This wasn’t going to work. He could not work with her in the same station for the rest of his life. Even knowing they’d only be sharing an office for a few weeks was killing him. Years ago he’d accepted the fact that she’d move on and marry someone else one day, but did he really want to be around to see it? No. He didn’t want to see her with another man, didn’t want to see her stomach round with another man’s child. It would be too much even for a cold bastard like him to handle.
He cleared his throat. “I think maybe we should find you a desk in the pit,” he said, knowing even that wouldn’t be enough to make him stay. It might be enough to keep him sane until he got a transfer and was able to sell his house.
She didn’t even look up when she answered. “No.”
“What do you mean by ‘no’?”
She shook her head slightly, never taking her eyes away from the computer screen. “This is my office.”
“No, this is my office.”
At that she finally looked up. “No, this is our office. It will remain our office even after I officially start my new job.”
“Says who?” Tristan asked, feeling his temper flaring. This could not be happening.
“My father. Half of this office was meant for my position. I thought you knew that,” she said, looking back at her screen.
For a moment he couldn’t talk, couldn’t move. Then finally after what seemed like an eternity he was able to manage a coherent sentence, “Oh, fuck no.”
*-*-*-*
“Well, this is fun,” Shayne said wryly from his position on the couch. He laid his head back, sighing and then looked back up again to glance at Marty and Tristan, who were still glaring at each other over their desks.
“Ye’d think after two weeks that this would get old,” he shook his head, “but it hasn’t.” Tristan ignored him as he usually did during their daily standoffs.
After another scowl in his direction, Marty returned her attention back to her work. He took advantage of the moment by looking her over. His lips twitched into an appreciative grin as he took in her conservative, but sexy black blouse that showed a hint of cleavage and hugged her breasts the way that his hands itched to. He groaned inwardly when he thought about the short black skirt and heels that she wore today. Was she trying to kill him?
“Tell me something,” he said, clearing his throat, “how exactly are you supposed to catch me today if you’re wearing heels?”
Her glare shot right back at him as she opened her bottom desk drawer and pulled out a pair of tennis shoes. Tristan couldn’t help but chuckle. “Do you really think that you’ll be able to change your shoes fast enough to catch me today?”
For the past two weeks he’d greatly enjoyed messing with her. It was so much fun to watch her get pissed. Her cute eyebrows would draw up together, her eyes would narrow on him while her lips pursed up and she made a little sound of frustration. It might be sick to purposely piss her off for his own enjoyment but….what the hell.
He really couldn’t remember having more fun at work. There was last year when he ran off the previous occupant of that desk, but that was completely different. He hadn’t enjoyed fucking with him, well, yeah he had, but his reasons had been simple then. He’d just wanted the little whiner out of his office. With Marty though, he was really enjoying the challenge.
“Are you going to send me to a strip club to pick up your lunch again?” she bit back.
He chuckled deeply at the memory. Since she was supposed to be his assistant, thanks to Hank, Tristan decided to see how far he could push her. He heard the Fluffy Bunny had good ribs, not that he’d ever go to one of those places much to Shayne’s dismay, but he thought it would be funny to send Marty there to pick up his lunch.
She came back an hour later glaring at him through slits. Without a word, she dropped a huge paper bag in front of him and stormed off. The ribs were dry as hell and tasted like leather, but he’d sat there smiling while he ate them.
“Or are you going to trick me into getting out of the car again and then ditch me on the side of the road, leaving me to hike back to the office?”
“I came back for you!” he said, laughing harder.
*-*-*-*
Marty watched him laugh, forcing herself not to smile. She really loved it when he smiled or laughed. It reminded her of the time they used to spend together when they were closer than any two people could be without having sex. If his little pranks made him happy, then she’d let him have them. They really didn’t bother her that much since it made him smile and of course she always got back at him.
Like with the ribs.
The girls in the kitchen did her a favor by giving her three-day-old ribs and fries that she may have poured salt on, and soured coleslaw, but he ate it all up just to rub it in her face. He paid for it later, she mused with an inner smile, remembering the two bottles of antacid that he’d drank.
“You snuck through the woods and scared the hell out of me! I thought you were a bear, you jerk!” She still couldn’t believe that he’d been able to sneak up on her like that. He had his arms around her waist and growled in her ear before she knew what was happening. She may have screamed…a little.
*-*-*-*
“Ah, good times,” he mused with a chuckle. He really loved working with her, which he really shouldn’t. She couldn’t stay, but until she left he didn’t see why he couldn’t have a little fun. There was no harm in that.
Someone knocked at the door, making Tristan sigh. It was time to get back to work. Of course that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t consider the next trick he’d play on her. There was always the interrogation room. He chuckled at the memory of her pacing the room while glaring daggers at the one-way mirror where she knew that he was watching her.
Granted, she hadn’t known that he had half the force in there with him drinking soda, eating chips and pizza while they watched her rant and rave about what an asshole he was and what she was going to do to him when she got out. It really was better than watching a game, the guys agreed. Hell, even Hank pulled up a seat and a slice as he watched the show.
