Biker's Forbidden Desire
But the clock on the mantel read 12:17 PM.
She was late. Isabella was never late.
I checked my encrypted satellite phone. The screen was completely blank. No text, no missed pings.
With a sudden burst of frantic energy, the baby struck the base of the tower. The structure gave way, the blocks scattering across the floor with a series of sharp clatters. He let out a delighted screech, sprawling forward to gather the pieces. I reached down to help him, but my phone suddenly vibrated violently against my thigh. An unknown, heavily masked digital number filled the screen.