Page 6 of Your Daddy Does It Better
I place my hands gently on her shoulders, hoping to snap her out of fear. “Breathe, Isla. Breathe. I promise it will be okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”
“You can’t be with me all the time. I’ll have to go home eventually. Back to him.”
“The hell you are. You’re not going anywhere.”
Her dark eyes round with visible fear. I drop my hands and step back so I don’t frighten her more than she already is. Having a six-foot-seven, three-hundred-and-thirty-pound man hovering over you has to be intimidating. If I could make myself tiny for her comfort, I would.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you a prisoner. You can leave. But you can’t go back to him.”
“I need my things,” she whispers.
“I’ll put your name on my credit cards. Anything you want, order it online.”
She jumps up and glares at me.” I’m not a hooker. I can’t be bought.” She drops her arms to her sides, and her small hands clench into fists. She’s adorable, a cute kitten trying to be a tiger. “I’m not going to jump from his bed to yours.”
We glare at each other. Stalemate.
I want to be the nice guy, but I also like the fire in her eyes. “Tiger, when you find yourself in my bed, it will be because you’re begging for it, not because I bought you some outfits. It might shock you, sweetheart, but I don’t need to buy women. I have no issues in that area.”
Her eyes glide down my body as if assessing my statement. I open my arms, allowing her to get a good look at my chest, the taunt of the large muscles rippling on my body. I’m not as young as her, but I’m not too shabby on the eyes. She visibly swallows before opening her mouth to speak and closing it just as quickly.
“I think maybe we should eat to keep that smart mouth busy.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’ll eat, Isla.”
“You’re just like Paul, telling me what to do.”
I stride toward her, an animal stalking his timid prey. I have to be careful because one wrong move and she’ll sprint out the door. My fingers brush her skin as I grip her chin gently, ensuring she sees the truth in my eyes, that I won’t harm her. “I’m nothing like him. I’m telling you to eat because I want to take care of you, not control you.”
Her eyes move from me to the corridor leading to the dining room. “I don’t know what to do.”
I grasp her hand and weave our fingers together. “I do. You just need to trust me.”
ChapterFive
ISLA
We sit in silence across from each other at the rich maple table. I gaze around the room, decorated in warm mahoganies and russet oranges. A little odd for a park avenue apartment but a pleasant contrast to the overflow of white at Paul’s place.
The furniture suits Bryce. It’s solid and robust, like him. He’s also gentle and kind, with an underlying air of authority and control. He’s everything I’d hoped Paul was when we first met.
Bryce watches me as I move my food mindlessly on my plate. I haven’t taken a bite of my food, even though it smells divine—beef tenderloin with some sort of sauce, button mushrooms, garlic mashed potatoes, and maple-glazed Brussels sprouts.
“Greta will be disappointed you didn’t try her steak,” Bryce says as he places a piece of medium-rare beef between his lips. Can a man’s mouth be described as beautiful? This man’s is.
“I’m not hungry.”
The corners of Bryce’s lips turn up to reveal charming dimples. He places his fork on the bone china plate, and his dark eyes focus intently on me. I swear they penetrate my flesh to the very core of my soul. “You’re a stunning woman, Isla. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. That being said, I’m not blind. My son hasn’t taken care of you, which is a shame because I’ve always instilled in him the value of caring for our most precious belongings.”
“I’m not a possession.”
“We’re all possessions, Isla. Some don’t realize it, some deny it, some hide it, while others succumb to it. Belonging to someone isn’t a bad thing if the owner knows your worth. Understands how to take care of you, brightens you and makes you sparkle. If my son was a real man, he would’ve put you on a pedestal, not had you collecting dust in a dark corner.”
“Paul beat me. No sense in sugarcoating it.”
“I don’t sugarcoat anything, Isla. He didn’t just bruise your skin or fracture your bones. He launched a full-fledged assault. He wanted to break more than your body. He wanted to crush your identity.”
