by Frost, E J
He narrows his eyes at me. “Sure?”
“Sure.” I shrug. “Unlike some, I’m not trying to hide anything.”
I leave him red-faced.
* * *
I make a pit stop in my cabin to check my email and shower before joining my little girl. Still no message from Reyes with the staff rotas, but the Pink Pearl IT guys have been busy. They’ve sent me a series of emails with CCTV footage from two other hall cameras, confirmation that the picture from the CCTV footage matches the guest ID photo of Sarah McCall, and all the receipts a forensic accountant’s cold little heart could desire, including Black’s room service and spa bills. I fire back requests for room service and spa bills for the other victims and a list of staff who were on cruises with all five victims plus at least one previous cruise with Rod McCall.
Buried in emails from the IT guys, there’s an email from Eileen Samuels, the helpful Manchester constable, responding to my message about Colin’s threat against Miranda’s baby. Samuels’s response is more detailed than I could have hoped for and she’s included her cell number. After checking the time to make sure I’m not calling her in the middle of the night, I dial it.
She answers on the second ring. “Eileen Samuels.”
“This is James Logan. Thank you for responding to my email.”
“No worries. Any questions?”
“I want to do whatever it takes to have the threat investigated. I understand the Crown Prosecution Service may refuse to bring charges, but I want to proceed as far as I can. You said I could make a statement by Skype?”
“Yes. I’ll forward the emails to my counterpart in Surrey and have them contact you for your statement. They’ll likely bring Mr. Ainsworth-Porter in for questioning. You understand that all they may be able to do is give him a caution?”
“I understand. And this family solicitor you recommended, she’s in Manchester but you think she’s as good as any London solicitor?”
“I do,” Samuels says firmly. “At half the price.”
“Well, I appreciate that.”
“Any custody battle is likely to get expensive, but Rona will give it to you straight. If she doesn’t think you can win, she’ll tell you rather than running up a big bill.”
“I appreciate that, too.”
“In the interests of full disclosure, Rona’s a relation. My sister’s boyfriend’s cousin. But I’d heard about her before my sister began dating Eph. She really is good.”
“Thank you. I’ll call her.”
“Mr. Logan.” She clears her throat. “I’m not trying to dissuade you. Mr. Ainsworth-Porter’s threat is both actionable and vile, particularly against an unborn child. But if your relationship with Mrs. Porter has any, um, elements of the matter that brought you to Manchester a few years ago, you have to understand that the Surrey Police are going to dredge all of that up—in a way that’s likely to be unpleasant for you. And if you end up in front of a judge to determine custody, it’s likely to come out there, too.”
I tuck my phone into my shoulder so I can rub my hand over my face. “I’ve thought about this. I understand the details of my relationship with Miranda will probably come out, and that it may make both the police and a judge unsympathetic. But I have to try. I can’t leave my daughter in the hands of man who threatened to kill her.”
“I understand. In that case, I suggest you be up-front with Rona so she knows what she’s getting into. I don’t think it will affect her decision to take the instruction, but she’ll be able to give you better advice if she knows everything from the beginning.”
“Okay, I appreciate that. Thanks so much for all your help, and congratulations.”
“Congratulations?”
“From memory, you were a detective constable the last time we spoke. You made sergeant.”
“Ah, yes, I did. Thank you. Next time you find yourself in Manchester, pop in and say hello.”
Pleased that I haven’t alienated her, I say my goodbyes. I check the time again and call the number she’s given me for Rona Sutton, even though I’m sure her office will be closed. I get the lawyer’s voicemail and leave a message.
Shutting off my phone, I stare at the black screen as though it can give me answers. Am I doing the right thing? Will involving the police make Colin think twice about hurting the baby, or will it just escalate him from threats to actual violence? I wish I knew the man better. Now, I never will. Involving the police will make an enemy of him. And do I even want custody of Miranda’s baby? I’ve never felt any driving urge to have a family. I’ve been happy just being Uncle Logan. Even those futile, two a.m. dreams I nurtured of Miranda leaving Colin and choosing me never went beyond marriage. I can’t reconcile my lifestyle with having kids, although I know Ryan and some of my other club-brothers and sisters manage somehow.
