by Lisa Daniels
“Is that so?” Mason said softly, grinning when she ran a curious finger over his arm, curling under his shirt. Her grin turned wider, and her eyes glittered. “As you wish.” He promptly scooped her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He made a straight beeline inside, heading for the bedroom. He almost twisted his ankle at a tricky corner, but got there in the end, happily kicking the door shut behind him.
“Here we go again,” she said, still grinning impishly.
“Here we go again,” he agreed, deciding to let her dictate the rest of this little encounter.
After all, who was he to refuse her?
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The Dragon Mobster
Scandalous Shifters
Book 2
By: Mia Taylor
Prologue
What the hell are you looking at? she almost barked, her eyes darting through the bull pen as she walked, but as always, she managed to hold her tongue as she weaved through the precinct, pretending not to notice the leers of her coworkers. After all this time working on the male-dominated task force, she thought she would have been used to it by now, yet there she was, still wondering how she found herself annoyed by their stares.
She made her way through the maze of desks toward her unkempt corner cubicle, balancing a coffee in hand. There was a pencil clenched between her slightly imperfect teeth as she pretended not to notice the overt gawks of the hogs in the pen.
So aptly named the pen. They are all a bunch of pigs.
It was not uncommon for Angela to be stared at in some fashion throughout the day.
Unbeknownst to her, she was a shockingly attractive woman with a sweeping mane of inky black hair and long-lashed blue eyes, two attributes she managed to keep under wraps without trying.
Her figure was lean and toned but surprisingly voluptuous, despite her inherent desire to keep it hidden from view in ill-fitting clothes and a general “screw off” attitude. Her demeanor oozed hostility, the disappointment of her life permeating through her pores outward and onto anyone who dared offend her.
But that was not why she often found herself being ogled by her coworkers. They could not see that there was an inner beauty to Angela Garnet any more than she could.
Sure, they would occasionally try to bed her on a bet or just for the masochistic pleasure of being castrated through verbal assault, but those instances seemed to be further and further apart. Especially since Damon Sommer had left the precinct. He had been the leader of their endless bashing in the El Cajon district and Ang didn’t miss him in the least.
Now, instead of overt comments and full-on harassment, they had backed off to point and whisper like a bunch of drunk frat boys like she was some military experiment gone wrong.
That particular day was no different, although there seemed to be a charge in the air, something she couldn’t quite identify as if something was about to happen.
Her glasses slipped over the bridge of her nose but between the files and the burning liquid occupying her palms, she had little choice but to let them slide along the ski-jump ridge uncomfortably. She hoped the slight upturn at the end would stop them from falling entirely. Of course, asking for help wasn’t an option, not when she was the only woman in a man’s world.
Can’t show any weakness to these pricks, she thought, grinding her teeth.
All around her, the men eyed her, a flurry of garbled talk she couldn’t quite hear reaching her ears but no one bothered to step forward and offer their assistance any more than she had asked for it.
Thanks for all your help, assholes, she thought, glancing at the predominately male cast surrounding her, but she wasn’t surprised. It was every man for himself in that office.
Especially if that man was a woman.
She dropped what she had in her hands onto the already overflowing table, checking her fingers to see if prints remained on her tips after handling the boiling coffee. Content that they had not been singed off by the rancid breakroom coffee, Ang finally adjusted her glasses.
No worker’s comp today, Angela thought bitterly, settling into the creaking seat before the mountain of paperwork.
No sooner had she plopped into the worn swivel chair did Sergeant Keller yell out from his office at her back.
“Garnet, get in here.”
Are you serious? I just got comfortable. She groaned inwardly, pushing her lithe body back into a standing position. What now?
Angela suddenly became aware of the whispering in her midst, their voices rising an octave, and she eyed her coworkers suspiciously, straining her ears for a whisper of what was being said.
“Now, Garnet!” Keller barked. “I don’t have all damned day.”
Reluctantly, she turned to address the man waiting at her back. She still could not understand what the fuss was about, but a mounting sense of apprehension was filling her gut.
Am I getting fired? Is this about my paperwork? I am just getting to it now! It’s not my fault Mendez was too hungover to do his DD4s. I’m sick of covering for that lush’s ass all the time but God forbid I ask for a reassignment. I’ll just be the weak woman who can’t handle the workload.
Angela had fought too hard for her position to throw it away because her partner was useless. Anyway, there was no guarantee that the next one would be any better. She’d already had a bad enough run to rock the boat.
Better an alcoholic than a crooked cop, I guess.
She would be naïve to believe that everyone didn’t have skeletons lurking in their closets.
I mean, almost everyone. I’ve got my shit straight but everyone can’t be me, she lied to herself.
“What’s up?” she asked, shuffling toward the door, a hand flipping through her thick, black waves quickly. It was a habit of nervousness, one of which she was painfully aware but had little control over.
“Close the door,” Keller instructed and Angela obliged.
