Page 23 of Daddies Dark Desires (Forbidden Fantasies)
Of course, it has to be Grant.
One peek over my shoulder shows his no nonsense expression. Calm. All business.
8
GRANT
Harper doesn’t shoot straight up like any other employee—intern or no—would at my voice. She straightens slowly, peeking over her shoulder at me with feigned innocence that I would believe if I were anyone else.
It makes me step closer when she turns back to put away the file box she was rifling through. Like she’s ignoring my presence. Like I’m not her boss. Like I’m going to let her get away with being a brat.
“I asked you a question, little girl.” That has her back going rigid, and she spins toward me, hands on her hips and eyes on fire. Oh that did it.
There’s the response I want. I file that nugget away for later.
Her calm has burned away. “I am not a little girl.”
I use my size to tower over her, but her arms don’t drop. If anything, my nearness seems to puff her up even more. I close the distance between us almost completely, knowing I should very much be thinking of her as a little girl.
As my best friend’s daughter.
Completely off limits, but I can’t stop the way my body curls over hers, protective and primal. She doesn’t shrink back onebit, but her head tips back to maintain eye contact. We’re close enough to kiss.
At this angle, it’s hard to maintain her gaze instead of perusing her body. The way her hands are planted on her hips present her luscious breasts toward me, and her choice in tops creates a deep V from this angle, giving me miles of cleavage to ogle if I’d like.
The mere periphery of all her pale skin makes my insides burn. She’s no little girl. I have no arguments to deny that she is a fully formed woman.
Fuck, my hands clench into fists before I force them to relax.
Somehow, I keep myself locked in. So does she. The battle is sexier than I imagined. Most women can’t stand their ground against me. They cower and duck under my naturally honed authority.
Even when I’m gentle.
Harper doesn’t seem to struggle with it at all, staring me down like she’s about to eviscerate me with her plump, red-stained mouth.
“What. Are. You. Doing. Little girl?” I repeat myself. It’s never good to make me do so.
But the way annoyance squints her eyes at me is a damn aphrodisiac. “My job, old man.”
I scarcely squash a growl. That should hurt me some. I am far, far too old for her. Too old to be thinking the things I have been about her and her body. Twenty-six years older than the woman I’m boxing in.
Fuck, I’m a bastard. This is my best friend’s daughter.
Her effect on me should be more surprising, but it isn’t. Harper is the exact kind of woman I like. One that’s harder to find than I can properly express.
And it’s her spirit that hooks me the most. This brattiness that begs to be punished. To push and push until she finds the detonation button.
I’ve got a long fuse. A slow burn. She’s going to have to push a lot to break my resolve.
I have a bad feeling she won’t back down until she does.
“It is not your job to be rifling through the files in here. We have people for that. The very same people who have been depositing and retrieving files from your desk all week.” My body rocks and hers follows the move. I’m prepared for a fight without the promise of follow through. “So, tell me, what’s the real reason you’re in here?”
“You’re the experienced investigator. Why don’t you tell me why I’m in here?”
The challenge in her lifted brow makes my hands itch to lean her over my knee and spank the insolence right out of her.
But I know what would send her in here instead of asking someone to follow protocol. She’s not wild with the rules. Harper is rather strict in the way she operates, so that means she’s digging for something that’s connected with her father.
