Page 23 of Daddy’s Hunted Bride

“All right.” Carrying her over to her crib, I set her down on the soft mattress inside. “You stay right here and Daddy will be back with something for you to wear.”

“What kind of something?” Suspicion colors her tone and I can’t help but chuckle.

She really is a clever little thing.

“One of Daddy’s shirts, for now. We’ll have to call your Uncle Max to have some proper Little girl clothes sent over soon.”

“Is Uncle Max one of your brothers?”

“No, he’s just… a family friend.” He’s actually one of the wealthiest men on the planet, but that information might be a bit much for my Little girl at the moment.

With her eyes still narrowed, she tilts her head. “What if I don’t want to wear those big fluffy dresses?”

“That’s fine. We’ll have plenty of clothes to choose from. Daddy will want you to wear them sometimes, but if you’d rather wear overalls or shorts to play with your cousins that’s fine. Lanie likes to play outdoors whenever she can, so she doesn’t wear the fluffy dresses unless she has to.”

“I see.”

There’s a hint of something in her tone that I can’t quite place, and it burrows beneath my skin, an itch I can’t quite scratch as I try to pin down what might be happening in that busy brain of hers. “In the meantime, you can wear one of Daddy’s shirts around the house. I’ll be right back and then we can get to our wedding brunch.”

“Okay.”

I should probably push her to say “Yes, Daddy” but she’s being so cooperative I don’t want to risk it. There will be plenty of time to enforce manners later.

Leaving her in her crib, clutching her new stuffie friend, I ease open the door to my bedroom, holding up my hands when my family all turns as one. “I’m just coming to grab a shirt for Vanessa and then we’ll be ready for you guys.”

“Hurry up, Uncle Dane!” Lanie whines, slumping dramatically against Axel’s chest. “We’re starving.”

“Melanie Brynne, don’t be rude.” My brother frowns down at his Little girl, who smiles sheepishly but otherwise doesn’t look the least bit repentant. “I swear I’m starting to think I don’t spank you enough,” he mutters with a shake of his head.

I catch my brother Eli’s eye and we both look away quickly to hide our grins. We’ve had more than one discussion about how much our brother lets his Little girl get away with, but agreeing with him on this point would only paint a target on both our backs so we let it go.

“I’ll be right back with Vanessa.” Grabbing an old t-shirt from my dresser, I head back to the nursery.

And stop dead in my tracks at the sight that greets me.

“What do you think you’re doing, little girl?”

Vanessa

Fuck.

I knew it was risky, climbing out of that crib and trying to escape through a window. But I had to at least try. Nobody ever became a Final Girl by just doing what she was told.

Now, however, I’m wishing I’d stuck with my plan of pretending to be a good, well-behaved Little girl until I won another shot at my freedom. Because the ice coating Dane’s voice does not bode well for my already sore ass.

Spinning away from the window I hadn’t even managed to open, I shove my hands behind me, as if that will somehow be enough to protect me if he decides I need to be punished. “Um. I was just… exploring.”

“Exploring.”

It’s clear from the flat tone of his voice he doesn’t believe me. But I’m stubborn, probably too stubborn for my own good, and I refuse to confess to something he didn’t actually catch me doing.

“Yes.” I tilt my chin in the air. “It’s my room, right? Why shouldn’t I be allowed to explore?”

“Because Daddy told you to stay in your crib.” With slow, deliberate steps, he advances on me, and my breath catches in my chest. “If you had asked, Daddy would have told you that there’d be plenty of time to explore later. But you didn’t ask, did you, little fox?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Okay, time to try the “be the goodest good girl ever” plan again. Ducking my head, I drop my tone, adding a soft sniffle for effect. “No, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

Bare feet stop in front of me, and then he grips my chin, forcing me to look up into those dark, glittering eyes. And I can’t be sure whether I should be relieved or terrified to find amusement dancing there in the brown.