My phone doesn’t give me any answers. I remind myself of Emily’s warning not to get too far ahead of myself. The first step is to make sure the baby’s safe. The next step is to force Miranda to take a paternity test. I’ve started the ball rolling. That’s all I can do for now. Time to put all this shit aside and concentrate on the things I can do. And the first of those is to take a shower and shave for my little girl.
Chapter Ten
Emily
It’s been well over an hour since the security guard seized Logan’s bag. More than fifteen minutes since I heard his voice through the connecting door. More than five minutes since I heard the pattering of his shower.
I’m trying hard to be patient. Not to be anxious. He told me everything would be fine. I trust my daddy. I’ve been productive while I’ve been waiting. After rinsing the entire Sahara out of my bathing suit, I’ve showered, shaved, and done the lotion ritual but skipped my backside again. When Daddy didn’t appear even after I’d taken the time to dry my hair, I got busy on my laptop. I’ve caught up on my blog tour, researched free shared-calendar apps since it occurred to me it would be easier to keep a schedule if I had it on my phone, and written another scene of lust-soaked nobility. My highlander romance is shaping up faster than I deserve, given how little time I’ve spent on it since meeting Logan.
It’s not that I’ve been sitting around, twiddling my thumbs. It’s just that I really, really want to be with my daddy. We’ve had such a good day already and I want more. I know I’m being greedy. I should be grateful that he’s given me so much attention. He’s busy. He has a lot on his mind. I don’t want to add to his burdens by being too demanding.
But I want my daddy so much.
I square my shoulders and open a new document in my manuscript program. Before I started the highlander series, I wrote a couple of paranormal romances. Vampires, werewolves, and sidhe, oh my. It was a three-book contract, and although they sold pretty well, I ran out of inspiration before I even managed to outline a fourth book. That was right around the time I left Ash, and I didn’t have much interest in anything other than writing absolute bastard villains and killing them off in ever-more gruesome ways. That trope worked well for historical fiction, so I stuck with it. But playing with my Wolfy-Daddy these last few days, I’ve remembered how much fun werewolves can be.
Most werewolf books are set in forests, or cities if they’re urban fantasy, but I have a vague recollection from my research that there are also desert wolves. After playing on the beach today, a desert seems like a fun setting for a werewolf romance. If I make my heroine an archaeologist, there could be mummies and vampires, too. The Mummy with Brendan Fraser is one of my favorite movies and his character is a bit of a daddy, so that’s good inspiration. I start typing ideas and have banged out the roughest of outlines before Logan knocks on the connecting door and comes through.
Every thought of being cool, of being big and undemanding, flies right out of the balcony doors when I see Logan. His hair’s rumpled and spiky from his shower. Jaw freshly shaven. Skin a deeper gold from our day in the sun. A white Oxford stretches across his wide chest, sleeves rolled up to show his corded forearms.
Strong forearms always make me think of a spanking, and that thought ignites a fire in my butt. The black belt riding low on his hips makes me hotter, and the way his broken-in jeans fit him just right spreads the heat up between my legs.
How can I possibly be cool when this man is my daddy?
I shriek with delight, jump up from my desk, and race to him, waving my arms over my head. Chuckling, he holds out his arms, scoops me up when I launch myself at him, and wraps me into a koala-baby hug before he sits down on the edge of my bed and lets me cover his face with kisses.
He eventually takes control, fisting my hair to hold me still and nipping at my lips to make me wriggle. When I’m pushing at him and protesting the stings, he pulls back and spears me with those hot, dark eyes. “Miss me?”
“So much, Daddy.” I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze tight. “You were gone foreeeeever.”
“I was, huh? Forever and ever?”
