Page 19 of Protector Unmatched

9

Checking into Daphne’s background was child’s play—and more than just a little surprising. Pearce read through the information he’d gathered—illegally—from various government sites and—legally—from public records. In fact, he was so engrossed in the details that he realized too late that he was no longer alone in the command center.

“She’s a convicted criminal?”

Pearce spun around to stare at Enya. “What do you want?”

Enya shrugged and pulled an office chair closer to sit down. “Just wanted you to know that I have your back.”

Surprised, Pearce kept looking at her. “And why’s that?”

“’Cause the others all seem to have amnesia when it comes to all the rules they broke when it came to their mates.”

“Daphne isn’t my mate.”

“Not yet. But the way you defended your actions just now shows me that you care about her.”

“I only care about the fact that I can’t just eliminate an innocent woman because of a vision Winter had.”

“Innocent?” Enya chuckled and pointed to the monitor. “Hardly. Looks like she has a bit of a rap sheet.”

“One single conviction,” he corrected her, and lifted his index finger to emphasize it. “For hacking. Which isn’t any worse than what I do on a daily basis.”

“True, but you do it to save the world.”

“We don’t know what Daphne’s motivation might have been, but it surely wasn’t monetary. She has no savings to speak of, and she lives in a run-down apartment and covers the peeling paint with a poster.”

“You were in her apartment?”

Shit! He’d said too much. “Just doing my due diligence,” he said curtly, and turned back to the computer.

There was a short pause, then Enya shook her head. “You were in her place when she was there. Did you spy on her? Watch her get undressed?”

Clenching his jaw, he glared at his fellow Stealth Guardian. “I’m not some pervert!”

Enya leaned back and lifted her hands. “I didn’t say that. Now, if we were talking about Manus… But you, I don’t see you doing that. So, why were you blushing when I asked you?”

“I wasn’t blushing!”

“Pearce, I’m not blind. I can tell when somebody’s blushing.”

He was saved from answering Enya’s embarrassing observation when a window suddenly popped open on his screen.

Alert. Searches for Pearce Douglas performed during the last 120 minutes: nineteen. More details.

“What’s that?” Enya asked.

“The program that captures every search that somebody runs on anybody here in the compound.”

“Oh, I forgot about that. Who would search for you nineteen times in two hours?”

“Somebody who wants to know who I really am.” It wasn’t hard to guess who it was.

“Daphne?” Enya murmured.

He nodded.

“But why tonight? And how does she know your full name?”