“Come in,” he said.
Stacey, a uniformed officer in her early thirties, opened the door and walked in, holding a large pile of dull yellow letter sized envelopes. Tristan walked over and took them from her. He’d been waiting all morning for them. As she pulled back her hand, she ran her fingers suggestively over his.
“Thank you,” he said absently, hoping it would be enough to send her on her way. He hated dealing with her. She always came on too strong and wouldn’t take the hint that he wasn’t interested. She knew that she was beautiful and any guy here would be happy to have her. The problem was that more than half the guys already had and he wasn’t interested in joining their ranks.
If that wasn’t enough to keep him from asking her out, the fact that he felt like he was cheating on Marty anytime he so much as looked in the direction of another woman was. He couldn’t explain it, but he’d never been attracted to another woman. A few times he’d forced himself to try, but they’d all ended with failure and left him feeling like a cheating asshole for simply taking a woman out to dinner.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Detective?” she practically purred.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Marty watching this little scene intently. Interesting. Maybe he should play on it to piss her off. She looked really cute when she was jealous and jealous she was. He didn’t have any doubts on that account. She wanted him, but not as much as he wanted her. That was simply impossible.
He would never purposely hurt her. Jealousy was a bitch that messed with your mind and tore at your heart. He knew that all too well since she made him crazy with jealousy about a hundred times a day. That was another reason she had to go.
“No, I’m fine. Thank you, Officer.” He purposely didn’t say her name, knowing that any familiarity would only encourage her.
Her smile slipped, but she still managed to send him
an inviting look before she left the office. Tristan tossed the pile of envelopes on his desk and sat down.
Marty cleared her throat delicately. “She was pretty,” she said, then felt really stupid. What was wrong with her? She only said and did stupid things around him. She cringed at how that just sounded.
He looked up with a knowing expression and grinned. “Jealous?”
Yes! “No,” she scoffed.
The bastard just chuckled as he opened the envelopes and pulled out thick stacks of paper.
“What are those?” she asked, well, more like demanded. She was a bossy little thing he’d come to realize over the last couple of weeks.
Tristan sighed. This was really going to set her off on one of her little rants. “The files of the missing girls from Massachusetts, Vermont and a few towns south of here.”
“What? I thought we were going to look at those together?” She was already pushing away from her desk before the last word was out of her mouth.
Again, he sighed. “Marty, I don’t have to do anything. This is just a hunch I’m playing out, nothing official. Therefore, I do not have to include my little stalker in it,” he answered her evenly as he spread out the files, preparing to create a database from them. He could have seen the files online, but he always preferred to see the pictures and field notes on paper even if they were just copies.
“I’m helping,” she stated, not asked.
“No.”
“You still can’t type that well with your left hand. You need me,” she pointed out, sounding so damn smug that it took everything that he had to bite back a smile. She was definitely a bossy and manipulative little thing.
“I can type fine. Besides, I’ll be doing most of the work at home.”
*-*-*-*
As she watched him organize the files something in her snapped. She was sick of his highhanded ways and keeping her from doing her job. It was time that she put her foot down.
“I’m helping,” she said firmly. “I was not hired simply to drive you around, pick up your food, and put up with your bullshit, Tristan. This is part of my job and I’m going to do it. Now you can just suck it up, because you do not have a choice in the matter.”
His hand stilled on the file he was moving as he looked up and met her glare. Perhaps she’d gone a tad too far. Yeah, definitely too far this time. He dropped the file on the desk and sat back in his chair, never taking his eyes off her.
“I don’t have a choice?” he asked, cocking an arrogant brow in her direction.
She straightened her spine and shoulders. “No.”
For a long moment he didn’t say anything, making her even more nervous. Just when she was about to make a hasty retreat he spoke.
“Fine.”
“I’m glad we have an understanding.” She couldn’t resist rubbing it in as she walked around the desk to look at the folders, trying to hide how surprised she was that he gave in so easily.
“Oh, we have an understanding, all right,” he said as his hand clamped around her wrist when she tried to pick up a folder.
She swallowed. “I’m helping,” she reminded him quietly.
“Yes, you are. But I need the files over here,” he patiently explained, that calm tone alone sent shivers down her spine and warning signals off in her head.
“Okay, let me get my chair,” she said, trying to pull her hand away.
“No need. There isn’t enough room over here for two chairs,” he explained. Marty looked pointedly at the large space behind his desk.
He ignored her and, with a slight tug, had her stumbling onto his lap. Her response was instantaneous if not a bit embarrassing. She yelped and jumped only to have his arm snake around her waist and bring her back down on his lap.
Her hands shot out to grip the desk as he shifted the chair forward, trapping her between the desk and his large body.
“Ah, that’s better. Now let’s see what we’ve got here, shall we?” he asked in a casual tone.
“I-I can do this from my desk,” she mumbled.
