Protector Daddy (MC Daddies 3)

Steele’s jaw tightened but he didn’t say anything. However, Spike knew that was enough to start him thinking about what to do with these assholes.

Steele nodded, opening his mouth to say something more when there was a knock at the door. He frowned as Grady rose smoothly from his chair. He walked over to the door, opening it and speaking quietly to the man on the other side.

Then he stepped back and gestured for the idiot from downstairs t

o come in. “Uh, Mr. Steele?”

“Yes, Jerry?”

“There’s a woman here to see you.”

Steele sighed. “I don’t need any company. Tell her thank you, but no.”

Spike wouldn’t have been so polite. Especially not with how often Steele was propositioned.

“Umm, this woman . . . she’s not . . . she’s not your usual type.”

Steele raised his eyebrows. “I have a usual type?”

Spike snorted. Steele turned to him.

“Blonde, busty and tall,” Spike told him.

“I hadn’t realized I’d become so predictable. So I’m guessing she’s a short brunette?”

“Well, yeah, she is, but that’s not what I mean. I don’t think she’s here for a fuck. Umm, she seems like a lady.”

Spike sat up straight. No, it couldn’t be. There were plenty of short brunettes in this city. No way it would be her.

“My answer remains the same,” Steele said in a low voice.

“Right, sir. Do you want to tell her yourself?”

“No, I don’t want to tell her. Get rid of her.”

Something didn’t sit right in Spike’s gut. It couldn’t be her. Impossible. Why would she be here? Yet he couldn’t stop himself from checking. He walked over to the windows. And caught sight of dark gleaming hair as a woman dressed in red strode towards the back room where all the strippers got ready.

Fuck. Was it her?

Spike watched until the woman disappeared. He turned to Jerry. “This woman, was she carrying an ugly, oversized purse? Maybe with a dog in it?”

“A dog?” Steele asked, looking shocked.

“I didn’t see a dog, but yeah, she did have a big purse,” Jerry replied.

“You know her?” Steele asked curiously. There was something in his gaze. A reminder of their shared ties. “Do you want her sent up?”

“Don’t know her. May have met her. Can’t understand why she’d be here. Or asking for you.”

Unless she’d followed him. But why ask for Steele? Fuck.

“Send her up,” Steele told Jerry.

Jerry disappeared before Spike could tell him not to bother, that she’d already wandered off.

“Tell me about this woman,” Steele said, watching him with predatory eyes. Spike just stared back at him calmly.

Jerry returned, his breath coming in harsh pants. “She’s disappeared.”