I nod solemnly, tugging my hair against his hold even though it smarts. The little stings in my scalp and lips join the heat between my legs and make me tingle all over.
“What’d you do while I was gone forever and ever?”
“I took a shower and got the sand out, which was harder than it sounds because there was sand everywhere. Like an entire beach in my bathing suit, seriously. And I did the lotion ritual because I think I got a little too much sun even though I did put enough sunblock on, promise. I didn’t put any lotion on my bottom because you said I was going to get paddled.” He gives me a nod and a smile that make my heart squeeze tight while butterflies fill my belly. “And then I wrote, but I can’t tell you what about.”
“You can’t?” Logan’s eyes narrow. “Because it has bad words in it?”
“No, Daddy. I can’t tell you about it because it’s about a wolfy-daddy and you’re my inspiration and if I tell you, it’ll mess up my muse.”
He chuckles, a rich, masculine roll of amusement.
“Well, we wouldn’t want that. Let’s see if we can give you some more inspiration, little girl. Did you think about a reward while I was gone forever and ever?”
I did, but I’m still not sure if I should ask for it. If he takes it wrong, it could go as badly as our first dinner together when I reached for the check and ended up plugged for my stupidity. “Please promise you won’t take it wrong?”
He lifts an eyebrow, but he’s still smiling his Wolfy-Daddy smile so I plunge ahead.
“There’s a sushi restaurant on board,” I begin.
“I noticed.”
Of course, he did because Logan notices everything. His expression doesn’t give me any clues as to how he’s going to take it if I say I want to treat him to dinner.
“Please, please, could we go to dinner there and please can I pay for it because it’s not included in the cruise and I haven’t paid for anything?”
I watch his face anxiously as I speak but I can’t tell anything from his expression. He simply watches me back. His smile has faded, but he’s not frowning so I don’t think I’ve made him angry. I hope I haven’t.
“How is it a reward if you pay for it?” he asks.
“It’s a reward because we both like sushi, and it’ll make me happy to treat you. Please, Daddy, please?”
“Mmm.” He taps the tip of my nose. “I like the idea of sushi for dinner. Nice and light before our scene. And I’d like you to have a few sips of sake as well. What I don’t like is the idea of you paying. First, I invited you on this cruise and Daddy pays for the things Daddy invites you to. Second, this is your reward for being an angel today. You shouldn’t pay for your own reward.”
“Please?” I whisper. I don’t want to make him angry, but I don’t want sushi if he has to pay extra for it. He opens his mouth, and I can tell he’s going to insist on paying. “Can I pick something else? Please?”
He tips his head to the side. “You really want to pay, huh?”
I nod so hard my eyes water.
“Okay, this once. One time. I mean it, Emily. You’re getting your way because this is a reward, but this is not going to start a pattern, either in you paying for things, or in finding ways to work around Daddy’s rules.”
“I promise I wasn’t trying to work around your rules. I didn’t even think about that. I just want to pay for this one thing because you’ve paid for everything and I feel guilty.”
“I don’t want you to feel guilty. All I’ve paid for is your plane ticket. The cruise line’s comping your room and board because you’re my cover.”
My stomach drops. “You paid for me to fly first class? That must have cost a fortune!”
Logan chuckles. “I’d like to claim credit since it made an impression, but, no, I upgraded both of our tickets with frequent flyer miles.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Emmy, I appreciate your frugality. Believe me, I appreciate it. And I understand that although you’re my submissive, in terms of money, you want us to be equals—”
I shake my head. That’s not what I want. Not at all.
“Um, okay. Let’s back up.” He strokes his knuckles down my cheek and I lean into his touch. When his hand lingers, I kiss his knuckles. “If you could have anything, not thinking about practicalities right now, just what your heart wants, how would you like to deal with money between us?”