“If this is about Mendez, he was asking for it,” she volunteered and her superior’s eyes flashed, his head cocking inquisitively.
“What did you do to Mendez?” he asked suspiciously.
That’s another thing I need to work on—supplying too much information when it’s not required.
“Never mind,” she said quickly, offering him a bright smile. “What can I do for you, boss?”
He grunted slightly, flopping unceremoniously into his chair and shaking his head.
“I’m not sure you can do anything,” he replied and Angela stared at him uncomprehendingly.
Then why am I here? she almost snapped but wisely managed to hold her question back.
“Okay…” she offered instead. “What can I do for you then?”
She waited for him to continue but he seemed reluctant to say anything else, studying her face with porcine eyes as if he was expecting her to say something.
“Can you give me a hint?” she suggested, not certain she was in the mood for a game of twenty questions.
Not when there’s fifty pounds of paperwork on my desk right now thanks to Mendez.
“What do you know about the Menottis?” he asked. The query was unexpected and it took her a couple of seconds to register what he was asking.
“The cookies?” she asked, her mind blank otherwise.
Keller groaned so loudly that she could feel it in her bones.
I guess that wasn’t the answer he was looking for, she thought, wracking her brain for something that would make him less annoyed.
“Not cannoli, Garnet, Menottis.”
“How about another hint?” she asked brightly, but he shook his balding head side to side with such vehemence, she wondered if he hoped she’d disappear with the action.
“I tried to tell them this is the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” he moaned. Angela had a feeling he wasn’t talking to her and she simply sat, awaiting direction.
Under the fluorescent ligh
ts, she could feel the heat of the lamps causing beads of sweat to form on her head, even though the central air was working beautifully in the office.
It isn’t the lights making you sweat; it’s nervousness, she thought, gritting her teeth and again running her hand through her thick, ebony strands.
She hated that her emotions could be so easily displayed.
When she had taken her detective’s exam, she was sure that was going to be what caused her to fail.
But of course, she hadn’t failed.
No one was going to turn away a cop with shooting scores like hers and not in a place like El Cajon where there was already a shortage of police.
Without military training, Angela had the ability to shoot with sniper precision as if she were some Marvel comic superhero.
Coupled with her almost flawless collar record and quiet intelligence, she had made detective within six months of graduating from the academy.
Of course, no one knew about her hidden talents either, but somehow, Ang sensed that it would have been irrelevant.
Anyone should have been grateful to have someone like her on their team, but the robbery unit in El Cajon was less than thrilled to have a young, attractive woman paired on their watch.
Angela knew it was testosterone-infused anger but she also didn’t care.
She was damn good at her job and she didn’t care who had a beef with it.
If only she could keep her facial expressions from telling the world precisely how she felt.
For a second, her blue eyes narrowed and she wondered if this was some kind of hazing trick to make her uncomfortable.
It was getting old and she was irritated that even after two years, she was still enduring the overload of macho bull flooding the department.
The rest of the world has progressed, but inside police departments nationwide, it will always be the fifties.
She was painfully aware that a full minute had passed without Keller speaking and Ang idly wondered if she had been dismissed without realizing.
“Well,” she said shortly, rising. “Good talk. If that’s all, I have—”
“Sit down, Garnet.”
Instantly, Angela took her seat again, sighing deeply. She should have known she wouldn’t be let off the hook that easily.
He was her boss, after all. When Keller said “jump”, she did the kangaroo song.
Keller continued to stare at her silently and Angela felt her already frayed patience running out.
Before she could speak again, there was a knock on the door and she exhaled with relief.
Saved by the bell, she thought happily, turning her attention toward the doorway as Keller barked an order to enter.
A ridiculously tall man entered, his head almost brushing against the top of the doorway as he stared down at them.
“Took you long enough,” Keller snapped. “Nice of you to join us.”
“This place is a damned zoo. I had forgotten how disorganized your group is.”
Keller’s scowl deepened and Angela was afraid his face might cave in. It wasn’t a good look for him.
“You tell her,” Keller growled, shifting his eyes away from Angela. “I can’t even say the words aloud without cringing.”
The stranger blinked at the female detective, studying her face with silent scrutiny until she was forced to blush and look away. She wasn’t accustomed to being stared down and scrutinized like that, not when there wasn’t a sexual undertone to his gaze. No, this man seemed to be memorizing her face and judging her.
“This is Garnet?” the stranger asked, finally wrenching his eyes away to eye Keller warily.
“You asked for her, didn’t you?” Keller retorted. “You didn’t do your due diligence and bother looking at a picture?”
Slowly, the giant nodded, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. To Angela’s surprise, he extended a long hand.
“Terry Duggan,” he offered. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Angela. May I call you Angela?”
That depends on who the hell you are. If you’re Internal Affairs, I’m gonna go with no. If you’re applying to be my sugar daddy, you can call me anything you want.
