Page 41 of Daddy’s Hunted Bride

I’m happy to answer her questions, even the ones that worry me a bit about her intentions. But if she is going to try and run again, I’d rather her be prepared to fend for herself on the off chance something happens and I’m unable to find her immediately, even with the device Eli is supposed to be securing for me when he next meets with Gunther.

“Daddy?”

Vanessa’s soft question distracts me from my plans. “Yes, little fox?”

“Why do you want to keep me here? Is it just because I know too much?”

There’s curiosity in her tone, but I can hear a hint of something more rippling beneath the words. Worry, maybe?

“I can’t deny that’s part of it.” Whatever else I may be, I’m not a liar. “But it’s not the only reason.”

“What’s the other reason, then?”

“Because I want to.” For me, it’s as simple as that. I want her, so I’m keeping her.

An annoyed puff of air brushes past my ear. “You can’t just keep a person because you want to. That’s illegal.”

“Babygirl, we were raised by the mob. When I was twenty-one, I went on the run with my siblings after our uncle brutally murdered our parents. Every single piece of paperwork we have that proves our identities is a lie we paid good money for. You really think I’m worried about a little thing like kidnapping?”

“So you admit it’s kidnapping.” Triumph rings out in her voice, as if she believes she’s scored some kind of victory.

Adorable.

“I’m not as dumb as I look, little fox. I’m well aware that I’m holding you against your will.” At least for now. I am holding out hope that like the others, she will eventually come around and accept her new life as my Little girl.

But if I have to chase her through the woods a few more times before that happens, well, I won’t be sad about that, either.

For a while, silence falls, broken only by the sound of the leaves and twigs and other forest debris beneath my feet. I usually have a much softer tread, but the weight of my babygirl on my back is making it difficult to walk lightly. I can’t complain, though. Not when this is the longest we’ve gone without her trying to attack me or run away.

We’re almost to the house when she finally speaks again. “I don’t think you’re dumb.”

“What?”

“You said you’re not as dumb as you look. I don’t think you’re dumb at all.”

An uneasy feeling settles in my chest. “That’s just because you don’t know me that well, yet. Compared to my siblings, I’m quite the dunce, I assure you.”

“I don’t believe you.” Her tone has turned fierce, and that odd feeling in my chest intensifies. “A dunce wouldn’t be able to find his way through these woods the way you can. Or track someone on the run the way you just did with me. Maybe you’re not the same kind of smart as your siblings, but you’re pretty fu-freaking smart from where I’m standing.”

I don’t really have an argument for that, so I simply grunt as we make our way up the hill to the house I share with my family.

Gray is waiting for us in the foyer, pacing like a nervous mama waiting for her children to come home after curfew. Relief washes over her face the moment we step inside and she rushes toward us, plucking Vanessa off my back and cradling her close.

“Are you okay, little one? Are you hurt?”

“Just my butt,” Vanessa mutters, but there’s a hint of a blush in her cheeks that tells me she’s enjoying Gray’s fussing more than she lets on.

Unfortunately for her, Gray’s concern only goes so far. Setting Vanessa on her feet, Gray folds her arms and pins my babygirl with a stern glare. “I should hope so. You had us all worried sick, little girl.”

To my surprise, Vanessa doesn’t argue or even cop an attitude. Dropping her gaze to the ground, she nods in understanding. “I’m sorry, Auntie Gray.”

Judging by the way my sister stares at her, I’m not the only one surprised by this sudden change in behavior. “You’re forgiven, sweetheart. But no more running off. Understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Gray looks up at me, and that odd feeling in my chest from before returns with a vengeance at the look in her eyes. Almost as if she’s… proud of me?

I don’t like it.