Protecting Priscilla

by Pepper North

  Chapter 2

  Priscilla sat in the front seat of the luxurious SUV. She tried to make herself as small as possible to avoid getting the pristine interior dirty. She knew she was a mess. When the handsome man slid into the seat next to her, she studied his face as she offered, “I could sit in the cargo area. I don’t want to mess up your seats.”

  He smiled at her. “I’m not worried about the seats. I am concerned about you. This path is a little bumpy. Can you fasten your seatbelt, or do you need some help?” He didn’t move toward her but let her answer.

  “I can do it,” Priscilla automatically replied. When she twisted to retrieve the seatbelt, pain from her injured ribs flared through her chest. Frozen by the pain, she panted as her body pressed against the soft seat.

  “Your injury is bad, sugar. No twisting for you. I’m going to lean across you and pull the belt over your lap. I’ll have to invade your space a little, but I promise you, no funny business. Okay?” He looked into her pain-filled eyes.

  When she nodded slightly, he reached over and snagged the buckle. Pulling the belt out and around her, Mitch tried to avoid putting pressure against those damaged ribs. Finally, with a click, the belt was secured across her thin chest. He tried not to notice the small, pert breasts pressing against her tattered t-shirt but had to smile when he saw the purple unicorn hidden by the grime on the dingy pink fabric.

  He reached into the console between the seats and removed a bottle of painkillers. “You need some relief from that pain. Here, take two of these,” he said, opening it and shaking out two white pills. “They’re just over-the-counter tablets.” He rotated the bottle for her to see the label as he gave her time to decide.

  Slowly, her shaking hand reached out to take the tablets. Her ribs hurt so bad. She popped the pills into her mouth and tried to swallow them dry. Choking slightly on the tablets, she squeezed the empty plastic bottle she had stashed between her thighs. Why didn’t I drink that slower? she berated herself.

  When a half-filled bottle was thrust into her hand, Priscilla reached for it, then drank deeply to wash the tablets down her throat. Sitting back against the seat, she gasped, “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Drink the rest of that,” the deep, masculine voice instructed as he started the car and began driving back to his home.

  The route was bumpy as they drove past fields of growing crops and grazing cattle. She could tell the large man driving tried to avoid the biggest jolts in the path. Still, the pain was bad. Priscilla closed her eyes and tried not to tense all her muscles. That just made it worse.

  Her mind flashed back to her last car ride. He’d been railing at her for days. Furious that his father had left half of his estate to Priscilla, he’d taken the will to three different high-powered lawyers, trying to break the legal document, but his father had been very thorough in detailing his wishes. Finally, it seemed her cousin, Mark, was acclimating to the decisions his father had made.

  After gifting her with lipstick and mascara, he’d taken Priscilla out for a burger and a shake to make amends. She hadn’t been out to eat since her parents had passed. Priscilla had been so distracted by the number of people in the diner that she missed any clues something was wrong. When her cousin suggested she look at some land he was thinking of buying as an investment with his half of the money, she had agreed instantly, trying to prolong her outing from the dark, dreary house. You idiot! Priscilla cursed herself for thinking he was offering her an olive branch.

  Unable to eat more than a few bites of her burger, she had been reluctant to leave the chocolaty goodness he called a shake. The waitress had poured it into a cup for her to take with them. Mark insisted she go to the bathroom before the long trip. He had even walked her to the door of the women’s restroom and waited outside for her, holding her shake when she was uneasy at being alone.

  Happily, she had finished her delicious shake as they drove out of town. It was only when she woke in the middle of the woods alone that she figured out he had put something in her shake while she was in the bathroom. Battered and filthy, it appeared he had tossed her out of his truck, not caring that she landed on her side on a fallen log. That had been a couple of days ago.

  Priscilla had been raised by her uncle following the death of her mother and father in a tragic collision on a local highway. Her uncle was a very stern, unaffectionate man who had provided her a safe home but little attention. His own son had been older and out working in the world when she had arrived. Mark had never visited his home.

