Page 32 of Protector Unmatched

Enya rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it your fault. It’s his. And he knows it.” She tossed him a chiding look. Then her anger seemed to disappear. “Anyway, when he didn’t show up to help me, I started looking for him. We look out for each other, you know.”

Daphne smiled. Enya seemed to be a good person. A friend who cared. “I’m glad. And just so you know, he didn’t stand you up for…” She motioned toward the bedroom. “He helped me out of a bad situation earlier. Without him, who knows what would have happened?”

Enya raised an eyebrow and glanced at Pearce. “Care to share?”

“That’s up to Daphne,” he replied.

Daphne looked at Pearce. She didn’t want to involve anybody else in this mess. It was enough that Pearce knew. “I don’t wanna burden anybody with this.”

Pearce squeezed her arm. “Enya is in the same business as I. If we combine forces, I think we can figure out how to help your brother.”

She held Pearce’s gaze. “Are you sure?”

“Enya can help,” Pearce insisted.

Slowly, Daphne nodded. “If you’re sure about it.”

“I am.” He turned to Enya. “Maybe we should all sit down.”

“That bad, huh?” Enya asked.

“Well, it’s not good,” Pearce said, then began to explain to his roommate what Daphne had gotten herself into.

He left out the fact that Daphne had a criminal record, and she was grateful for it. She didn’t want to be judged by the beautiful blonde who seemed perfect in every way. It was bad enough that it was evident that Daphne was sleeping with Pearce a mere day after first meeting him. Right now, she didn’t know what to think of it herself. She’d enjoyed Pearce’s touch, felt wonderful when he’d made her climax, and had wanted to go further with him. Hell, she’d been more than eager to feel him inside her, without protection, without a barrier, even though he was a stranger. But in his arms, she’d felt safe. Safer than she’d ever felt.

When Pearce finished recounting the events of the night, Enya leaned back into the sofa cushions and blew out a breath. “Well, fuck me! We’ve gotta get those motherfuckers.”

Daphne successfully suppressed a grin. Perhaps Enya wasn’t that perfect after all. She cursed like a sailor and made no attempt at apologizing for it. It actually made her a bit more approachable—and likeable.

“How?” Daphne asked. “I can’t trace my brother’s phone. He switched off the GPS tracking I installed on it.”

“You installed GPS tracking on your brother’s phone?” Enya asked. “Why?”

“He always gets into trouble. I wanted to keep tabs on him.”

“Smart,” Pearce said. “Then we have to try to trace the kidnapper’s phone instead. I suppose there was no caller ID?”

“It’s the same phone,” Daphne said.

“What do you mean?” Pearce asked.

“The kidnapper used Tim’s phone to communicate with me.”

Pearce and Enya exchanged a look. “Amateurs,” they said in unison.

“If you think of tracing it, I had the same idea,” Daphne said quickly, “but it’s switched off. He only seems to switch it on when he’s calling me. So, even if we manage to put a trace on it while he’s calling, what if he doesn’t stay on the phone long enough?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Pearce said. “We’ll hack into the carrier’s records, download the cell tower data, and figure out where the phone’s been since your brother was taken. Right, Enya?”

Enya nodded. “You’re the boss.”

Daphne looked from Pearce to Enya. “But I can’t let you do something illegal. If you get caught, it’s on me. And then you’re no better off than I.” She couldn’t live with the guilt of driving somebody to commit a crime to save her and her brother.

“Get caught?” Enya laughed.

Pearce joined in.

“She’s funny, you know,” Enya said. “I like her.”