Page 35 of Daddies’ Dark Desires (Forbidden Fantasies #19)

OLIVER

I ’ve set up a single means of communication for this guy to get a hold of us. Of Harper specifically.

It didn’t take many words for the three of us to come to that conclusion while we watched her sleep. Working her to exhaustion was the only way to let her sink into it and properly rest. That woman’s mind gets wound up too tightly.

I sit across the room as she snuggles up to Grant’s side in bed. She looks so innocent there. It’s the softest she ever looks. All the attitude and brattiness has vanished. Instead, she just looks vulnerable.

Or maybe that’s because I know she’s the intended target of a traitor. And he’s going to try to get to her first. Lure her out. Put her in danger.

Fury strangles my breath when I think of whoever this man is hurting her.

It’s worse that I know he’s one of our men, but I can’t pinpoint who.

I want to put a bullet in the man’s head before he comes close to Harper.

Trent is prowling the grounds of the safe house, leaving the room abnormally quiet, even with the soft breathing across the room.

An oil heater hums to life between us, adding to the low thrum of the computers I have set up to allow contact and track said contact when it occurs.

Instead of staring at Harper through a screen, I enjoy tracking the way her chest rises and falls from feet away. Although, strangely, I’ve found that watching her when she’s sleeping next to me is all the more pleasurable.

Feeling her is more pleasurable. Calming. Sometimes, I actually sleep.

Such a novelty for me.

Sleep has never been my friend, and that served me well in Afghanistan.

The comm I set up blinks once—soft but bright enough to punch through the dark.

Incoming transmission. Harper’s line. I’m proven right. This traitor wants Harper.

“Grant.” I barely say his name, and he opens his eyes. No jerking upright, no twitching, just awareness.

I gesture to the comms.

“Harper,” his voice is low, soft, but she still wakes with a start. She’s not made for this kind of situation. Smart, yes. Determined, yes. Strong, yes. But no one has ever tried to kill her before.

And I’m glad for that, but now it’s happening, and I don’t want it to change her.

She hums and reaches down to cup Grant. He grunts and takes her hand.

“I didn’t wake you for that, baby girl. Up.”

Like she remembers why we’re here, she shoots upright with wild eyes.

The comm blinks again, and I tap it open without responding. Static and breathing fills the room. I’ve set the tracking software to find him, but it takes a little human intervention that has me typing furiously on my silent keyboard.

“Harper,” the voice drawls, smooth and poisonous. “I thought you were coming to rescue your friend. What a disappointment.”

Anger bleeds red into my vision.

“And that attempt by your men…you’d think amongst the three of them, they’d know a trap when they saw one, but I guess good pussy can distract even the best soldiers.”

“You will not talk to her like?—”

“Oliver. Cute that you’re pretending to matter here. But I didn’t ask for you, did I?” After a second’s pause where I grind my teeth, I remind myself why we set this up.

I will have his life in my hands by the end of this.

“Harper, wake up, sweetheart. You’re missing the show. Sunny’s been begging for you. You wouldn’t want to disappoint her, would you?”

Harper is beside me a second later, and she leans into the desk where I’ve set up the comms.

“I’m not a patient man. The clock’s already ticking. Every second you waste letting Oliver play hero is a second closer to her not needing rescuing at all.”

“I’m here. Let me talk to her.”

“Mmm, not quite yet. Since I’m confident your hacker lover won’t find me for longer than he’d like. And I feel the need to ensure you understand me. Sunny is alive, but how long that lasts depends wholly on my discretion. Hear me, sweetheart?”

“Yes. I hear you. But you need to prove to me that she is still alive. Hear me?”

His laughter is warm, genuine. “Ah, there’s the attitude I’ve heard so much about. Your father did love to talk about you. So fond of his little brat.”

Harper’s face turns cold. That analyst comes out in her. “Aw, how sweet. Daddy talk and pet names? Careful, you’re going to make me think you actually like me.”

Her voice is bratty and needling, and I grin at the way she wields it.

“Now let’s skip the small talk and get to the part where you try to impress me with your hostage-handling skills.”

Trent slips back into the cabin, eyes narrowing.

The little fuck is right. I’m being bounced around the goddamn world trying to track his location.

“Mmm, I can’t wait to find another use for that smart mouth.”

Trent and Grant growl in unison, but Harper barely bats an eyelash. “You won’t be the first to try, nor the first to fail. Put Sunny on before I write you off as some limp dick who’s all talk.”

There’s a tense pause before he chuckles. “Challenge accepted, sweetheart. But again, before we get to Sunny, and I let her try to use whatever code the two of you little girls have, I’m going to give you your orders.”

The words travel through the room, and we’re all prepared to eviscerate this traitor.

“Since your men were so inept at retrieving her, you will leave them behind when you deliver my thumb drive and all your evidence to me. And then, you can have Sunny. Don’t mess it up.”

“When and where.”

“Wait at the little Italian cafe on Willow Ave in the morning. I’ll send you details when it’s time.”

The morning. Way to be vague. To maintain control.

A small rustling comes over the line before short, panicked breathing takes its place. “Harper?

“Yeah, Sunny. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. You know me.” She sounds worse for wear but alive and healthy. No immediate pain in her voice. “I make do.”

She sucks in a staggering breath that niggles at my heart.

“It’s not him, it’s?—”

Click.