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“Don’t worry, my sweet girl, we’ll fill that closet soon.”
My heart still swelled every time I heard that voice, but my pride reared its head for the briefest of seconds before I pushed it back down.
“Come here. I want to show you something,” he whispered. With a soft sigh, I looked over my shoulder to see him reaching out for me. His smile was soft and inviting and I couldn’t resist taking his hand. He pulled me close and kissed my forehead before leading me out of our bedroom down the stairs to Emma’s room.
She’d loved the pretty pink walls and the elegantly designed white furniture that made her feel like she had a big girl room. Her toys were already strewn about, along with several that Kieran had given her on move-in day.
Irma had taken her for the day under the pretense that she wanted to give us a bit of space so that we could finish unpacking, but I really think it was because she missed her. The two of them had gotten very close. Emma had really never gotten a chance at a grandmother. My parents had died when I was very young and Trevor’s family had never really accepted me into his life, so it was kind of her first real chance to experience what it was like.
Kieran pulled me into her closet, and I stopped short.
He’d filled my daughter’s closet with brand new clothes. All of them had tags. I’d never really been able to shop at anything better than a thrift store or a secondhand shop for her. I couldn’t say anything at all for a minute, too overwhelmed by anger and pride. This was all too much. My daughter and I weren’t charity cases for him to parade around in fancy clothes to all his friends. I wasn’t that kind of girl.
“I can’t accept this,” I blurted out. I pulled away from him and whirled around, unable to look at him for fear of losing my nerve.
“Will she not like them? I picked out her favorite colors,” he answered, his tone always so calm and understanding and it just made me that much more upset.
“It’s too much. The house, the clothes, everything, Kieran. I just… I can’t take being treated like a charity case,” I continued. My heart pounded in my chest, and I spun around, glaring at the new clothes because I couldn’t stare at him anymore. If I did, I’d just lose my nerve.
I was overwhelmed and I wasn’t really thinking about what I was saying. He stood behind me for a second in silence. I jumped when his arm wrapped around my chest, unable to stop myself from scowling when he pulled me against him.
“Before you worry about Emma’s clothes,my feistylittle girl,you should see what I bought for you,” he murmured, his voice still impossibly calm when I didn’t want it to be.
“You shouldn’t…” I began but he cut me off.
“Go upstairs and wait for me in the bedroom,” he instructed firmly. My stomach flipped a bit, but at that point I was too far into this to pull back.
“Fine,” I scoffed. I pulled away from him and he let me go. I practically ran out of Emma’s room and stomped up the stairs to our bedroom. First, I sat down on the bed and then I decided that wasn’t good either, so I paced back and forth until I heard his footsteps on the stairs. I escaped to the opposite side of the room and pulled my shoulders back, crossing my arms over my chest so I would come off as stronger or at least I hoped it would.
He walked into the bedroom with such confidence that it almost did me in, but I needed him to understand that I couldn’t take his help, that I needed to earn it myself. In his hands, he had a long garment bag and I looked toward him with confusion.
“I bought you a dress for tonight, and you’re going to wear it. Daddy is taking you out tonight,little girl,” he rumbled darkly, and my chest rose with courageous curiosity.
“You shouldn’t have,” I protested.
He ignored me and slowly unzipped the garment bag. He pulled out a deep forest green gown made of silk and lace. Even on the hanger, I could tell it was scandalous. The back dipped so far that it would reveal the cusp of my lower back. The front was layered, but it was cut in a way that much of my cleavage would be displayed salaciously. There was no possibility of a wearing bra with it at all.
The gown swept down to the floor. The lace was sewn in a sweeping design around the waist, but the lower half was a waterfall of roses that was thickest at the bottom hem.
It took my breath away and for a moment, I forgot why I was even angry. I glanced up into those captivating blue eyes of his and I could tell that he was waiting for me to say something.
“I can’t wear something like that,” I finally said, finding whatever courage I needed to in order to stand my ground.
“Did I say it was up to you, little girl?” he asked, his voice suddenly carrying the same dangerous tone that had preceded my first real punishment spanking. Immediately, my heart started pounding in my chest.
“No,” I stated, a bit more quietly.
“Answer me properly,” he scolded.
“No, Daddy,” I murmured. I sounded pouty even to my own ears.
In three steps, he cleared the room and was suddenly standing in front of me. He laid the dress down on the bed and slid a finger underneath my chin, forcing me to look at him even when I didn’t really want to.
“I know a lot of things have changed for you in the past week, little girl, and Daddy understands that can sometimes be overwhelming, but I want you to understand something very important,” he began.
“It’s too much. I’m not your char…” I started.
“Little girl!” he scolded much more loudly this time, and I slapped my lips shut immediately. My bottom tightened and I suddenly began rethinking all of this for the very first time.
