Claimed by Cammie Eicher Read Free Book Online

questions, he drained his cup and refilled it. The coffee was strong; he welcomed the caffeine as a stimulant. It might be a long time until he slept again.
    Chiana sipped from her own mug, looking everywhere but at him, trying to ignore the elephant in the room. Creed wasn’t about to let her.
    “How did he find you?” Creed asked.
    “Who?”
    “Your friend.”
    “He’s not my friend, he’s my partner.”
    “Whatever.”
    Creed studied her, trying to decide if she was lying or out of the loop. If she was the senior partner, how did Mick find her? Either he was able to figure out from her cell phone’s GPS, or he’d followed a tracer. He shouldn’t have been able to find her. Tracking an employee was a job for someone insidethe agency’s special abilities unit with the highest clearance, and only after following well-defined procedures.
    Every instinct inside him screamed trouble.
    “Whose car was out there?” he asked.
    “Mine. Why?”
    “Either you called him when you got here or you’ve got a bug on your car.”
    She shook her head. “Not any more. I took my baby in to have a bad ball joint replaced, and the mechanic found a little box that definitely wasn’t standard. It’s been off for more than a week.”
    Creed scrubbed his face with his hand. If the car was untraceable, that meant she sent off the signal. And it meant that her partner, the man she should be able to trust most in the world, was keeping track of her every movement.
    “Stand up,” he said.
    “Why?”
    “I need you to strip.”
    Chiana shook her head.
    “Trust me, it’s not so I can see you naked,” Creed said, impatient. “I had that chance and turned it down, remember?”
    “No.”
    “You were getting ready to show all of us what God gave you, so don’t start with the modesty crap.”
    “Give me one good reason.”
    “Just start taking off your clothes.
    Creed started toward her, ready to undress her himself. She must have sensed it because, with a deep sigh, she stood up, arms hanging at her side.
    “Start at your feet.”
     
    Unlacing her boots, she kicked them off and shoved them toward Creed. He pulled a knife from the scabbard on his thigh and began poking the tip into the leather.
    “Hey, those cost an arm and a leg!” Chiana protested.
    “Keep stripping.”
    She concentrated on unsnapping the jeans and pulling them off without losing anything from her pockets. That was so much better than watching Creed turn her boots into Swiss cheese. He grabbed the pants as soon as she tossed them to him. After checking the contents of the pockets, he ran his knife along the seam of the jeans.
    “More.”
    Chiana shook her head. “No.”
    “Have it your way.”
    Before she had a chance to protest, he grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked it over her head. He ran his hand along the seams before tossing the garment onto the floor. Chiana instinctively crossed her arms over her chest as he slipped a finger under the back of her bra.
    “Your choice,” he reminded her as his finger moved toward the front of the bra, sliding against her flesh. He stopped at the front of the flimsy undergarment, his eyes moving up to meet hers.
    “If I have to take it off, I will,” he said.
    The steel in his voice stopped her from arguing. She reached behind her and unclasped the bra, letting it fall to floor as she grabbed her shirt. Creed took the tip of his long knife and slit the V where the cups met, gently working a long piece of thin metal from the pocket that held the underwire. A small lump decorated one end.
    “There’s a reason certain stores offer discounts to agents,” he said, dropping the tracer to the concrete floor and stomping hard on it. He picked up the mangled device, cut the exposed wires, threw it back on the floor and, as a finale, stomped again.
    He turned his back as Chiana grabbed her pants with shaking hands. He examined what he’d found in her pockets, opening the leather case and holding one of the