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“Poor Ziggy, he’s so neglected. I’ve been a bad zebra mama.”
“I’m sure Ziggy understands, Little girl. Now, open up for the airplane.”
He swooped a spoonful of yogurt down andplop! It landed on the bed covers.
A surprised giggle left her. And she glanced up to find him watching her with affection and relief.
She owed it to him, to Jack, and to herself to push past this. “I’m all right, Ian.”
“You will be.” He let out a deep breath. “Maybe we better stick to a sandwich airplane.”
“It might be best, Daddy.”
After she’d eaten as much as she could, he got up. “I’m going to run you a bath and change the sheets while you’re in it.”
She made a face. “I’m sorry you have to take care of me.”
“That’s another punishment,” he told her sternly, picking up the notebook and writing something in it.
Assbaboons. She was going to be in so much trouble once they started punishing her again.
Forty minutes later,she was sitting in a fresh pair of pajamas on a clean bed while Ian sat behind her, brushing her hair.
The lightweight pajamas were new. A pale silver that she really liked with soft lace at the cuffs of the bottoms and the hem of the top.
The top was a shirt-style with buttons. They were sweet but also a bit sexy.
“I like these pajamas, Daddy,” she told him.
“Good. I’ll get you a pair in every color.”
She stiffened. “I don’t expect you to buy me things.”
He turned her around so she was facing him. Cupping her chin, he tilted her head back. “Let’s make something clear. Jack and I have some money. We’re not billionaires, but we’re comfortable. And all that money was accumulated to take care of our woman when we found her. That woman is you. We will use our money to do whatever we want to look after you. No arguments.”
She sighed but left it alone. “Where is Jack?” It wasn’t like him to leave her alone for long. Especially since she’d been rescued.
“He’s, uh, sleeping.”
“Good, he needs his sleep. I can tell he’s stressed.” He’d spent most of his time just staring at her.
“How are you feeling now, Little girl?”
“I’m a mess. And not just because of this.” She rubbed her temple. “Because of so many things.”
He ran a finger down her cheek. “Does any of that have anything to do with the patches of hair that you’re missing?”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh God, they’re obvious?”
“Only because I’ve done your hair a few times. Are you losing your hair? Is something . . . are you sick?”
Monkeyballs. He sounded so concerned that she knew she had to tell him.
“No. I’m not sick.” She sucked in a breath. “I, um. Sometimes . . . I get overwhelmed. It’s all too much, and I . . . I pull my hair out.”
The silence was too much.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” she blurted out.