Angela nodded, saving her commentary. She wasn’t sure that the massive beast in front of her had much of a sense of humor. Cautiously, she shook his hand, glancing at Keller through her peripheral vision.
If possible, her boss looked even more miserable.
And I thought I had a problem hiding my feelings. Look at him. He looks suicidal right now.
A long, uncomfortable silence ensued as she waited for one of them to speak, but neither seemed eager to open their mouths.
“What is going on?” Angela blurted out, sick of the suspense. Wasting time was more Mendez’s specialty than hers.
A strange knot was forming in the pit of her stomach and her cerulean eyes darted from Duggan to Keller, waiting for one of them to give her an explanation.
“I’m with the FBI,” the newcomer announced and Angela nodded, even though she didn’t fully understand what that had to do with her.
Congratulations?
His next words helped to clarify her confusion.
“I need your help with a case.”
“Oh,” Angela laughed, relief flooding through her. “Well, why didn’t you just say so? Was it the robbery in La Mesa? I admit, there was something that screamed professional thief. What did they do? Cross state lines with the goods?”
Terry smiled wanly.
“No, Angela,” he replied quietly. “I’m with the organized crime division.
She blinked at him, trying to reconcile which one of her open cases might have cartel associations. Nothing immediately came to mind, but that didn’t mean anything. Who knew what the cartel was dipping their hands into these days? Nothing was off limits anymore.
Suddenly, she remembered the sergeant’s early question.
“What do you know about the Menottis?”
It hit her like a ton of bricks, even though it made even less sense than the FBI presence.
Of course! The Menotti Family. That kind of organized crime, not the cartels.
Still, it made no sense why the FBI would be asking her about them. Even if there were Italian mob ties in El Cajon, Angela worked robbery, not narcotics or special victims. What did she know about trafficking or drug runs?
“Okay…” she murmured, trying to piece together what was happening.
“We were wondering if you might be interested in helping us with bringing down a very dangerous crime family here.”
A thousand questions threatened to spring from her lips but they all died there.
Hear him out. He obviously came all the way over here from whatever field office for a reason.
“Tell me what you need and I’m here to help,” she replied brightly instead. Keller seemed even angrier by her words but Angela was beginning to see that he was just happier being miserable.
“No, Angela, I need you to come on board with us,” Duggan explained patiently. “As a temporary agent for the Bureau.”
Angela gaped at him, her eyes darting back toward Keller’s disgruntled expression.
“You want me to work with the FBI?” she gasped, again looking at her boss, but Keller looked anywhere but at her.
Agent Duggan smiled thinly.
“Actually, Angela, we have a very special assignment for you.”
She waited, her heart beginning to thud in her chest.
“We’d like you to go in undercover.”
Angela’s mouth parted and she let out a giggle of disbelief.
“Undercover? With the mob? Why don’t you just put a bullet in me right now?” she chuckled, the blood draining from her face. She whirled and turned to Keller to see if he was smiling, but he was not.
Suddenly she realized it wasn’t a joke.
Indignation flooded her body.
“Really? Do the men resent me so much for making detective that this is the way you g
et rid of me?”
As if I’d go down so easily, she thought furiously.
Keller snorted.
“Stop being such a goddamn drama queen, Garnet. This was not my idea, believe me. I tried to dissuade this idiot, but he went above my head.”
Angela turned back to the agent, her face puckered into an expression of anger.
“Are you running out of brunettes at the FBI? Now you just randomly pluck us out of police stations for dispensable bodies?”
Terry grinned, a glimmer of amusement touching his dark eyes.
“Is this funny to you?” she barked at him. “Because I’m not amused.”
“Of course I don’t find this funny,” Duggan replied, quickly wiping the smile off his face. “But I knew you would be perfect. You just showed me you have what it takes.”
Angela gaped at him.
“I have nothing of what it takes to be an undercover agent. No training and no talent for lying. You will send me in there and I’ll get made—right off the bat.”
“If you agree to this, you will be properly trained beforehand.”
“Yeah? Where are you going to send me for actor training? Juilliard?” Angela demanded sarcastically.
“You’re not as far gone as you think. Everyone has the propensity to be a good undercover agent. You only need to tap into those skills. Do you think you can do that?”
Angela scoffed.
“You make it sound like I have a choice,” she spat.
“Of course you have a choice,” Keller growled. “Jesus Christ, would you just hear the man out before you go off on another tirade?”
Angela inhaled, trying to keep her temper in check.
“I thought you were opposed to this!” she snapped at her boss, but her attention was still fixated on Terry Duggan.
“There are reasons we have come to you specifically, Angela,” Special Agent Duggan explained and Angela felt the hairs on her arms rise.
“Such as?”
“You speak fluent Italian, you have the right look,” Duggan said quietly.
“There are hundreds of people better suited to this,” she insisted, crossing her arms over her full bust. “I can probably supply you with a list if you ask me nicely.”
