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“I’m so fucking scared, Bryant.”
“I know, princess. But Daddy’s right here, and I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear.”
Lifting her head, she looked up at him, love and trust shining out at him from those beautiful baby blues. Those were two gifts he swore to himself he would never again take for granted. “Is MaryAnn going to be okay?”
God, was it any wonder he’d fallen so hard for her? Even in the midst of her own fear and worry, her concern was for a woman she’d once thought had conspired to kill her. “Did you see the way Dean looked at her? He’ll keep her safe.”
“Bryant Monroe, are you playing matchmaker?”
Caught red-handed. “Dean is the best in the business. And if he justhappensto have a weakness for pretty brunettes, well, that’s just a happy coincidence, isn’t it?”
“Sneaky. I like it.” Mischief sparkled in her eyes. “Liv and I must be rubbing off on you, lawyer-boy.”
“Careful, princess. Dean won’t mind waiting if I need to warm your bottom for you before we leave.”
“Whatever you say, Monroe.”
The quick spanking was far too short for his liking, but it relaxed her even more than the playful banter had, which had been his goal. When they finally made their way down to the lobby, Dean raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in an amused smirk, but he didn’t comment.
It didn’t escape his notice that MaryAnn hovered right next to Dean, as though she could already sense she was safer by his side. Good. He didn’t see her trying to do something stupid like run away, but the more closely she followed Dean’s instructions, the better.
“Ready?” Bryant asked when they stepped out into the lobby.
All eyes went to MaryAnn. For just a moment, she seemed to shrink in on herself, eyes wider, face paler than ever. But then she straightened her shoulders, and some of that hard-won strength filled her eyes. “Where are we going?”
“My house,” Dean said, and Bryant’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You’ll be staying with me until the situation is under control.”
That was… unexpected. Although Dean was mostly out of the security business these days, Bryant knew for a fact he still owned a few safe houses in multiple states. Then again, he’d been to Dean’s house a few times, and the security there was better than the White House. MaryAnn would be safer there than pretty much anywhere else on the planet.
“Okay.” MaryAnn took a deep breath. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
THE END
Keep readingfor a sneak peek at MaryAnn’s story inDaddy’s Mercy!
DADDY’S MERCY PREVIEW - CHAPTER 1
You’ll be staying with me until the situation is under control.
Those words, spoken in Dean Mitchell’s firm, no-arguments-allowed tone, played over and over in her mind as she drove obediently behind the giant black truck. She’d tried to argue when they’d first told her they were moving her, but between Dean and her stern-faced lawyer, Bryant, she hadn’t stood a chance.
As if she ever stood a chance of standing up to anyone.
So now she was driving to some strange man’s house, where she would basically be on lockdown until the man she’d thought she’d loved was back behind bars.
But what if they never caught Nate? Surely a man like Dean had better things to do than spend the rest of his life babysitting a woman who was too stupid to know when she was dating a serial killer. What was the time limit on this situation? What was she supposed to do if they just decided it was safe for her to return home and Nate was still out there, waiting?
Panic locked around her chest like a vice, tightening and tightening until it felt as though she couldn’t draw even a molecule of oxygen into her lungs. Blackness crept along the edges of her vision and her hands tightened on the steering wheel as she tried desperately to will it back.
She wouldnotmake a fool of herself by having a panic attack and crashing her car into the tailgate of Dean’s truck.
Focusing on her fingers, she forced her pinkies to loosen their death grip, followed by her ring fingers. One by one, until she was holding the wheel like a normal person and not like someone in danger of drowning.
As her fingers relaxed, so did the vice around her chest, and she was finally able to drag in a deep breath. It exploded out of her as a sort of half-laugh, half-sob and she briefly wondered if that was the sound of someone losing the last bit of their sanity.
But then she was able to pull in another lungful of oxygen, and this time she held it for the full count of five like her therapist had taught her before slowly blowing the air out through her mouth. With each breath, the blackness around the edges of her vision receded a little bit more, and the tension in her muscles gradually eased.
By the time she turned onto a long, winding driveway lined with dozens of trees, the panic attack had mostly receded. Thank god, because she would have died of embarrassment if Dean had caught her in the middle of it. The last thing she needed was the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on thinking she was a total nutjob.
