Page 18 of Perfect Vengeance

The back of her head whacked against the wall as she stumbled. A jolt of pain exploded in her skull. For a second, she saw stars, but no way would she go down, not in front of the most overbearing, pig-headed⁠—

Regaining her balance, she planted her hands on her hips and faced him head-on, though she had to crane her neck to accomplish that.

The corners of his mouth lifted again. “When I said ‘knock yourself out’ I didn’t mean literally.”

She rubbed the back of her head and prayed he’d just arrest her and get it over with before humiliating her further. The memory of her body’s involuntary reaction to his hand on her breast while they’d been stuck in the closet washed over her like a heat wave, and her face flushed. “Bastard.”

“You have no idea.” He crossed his arms, hiking up his sleeve to reveal more of his cast. Then he smiled—broader, this time—and darned if it didn’t transform his face, softening all those hard planes and angles, making him appear younger than she’d originally thought. Maybe in his mid to late-thirties. Under any other circumstances, she’d have to admit the man was not only handsome, he was downright gorgeous.

Don’t judge this book by its cover. Gates was no cover model. He was a gun-toting, badge-carrying, handcuff-wielding FBI agent who was about to throw her smartass mouth in jail. Before the night was over, she’d be cuffed to a chair and put under interrogation lights until she gave up her friends. He probably already knew who her friends were. Like Annabelle said… The FBI knows everything.

“Let’s get one thing straight here, G-man.” She pointed a trembling finger. “I won’t tell you anything.”

The smile on his face disappeared. He rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefingers, as if he had a headache.

Serves you right. Big, pompous jerk.

When he lowered his hand, narrow strips of white medical tape she hadn’t noticed earlier were visible at the fringe of his hairline. An unexpected twinge of guilt jabbed her gut. Who could blame the guy for arresting her? After all, she had run him down. Kinsey might have been behind the wheel, but Gina took full responsibility for her friend’s actions.

“We’ll start out easy.” He hooked his thumbs on his belt. The movement spread his jacket wide, revealing the holstered gun on his hip. “What’s your name?”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “You don’t already know? I thought the FBI knew everything.”

“Knock it off.” There was a discernible growl in his tone. “You’re in enough hot water to boil your butt as it is.”

“Okay, okay.” She held up her hands. “My name’s Gina. Gina Perot.” Gulp. Yet another lie. Technically, anyway. “Sorry about the smart-mouth remarks. I can’t help it, it’s in my blood.”

At the mention of blood, she noticed the red droplets dripping to the floor from Gates’s hand where she’d bitten him. What was one more assault charge tacked onto the list?

“You might want to wipe your mouth,” Gates said.

“Why?” She narrowed her eyes.

He held up his chomped, bloody fingers and scowled.

“Oh. Yeah.” She swiped her hand across her lips, then glanced at her fingers and giggled. Not because she’d made him bleed again. She actually did feel kind of badly about that.

“Keep it up and you’ll make tossing you in jail that much easier on me.”

Given the trouble she was in, she really needed to stop laughing. “I was just thinking how red your blood is.”

“What did you expect, alien green?”

“Guess I thought a federal agent would bleed all patriotic-like.” She couldn’t keep from giggling again, and realized it was more because she was on the verge of hysteria rather than actual amusement. “You know, red, white, and blue.”

Aside from arching a dark brow, Gates ignored her barb. “Who are you working for?”

“No one.”

“Who are you working with?”

“N-no one.”

“You just pegged a perfect ten on my bullshit meter.” As if his tone hadn’t been hard before, now it was icy. “If I haven’t mentioned it, lying to a federal agent is a felony. Up to five years in jail for that charge alone.”

“It’s the truth.” She swallowed so hard she heard herself gulp. She might be an ace cat burglar, but lying was something she’d never acquired a talent for. “I work alone.”

He snorted. “I don’t need to be a human polygraph to know you’re handing me a line of crap. Someone else was driving the car that ran me down, probably the same person driving like a crazed lunatic through midtown two hours ago.”