Codename: Kryptonite

Chapter Ten

Her head jerked up as if pulled by an invisible string. Sparks flashed in her green eyes as they met his. "What?"

One blond eyebrow rose in a perfect arc. His jaw tightened to the breaking point. "I know you don't need a definition of the words, and I know I didn't stutter. Get the fuck out of my house." Somehow, he managed to sound menacing, commanding, and dangerous - all without even raising his voice.

She could do menacing too. "And if I refuse?"

"Gun, or not, I'll have you thrown out." His lips stretched into a smile that didn't quite reach his baby blues. "After all, you're a crazy lunatic that claims to come from the future." The sarcasm wasn't lost on her.

Even through a clenched jaw, her voice sounded almost friendly, in a way too overdone Southern syrupy kind of way. "Let's be clear then - Are you refusing protection, Sir?"

He froze for the briefest of seconds while his mind spun in a faster than light speed whirl. If she was willing to admit it to herself, she'd be fascinated watching that brilliant mind working behind beautiful blue eyes and a face that could make an angel cry. The thoughts circling round and round in Jon's mind weren't purely self-motivated. What if this supposed assassin made an attempt on his life and got someone else instead? What if that attempt led to Jon being barred from the political socializing he'd been doing lately?

But, she would've let Richie die.

"Yeah, I am."

"Ok," she nodded, and for the length of a heartbeat, Jon had thought she was giving up way too easy. "But, you should realize that with my credentials I can and will keep you from attending any functions that might endanger any other political powerhouse. Mr. Gore, for instance."

"Are you threatening me?" The 'Jovi Stink Eye' should've sent her running in real fear of her life as if in flight from a bad horror film killer, but being the gun-toting, specially trained agent that she was, she stood her ground.

Gabriella smiled slightly at the emphasis on the word 'me'. As if she could threaten anyone else on the planet. Except HIM. Oh, the affront. "I'm glad you were paying attention." And then as if in afterthought, she added, "Sir."

He had to admit she had some big ass balls! "Threats won't get you any where with me."

"Let's call it what it is, shall we? Blackmail. Sir."

She didn't seem the least bit contrite to him, and it was beginning to really piss him off. "Let me make sure I've got this right," he began, once again glaring at her. "For the next - What? - twenty years you're gonna be like a fucking thorn in my side? I mean - fuck. How the hell do I get rid of you?"

"You don't." She was patience personified. "But, I can assure you, Sir. It won't take twenty years. I have no intention of putting up with your arrogant bullshit that damn long." He sucked in a huge breath at that, but before he could say whatever he'd been going to say, she went on. "I'll find the assassin long before then."

"Really?" he didn't sound too convinced. "The question of your competency remains to be answered."

She froze. The only movement being the heavy rise and fall of her lovely breasts as she huffed and puffed in anger. Her eyes were narrowed, lips pursed in a tight little bow, jaw clenched. Green sparks flashed in her eyes. For the briefest of seconds, he wondered if she was going to shoot him.

Good God, she was beautiful.

The room itself seemed to hold it's breath waiting for one of them to move. Tension hung thick and heavy in the room, making the hair on his arms stand up as if in the stillness right before the first crack of lightening in a summer storm.

Then all hell broke loose.

Forcefully, she pushed him back against the counter. "You ungrateful fuck! Dish out all the arrogant bullshit you want, but don't you dare imply that I can't do my job! I worked too fucking hard to get where I am. To get to protect a sitting president is a great honor. I was just the unlucky bitch that got YOU. I'm beginning to think I got the raw end of this deal." She punctuated every one of her sentences with a finger poke to the chest as she glared up into his startled face.

He opened his mouth. Perhaps he'd been about to apologize, but she didn't give him the chance. "If you ever - and I do mean EVER - question my competency again, I'll save the assassin a bullet. I'll shoot ya myself."

Cockily, he asked, "And would ya be able to hit me?"

She began to pull her dress up again, reaching for her gun. He put his hands up in front of him in surrender. "I was only joking. Fuck. You're gonna have to grow a sense of humor, Kryptonite."