Read Badass: Deadly Target (Complete): Military Romantic Suspense for Free Online

his fingers in front of my face. “Do you hear me?” he asks, placing his hands on the table and leaning down until we’re nearly eye-to-eye. “Are you in there?”
    His brusque tone pisses me off, and I snap to attention. “Yeah, I’m in here,” I say, my nerves about to break. “And quit hulking over me, you oversized bully.” I push at his chest, and it’s like pushing against a stone wall. I yank my hand away. “I’m sitting. I’m staying. At least until this misunderstanding is cleared up.”
    Moving away, he shrugs out of his jacket and grabs another chair, turning it backwards until he’s straddling it with his tanned arms crossed on its back. “Who sent you here?”
    My mommy , I want to say, but I can’t. First, I’d probably burst into tears and second, I don’t know if I can trust him. Do not trust anyone, Mia. I can recall the sound of her voice precisely, the fear in her eyes as she said it.
    “Can’t you tell me?” he asks more softly. “Is it really that top-secret?”
    I lift a shoulder and stare down into my cup of water, avoiding his penetrating blue eyes. “All I know is that I was sent here. That’s all. I was given the key and told to retrieve the contents of this box. I don’t know why.”
    That much is the truth. And if I don’t get out of this room, I will never know why.
    “So you didn’t know the person who gave you the key?”
    I’ve always been a good girl. I’ve always wanted people to like me. Always wanted to make people happy and be praised for doing a good job. I’ve hardly ever gotten into trouble. Not with my mom or in school. And if I did, I’d always break down and tell the truth because I am, if nothing else, a terrible, horrible liar.
    I swallow, then take a sip of my water and swallow again. I don’t know what to say or what to do. Maybe I should just keep drinking water and eventually plead the fifth.
    Through my lashes, I watch his fingers tap on his muscular forearm and can tell with that rhythmic motion that he’s becoming annoyed at me. I look higher, and he’s simply watching me, a look of intense patience on his chiseled face. A strand of his dark hair has fallen over his forehead; dark stubble is a shadow on his cheeks. Full lips that should look too feminine on a man somehow don’t. As I look, they spread into a grin and that dimple takes up residence once again.
    “Like the view?”
    I resist the urge to sink down into my chair. “Not particularly. But since it looks like we’re going to be here awhile, it’s marginally better than the eggshell paint on the walls.”
    The grin grows bigger. “We could hurry things along if you’d answer my questions,” he reminds me, and his fingers start their tapping again.
    “We could hurry things along if you’d simply remove yourself from in front of me and let me go about my business.”
    He blows out a breath and runs a hand through his hair, swiping that stray lock back into place. “You know I can’t and won’t do that. Not without the contents of that box.”
    I cross my arms over my chest. “Well, then maybe they’ll let us order pizza in a couple of hours, maybe bring in a couple cots at bedtime.”
    His eyes narrow. “Don’t make me do this the hard way.”
    Holy crap. Did my eyes really just flick down to his crotch straddling that chair? To cover it, I snap, “Whatever. I don’t care. Hard or soft, you’re not taking my mother—” I clap a hand over my mouth.
    He smiles. “So this information belongs to your mother?”
    Crap. Crap. Crap. “No,” I lie. “I was going to say ‘you’re not taking my mother fucking stuff.’”
    Oh, good cover, Mia! If I wasn’t so scared, I’d pat myself on the back.
    “And why exactly did you smack yourself when you said it?”
    Think. Think. “Because I’m trying hard to break a cursing habit,” I lie again. That was the first time I’d ever said fuck in my life. “I don’t want to have to stuff another dollar into my cursing