I bite my lips. I don’t know if I can explain. Lew demanded that I turn my income over to him as part of my submission, and I refused. It was one of many things we fought about, but it was one of the bigger issues. Even if I’d wanted to give over that control—which I didn’t—it was impossible at the time. My finances were still tangled with Ash’s. It actually took over a year of arguing and lawyers to separate things completely. Now, there’s nothing holding me back, except fear. But Logan said he’d make it safe for me to be little all the time and I desperately want that.
“I want—I mean, have you ever—have you had a slave before?”
“That wasn’t what I asked you, little girl, but in answer to your question, no, I haven’t had a slave. I’ve had some very dependent submissives, though, including two who wanted to turn their finances over to me and one who actually did. Is that what you’re thinking?”
“I’d just like a weekly allowance,” I whisper against his knuckles.
“Would that help you feel little?”
I nod. “And I’d have to ask Daddy for big purchases. Things I couldn’t buy just from saving up my allowance.”
Logan slides his hand around my cheek, fists both hands in my hair and draws me forward. While he’s kissing me, I try to look into his eyes, because I have a bad feeling that he’s kissing me to avoid eye-contact, and if I could see what’s in his eyes, I wouldn’t like it.
“When we get back to New York, we’ll talk more about this,” he says. He presses his forehead against mine as he speaks, and now all I can see is one big dark eye peering back at me and I still can’t read his expression. “We’ll take it in steps. Add me to your accounts first. Then we’ll set up another account for your allowance and you’ll have a card for that account only. I’ll keep the cards for your other accounts in my safe. You’ll always be able to go to your bank in case of emergency.” He lifts his head and kisses me on the forehead. “I know you want to be dependent on Daddy, and I’ll do everything I can to make you feel that way while making sure you’re not cut off from your own money if you need it.”
“Thank you, Daddy. Ta so much. I know you’ll keep me safe.”
He tucks my face into his neck and hugs me tightly. “This is a huge thing for me, baby, both in terms of your trust and the responsibility you’re asking me to take on. I know you know that.”
“I do.” I rub my cheek against his jaw and the column of his neck, feeling his strength. “It’s a huge thing for me, too. It’s what—I couldn’t—” I take a deep breath, pulling his strength into me, and try again. “I haven’t been able to give up this much control before. But I want to with you. If you meant it a
bout letting me be little all the time. It’s important.”
“I did mean it. And if this is important to you, we’ll make it work, sweetheart.”
I snuggle so deeply into him that I might never find my way out of his arms. “Thank you.”
“Okay, now that we’ve sorted what’s really going on with you, do you still want sushi?”
I nod into his neck. “Please, Daddy.”
“Mmm.” He rubs his palm up and down my back, pressing me even deeper into his warmth and strength. “Have you made a reservation?”
“I did, but I told them I might have to cancel if it wasn’t okay with you.”
“Good girl. What time?”
“Seven. Is that enough time before our scene?”
“Yes, that’s fine.” He pulls back to check his wrist, sighs, and looks around until he sees the clock on the bedside table. “Plenty of time. Emmy, I need you to be honest with me about how your body’s feeling. You said you’d had too much sun. I’d planned to flog you during the scene tonight. Are you too sunburned?”
“I’m okay,” I say truthfully. It’s only my face and upper chest that have that tight, stingy feeling, and I put aloe on them as well as lotion. “I’m only a little burned here.”
I pat my cheek and collarbone with my fingertips and feel the lingering heat.
“Okay, I’ll keep the flogging to your back and be careful when I’m handling your breasts.”
I wriggle as a different kind of heat flushes me. “Ta, Daddy.”
Logan’s expression finally changes, from a blank-face that I’m worried he’s using to cover his discomfort to pure Wolfy-Daddy. “Like that idea, do you, little girl?”
“Little bit. Itty-bitty bit.”
“Uh-huh. If I check your knickers, will I find them damp?”
He would if I was wearing any. “Kinda.”
“You’re not wearing any knickers, are you?”
I clap my hand over my mouth to smother the giggle that tickles up out of my chest.
