Page 4 of Mercenary Daddy’s Girl (Daddy’s Girl #9)

GHOST

G emma’s been quiet the whole ride here.

Uncomfortably so. Guess I can’t blame her.

Giving the ultimatum of come with me if you want to live won’t sit right with anyone.

But where her mouth has seldom parted, her eyes haven’t broken away from me since the second we pulled out of her driveway.

It shouldn’t be out of fear anymore, not with me exposing my face.

Everyone in this damn town knows I never take off my mask.

“What is this place?” she asks as I pull into an abandoned parking lot. The slight quiver in her voice reveals her growing nerves.

“I’d take you back to my apartment, but I don’t think it’s wise.” Honesty. If I want her to trust me, I have to give it in spades. “This is one of my safe houses.”

“Looks like an abandoned motel.” Gemma’s stunning blue eyes snap away from me and drink in the building washed in the early morning sun’s glow.

“That’s because it is.” I kill the engine and get out. I circle the front of my SUV and stop at Gemma’s door, pausing for a second .

While she looks on at the dilapidated building, I get to see her in a more natural state. Not wrought with terror, side-eyeing me like I’m going to kill her. Just herself. The woman kicked my legs out from under me. Forced my hand to make a choice that could have severe consequences.

But anyone brave enough to try and fuck this up better get ready to lay down their life for it.

I open her door. “Let me grab your things.”

She turns to me, and for the first time today, she smiles. It’s weak, broken, but there nonetheless.

Progress.

“What happens next?” she asks, following me around the back of my car.

I knew she was smart. This proves it. Asking the important questions, instead of my name or why I’d have a safehouse in a rundown motel.

“We stay here while I work. Until you’re safe.” I collect her things from the trunk, a bag too light to have enough clothes and supplies to last us hiding out, and head toward the building.

We walk halfway to my room’s door before she looks at me again. This time, a heavy sigh accompanies her gaze. “How bad is it?”

“Not very. At least, not yet.” Rico spotting someone strolling through the streets at night isn’t reason to believe Don Bernal’s on the hunt. But it’s important to temper our expectations.

She nods and turns away.

We stop outside the room I’ve built my safe house inside, and the only thing different about it than every other door is a black box attached to the handle. I grab a card out of my pocket and slide it through the box. It beeps, and the lock disengages .

“But don’t worry, little Gem.” I meant it when I said I liked it. So much, I’m gonna keep it for myself. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I open the door, and Gemma’s face lights up at the interior.

Polished hardwood floors, elegant marble countertops, and the latest and greatest in furniture from two years ago fill the space.

Every safe house I own is fit for a king.

The outside, unassuming to any eyes that may fall upon it, while the interiors match the lavish lifestyle I’ve become accustomed to.

Eyes wide, she wanders inside as if we stepped out of reality and into some dream.

“It’s like a dream come true.” Her fingers gently graze everything she passes. “The rooms looked so small from out there. How is this inside?”

“Tore down the walls between the rooms and made it a place I’d want to stay if push came to shove.” I could watch her like this for hours. Pray the kid-in-a-candy-store look never leaves her face again.

I don’t need to pray. No divine intervention is going to keep me from seeing this happiness for the rest of my life.

I head inside and let her continue her exploration. With my renovations, this safe house has all the amenities we’ll need for however long it takes. Two rooms, an office for me to work out, and a fully stocked fridge. What more could you ask for?

But as these things always seem to go, when she rejoins me in the kitchenette, her mood drops back to the somber fearfulness I met her with.

“Something the matter?” I lean against the counter, pressing my palms into it at my sides.

“No. This is … this place … is amazing. ”

“But?” Out with it. Fuck, I can’t stand to see Gemma like this when she was skipping gleefully a second ago.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing it.” Her eyes sink to her feet like I’m about to yell at her for doing something bad.

“Because you’re in danger.” Straightforward and to the point. Any other answers I could give might lean me closer to the realm of psychopathy.

And I don’t want to scare her just yet.

“Does that mean you jump in and save any damsel in distress?” Her voice strains in an attempt to bring even the slightest bit of levity to this situation.

“You’re not any damsel in distress.” There’s no better time like the present, that’s what they say anyway. Why bother holding myself back when the sooner I share my dirty little secret, the sooner we can get to the good bits?

Unless I’m misreading this. Gemma’s gawking could very well be out of mistrust. Thinking of me as the enemy when I’m here to help. But even as we stand in here, I can tell it’s not the case. She might be apprehensive, but she came with me willingly.

“Then what am I?” Her head slowly cranes up until our eyes meet. Her voice so strained and soft, it encompasses all her fears.

I should’ve killed ‘em for leaving her in this state.

“Mine.” Truth is the only answer I’ll give her.

She roused a beast deep inside me when I found her cowering behind those boxes. Woken from a long, dormant sleep with a single goal in mind.

Take her. Claim her. Give her the world, and let nothing get in the way .

Gemma’s eyes go wider than when she first set them on this safe house. She opens her mouth to speak, but it falls shut just as quick. The same motion plays on repeat while she tries to wrap her mind around the statement.

“Yours?” She finds the word, and with it, the flood gates open. “What does that even mean? Like some kind of mafia princess? You’re saving me from one to keep me for yourself? I can’t do this. My mom won’t survive on her own. How am I?—”

Fuck, she’s cute in her frazzled state. Snow white cheeks turning rosier by the second. Flustered and confused while her mind spins at a thousand miles an hour.

No, I’m not one to mince words. I could’ve lied, said I saw something special in her, and wanted to protect it. What good would it do? My end goal would be the same. Why not jump past the boring bits and get straight to the action?

“Nothing to do with the mafia.” Don Bernal’s organization is more akin to the mob than the mafia anyway. “This is personal.”

Gemma goes still when I answer her torrent of questions with a simple statement. Her lip puffs out, and she gulps fiercely. What I wouldn’t give to be able to read her mind right now. See the thoughts she wasn’t willing to share so freely.

“Personal?” She’s back to one-word answers. Still, I feel the corner of my lip twitch into a very small smile.

I step closer to her.

“You haven’t left my head since I saw you. Burrowed in deep and took your place as the sole owner of it,” I say. “I didn’t do this out of pity or some false-hearted obligation. I did it out of burning fucking need. Soon as I saw you, I had to have you.”

I raise a hand, testing the waters to see how far I can take this. Her eyes watch it close in, focused on the digits slipping over her shoulder and tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

Gemma sucks in a breath, and it gets locked in place. No exhale, like her lungs aren’t sure if they should keep going.

“I’m not just here to protect you.” I lean a little closer, moving my hand to the side of her cheek. “I want you as mine. Forever.”

“Oh, fuck,” she whispers as her eyes flicker over my mouth.

It’s all the permission I need. I lean in slowly, not wanting to scare her away after the bombshell I dropped. If she pulls away and wants to run, so be it. I won’t fight her.

She doesn’t.

Our mouths meet, a gentle brush to start, before the monster burbling inside me takes control. Slow morphs to intense in an instant. A tender graze replaced by devouring lips trying to taste every last inch of her mouth.

I have to force myself to break the kiss, and when I do, I’m met by the brightest smile I’ve ever seen. Almost like while I was on the hunt for her, she was playing her own game of catch the cat.

“Still think I did this out of some misguided sense of honor?” I ask, never moving far enough to lose the warmth of her breathing against my lips. “No, little Gem. I saved you for me.”