Guarded by the Cowboy - Em Petrova Page 0,1
she turned her head. He glanced at her profile with a slightly upturned nose and wideset eyes. By his guess, the woman carried a good portion of Swedish blood in her veins, and knowing her brand of tech geek, she probably already knew every percent of her DNA and traced the roots.
“I’m searching the pharmaceutical company’s client database for security breaches.”
“Find anything?”
“A couple medium risks, but nothing extreme so far.”
He realized he’d buttoned his shirt crooked and paused at the side of her desk to set down the duffel and rework the buttons.
Her jaw dropped when she saw him unbutton his shirt. “What—” She held up a hand to ward him off even as she averted her eyes. “What are you doing?”
His lips tipped at one corner. Just as he thought—uppity and a prude. She probably closed her eyes when she got dressed in the morning.
“I’m buttoning my shirt.” Something about her reaction made him think of his little sister. He reached the bottom button and nudged the bag with the toe of his boot. “Take care of this, would ya, honey?”
Whipping her head around, she pierced him with her glare. “I’m not your honey. And you still stink.”
He raised an arm and gave his pit a sniff. All he detected was fresh cotton. “Good enough for where I’m going.”
“Which is?”
He offered a that’s-above-your-pay-grade smile.
She issued a noise of irritation before facing her monitor again.
“Got a meetin’ with Ross and the crew.”
She grunted.
Again, he nudged the bag her way. “If you don’t mind dropping this off at the house, I’d appreciate it. I’ve gotta run. Lock up when you go.”
Without waiting to see if he’d achieved his goal of getting a rise from her, he strode to the door and walked out to his truck. Through one of the open windows came a shrill scream carried on the Montana breeze.
Boone smiled to himself and climbed behind the wheel.
Using his skills of deduction and more than a little bit of the common sense the Wyntons were known for, he’d guess that Lauralee had discovered his dirty laundry.
He couldn’t wait to see how the woman would retaliate.
* * * * *
What was she supposed to do with Boone’s dirty, stinky laundry? She wasn’t his wife!
She’d worked at WEST Protection for all of a month and had now been relegated to maid duties? She didn’t go to school for all those years and intern with a top company to land this job and do her boss’s laundry.
Wasn’t it bad enough being the only female in the office without being shoved into an archaic mindset of gender roles? She felt a diatribe coming on, but Boone wasn’t even here to deliver it to.
She aimed a kick at the duffel, sending it several feet away from her across the floor. Part of her knew he’d left the bag to annoy her, and he’d done a fantastic job of it too.
The interruption had stolen precious minutes of her time, and she had work to finish before she could clock out for the day. Not that she wouldn’t pick up where she left off once she reached her apartment. Since moving to Montana, she had zero social life.
She glanced toward the big windows facing east. The dust from Boone’s tires still hovered in the air, another reminder why the man irritated her so much. She had allergies—to everything from pollen to cleaning products—and she shouldn’t have to endure his driveway dust while she worked.
She got up from her desk chair and walked to the window to slam it shut. Then she pulled down the blinds, but not before she drank in the sight of his brake lights as he reached the iron gates at the end of the very long driveway.
Turning to the desk, she spotted the duffel bag from the corner of her eye, walked over and gave it another kick for good measure.
The Wyntons weren’t the type of bosses who thought women were beneath them, and their reactions to her resumé had left her feeling good about working here. It all came down to Boone being an ass.
From what she knew of the man, he liked to show off, strutting around here in that stupid white hat. Sure, they all wore them, but he wore his tugged low over his eyes. At one point, she wondered if he did that to hide a wicked scar or other defect, but then she’d seen him without his hat and learned that wasn’t the case.
Most of the security