He sighed. “There isn’t enough room at your desk for both of us, Marty. Would you please focus? I’d like to get some work done if you don’t mind,” he said casually, but she could hear the humor in his tone and that pissed her off.
“Fine. Let’s get to work,” she said, purposely shifting in his lap. His reaction was rather pleasing. He sucked in a breath and tensed beneath her. A moment later she rethought the move when she felt him harden beneath her bottom. She swallowed as he continued to grow. Were all men this big? she had to wonder.
She could practically feel his smug smile when he realized that she could feel him. The bastard. Deciding that she wasn’t going to be intimidated, she opened her mouth to egg him on, which of course she knew was stupid, but it really couldn’t be helped.
“Tristan, do you mind?”
“Mind what?”
“Do you mind shifting? You have a small tube of chapstick or something in your pocket that’s poking me.” Maybe she shouldn’t have emphasized small. Guys were kind of sensitive about that sort of thing, right?
Chapter 10
“Oh, lord!” Shayne said between large bouts of laughter. “I knew there was a reason why I liked the lass!”
Tristan’s jaw clenched as he watched his friend laugh so hard that he fell right off the couch. “Small tube of chapstick!” Shayne repeated, taking obvious delight in his humiliation.
He turned his glare to Marty’s back. She was tense on his lap as she shifted through the files. If she wanted to play that game, it was more than fine with him.
He gripped her waist, picked her up, and placed her more firmly on his lap. Her gasp was reward enough, almost. He leaned forward so that his stomach was pressed gently against her back and his mouth was next to her ear.
“Is that better?” he whispered.
God, yes! “That’s fine,” she said with a shrug as if having his erection nestled firmly against her bottom didn’t bother her. Damn, she should win an Emmy for this little performance.
“Fine, huh? My small tube of chapstick isn’t bothering you anymore?” he asked in a hoarse voice.
“No, I can’t even feel it anymore.”
Why that little……..oh, she was good. There was no doubt in his mind that she could feel how excited he was. Fine.
Game on.
He tightened his grip around her waist as he subtly rocked his hips under her bottom as he adjusted her again. She gasped and was that a moan?
“I’m glad that it’s not bothering you. Let’s get to work,” he said, resting his chin on her shoulder so that he could see the files as they went through them.
“O-okay,” was Marty’s response.
She was in way over her head here.
*-*-*-*
Tristan noticed that Shayne had stopped laughing.
“Oh, that….that’s just not right. I don’t want to see this,” Shayne said with a mock shudder. With that he popped out of the room. Good riddance, Tristan thought as he fought against the urge to shift or rock against her, again.
For the next twenty minutes they worked in silence, skimming files and stacking them in order. Tristan seemed relaxed as they worked while Marty was inwardly panicking. Over twenty minutes and the damn thing beneath her bottom hadn’t ceased its poking! All of her movements were awkward as she tried not to shift in any way no matter how tempting it was.
“Can I ask you a question?” Tristan asked, caressing her neck with his warm breath.
That depends. “Sure,” she said in a bored tone.
“Why are you dressed up today?” he asked, hoping the answer was because she wanted to dress up for him. He liked the sexy way she’d pinned her long hair back into a lazy bun that left several long strands dangling over her neck, the sexy little business dress, and let’s not forget the long legs and high heels. He could definitely picture those heels digging into his ass while he slid in and out of her.
“I’m not dressed any differen
tly than normal,” she lied.
The hand on her stomach gently caressed her as he ran two fingers from his other hand over the almost nonexistent sleeve on her arm. “Yes, you are.”
With a slight shrug she decided to answer him and end the games, hoping he’d stop distracting her with his touches and caresses. She was seriously wondering why there was a need for Viagra if men were able to keep it up for over a half hour.
“I have a date after work and I didn’t think that I would have time to run home and change.”
She felt him go completely still against her. The hand on her stomach tightened almost possessively. “Oh? And who do you have a date with?” his voice was deceptively calm while on the inside he was already contemplating killing the son of a bitch.
“No one you know.”
“Try me. I know a lot of people. It’s my job after all.”
She sighed, “It’s a guy I met with my friends at a bar the other night.”
“Does this guy have a name?”
“Roger.”
“Roger what?” he demanded.
Another annoyed sigh, “Roger Arnold.”
He chuckled darkly behind her. “You got all dressed up to go out with Roger Arnold?”
No, it was for Tristan, but she’d used the date as an excuse to dress up for work today. “Yes.”
“You must like him a great deal to dress up like this,” he said, his tone laced with acid. “Do you like him a lot then, Marty?”
She adjusted uncomfortably and moved to get off his lap, but he held her prisoner where she was. “I think we should just focus on work. This is too personal.”
“How is it too personal for two old friends to chat? Or even for two co-workers who share an office to discuss their plans for the evening?” His tone was hard and dangerous, sending shivers down her spine. This wasn’t going to end well for her. For some strange reason she felt as though she’d finally pushed him too far.
When she didn’t answer he continued. “So you don’t feel like talking?”
She shook her head.
“Then can I ask a question?”
Black Heart Page 10