CHAPTER ONE
Eleven months ago…
In all his years of tracking criminals, Connor Davis had never missed the engine in his Hellcat more than he did at that moment. He’d never needed a car to go two hundred miles an hour or more before either.
Not until he’d met Bliss Carpenter. Damn it. Why hadn’t he insisted on taking his own ride? This hunk of junk was going to get them killed.
But no. He’d been racing against the clock to try and catch up with Bliss. He’d have done it anyway, but as it was Winnie’s younger sister, the boss’s Little girl, it was twice as important that he find her.
Everything had gone down so fast that Connor had settled for taking his friend Gage Buchanan’s truck, instead of taking the time to get his own. Having grown up together since they were toddlers, Gage was more than a friend; he was family.
If he got shot because this car couldn’t even outrun two angry Russians in a Bentley sedan, he would never let Gage live it down. Not that Gage would do anything more than laugh hisass off if he knew. Connor would have to settle for haunting him from the grave.
One glance in the rearview mirror and he couldn’t hold back a growl. He floored the gas, but it earned him nothing. Hell, his grandmother could push this damn truck faster with her bare hands. He was never going to lose the men on their tail in this thing.
Not that there should be angry Russians chasing after them in the first place. He took his eyes off the road just long enough to glare at his passenger, ignoring her sniffles since she was the cause of their current predicament. It pissed him off even more that all he wanted to do was pull her into his lap and comfort her.
He should have known better than to look her way. When his gaze met hers, it was all he could do to turn his attention back to the situation at hand. Why she affected him the way she did, he had no idea. But he’d wanted her since the first time he’d studied her picture as it trembled in Winnie’s hand.
Winnie’s younger sister had been kidnapped by The Society, a pseudo cult that made their money by selling women to the highest bidder, supposedly for marriage. Yeah, that rarely happened. The women were used and then discarded. The idea of his Bliss being one of those women enraged him.
Focus, Connor. She’s not your Little girl. She’s a job.
But those eyes… they pulled him in every damn time.
Bliss was just as stunning in person as she had been in the photo. She looked nothing like Winnie, with her sister’s fair skin and curly blonde hair. With Bliss’s deep caramel skin, sleek black hair, and pale aquamarine eyes that stole his breath, she was the perfect mix of beauty, wariness, and unpredictability. Emphasis on the unpredictable part. One minute, she was quiet and doing what she was told. The next, she was smashing windows and yelling insults at Russian thugs.
She'd keep a Daddy on his toes. Or, like now, drive him insane. Yet everything in him wanted to be that Daddy, whether he liked to admit it or not. She needed structure and discipline. His discipline.
Bliss remained silent in a vain attempt to cool his temper. If she was smart, she’d stay that way. He’d been a Daddy for a long time, but he’d never wanted to wear someone out as much as he did the Little girl sitting next to him, doing her best to become invisible.
And what was going on in his head that part of him hated the fact she was playing it smart and staying silent? Part of him wanted her to push back just so he could show her who was in charge. But there would be time for that later.
Lucky for her, his top priority was her safety. If it weren’t, she’d have been over his knee twenty minutes ago when she’d blown their getaway. He could picture her squirming over his lap, her dress flipped up, his hand turning her bottom red.
Stop it, man. Not the time.
The hardening of his cock shoved his temper right over the edge. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Man, he had to get a grip on himself before he gave in to the urge to yank her across his knee and give her the spanking she so richly deserved. Ignoring his itchy palm took all the control he’d developed through the years.
Bliss flinched and scrunched her nose. Cute. He wasn’t in the mood for cute.
She turned those mesmerizing eyes his way. The wounded expression punched the Daddy in him right in the gut. “I said I was sorry.”
He hated seeing her hurt, even if she brought it on herself. The tremor in her voice tried to tug at his heartstrings, but he refused to allow them to be tugged. He was a grown-ass man. He could discuss her actions without shouting or cursing.
With all the calm he could muster, he tried again. “That’s not what I asked. We could have slipped right past Egoradov’s men and gotten a solid head start. But, no, you had to scream… What did you even yell at them?”
A quick glance in the rearview mirror showed the Russians still keeping pace. At least they weren’t in shooting range yet. But they were too damn close. One mistake, and the Russians would have them. He returned his attention to Bliss.
A lovely pink flagged her cheeks. She shook her head but gave in when he raised a brow. “I called them apridurok.”
He continued to stare straight ahead. It was a good thing he needed to keep his hands on the wheel, or he might have been tempted to strangle her. “Explain. Now.”
“It’s Russian for douche canoe.”
Of course it was. She was sassy even in Russian. He fought back a grin. Douche canoe? In Russian? If she was trying to throw him off, it worked. “You know the Russian word for douche canoe?”