  She opened her eyes and turned to study the man next to her. Mitch. Her mind had latched onto his name. He treated her as if she was important. Could she really trust him? This man oozed masculinity and self-assurance. He moved like a panther, pure muscled strength. His chiseled profile was rough but very handsome. Her eyes flitted to the hands gripping the wheel so securely. No ring.

  Drawn to him by a force she’d never felt before, Priscilla made a decision. She didn’t know what SANCTUM was, but if the community would allow her to stay until she figured out what to do, she would remain here. She needed help from someone. No, not from someone, from him.

  Chapter 3

  He parked the car in front of a large home that blended in with the surrounding trees. Mitch had designed his house to be comfortable and well… homey. He wasn’t a stuffy man. Every room was designed to be lived and loved in. Axing formal living and dining rooms, the ex-Ranger had added extra space to the family room, kitchen, and, of course, a nursery.

  “Stay there. I’ll come to help you out,” he firmly instructed, holding those big blue eyes with the intensity of his green stare. When she nodded, he slid out and walked around the SUV to her door. Despite his warning, Priscilla was struggling to reach the buckle for the seatbelt. Jerking the door open, he pressed her shoulders against the seatback.

  “Stop right there, Little girl. You’re hurting yourself. I should tan your bottom,” he pushed out softly through gritted teeth.

  Her eyes met his before dropping to her arm that now hugged her aching ribs. “I’m sorry. I thought I could unfasten it.” She panted slightly, trying to regain her breath as the pain began to ease. “The medicine helped. My side didn’t hurt so badly.”

  “No punishment this time, Little girl. Make sure there isn’t a second time,” he softly warned as he released the belt. Mitch reached in and scooped her from the front seat. Holding her easily in his muscled arms, he added, “Relax, I’m just going to carry you into the kitchen, so I can treat your ribs. I want to feed you a little more than two nutrient bars. Okay?”

  When she nodded and whispered, “Okay,” he continued into the house. Swiftly walking to the large wooden table, the large man sat Priscilla on the polished oak top.

  “Stay there. I’m going to grab some bandages. I want to wrap those ribs.” After she nodded, he walked swiftly through the house to grab his first aid kit and some extra elastic wrap he had used when he’d stressed a knee. Returning, he smiled at the small figure sitting exactly where he left her.

  “Thank you, sugar,” he simply said and turned to open the case after laying it on the table.

  When he looked away, she blurted out without thinking. “You know I’m Little, don’t you?” Immediately, her cheeks flamed with color, and she looked down at her dangling feet. Her shoulders hunched up around her ears as she tried to withdraw into herself. She’d never lived as a Little girl, but she knew she was one.

  Living in her uncle’s large, quiet mansion, Priscilla had quickly learned she was to be quiet and unobtrusive. Her uncle didn’t believe in public schooling, so a private tutor had come three times a week to teach her. She had loved the elderly, sweet woman. Mrs. Wolfe taught her to love books and even convinced her uncle to give her an electronic tablet and a monthly allowance at an online bookstore.

  Though always miserly with his money, her uncle had seen the benefit of having her occupied and quiet. He was not interested in taking her mother and father’s place. He pro
vided her a roof over her head, essential clothing items, and an amount of food he considered sufficient for a child. Priscilla had learned not to listen to her hunger.

  Books were her escape. She read all types of genres and loved them all. By chance, she ran across a book called Daddy Grant when she was on her quest to learn about all the U.S. presidents. It turned out not to be a book about Ulysses S. Grant but about a Little girl’s life with her caring Daddy. She had known immediately that she was Little as well.

  Mitch tipped her chin until his green eyes met hers solidly. There was no hint of judgment or amusement. He knew. “Yes. Just as I’m sure you already figured out that I am a Daddy, sugar. It’s written in our DNA. We’ll talk about it, but for now, I need to take care of you.” He held her eyes steadily until the tension in her shoulders relaxed, and she nodded slightly.

  He turned and grabbed a clean cloth from a drawer. Moving to the sink, he held it under a stream of water until it was warm. He wrung it out and returned to begin washing her face.

  Tears and dirt had caked on her cheeks. Mitch could tell she had been wearing a bit of makeup at some point, but most had been wiped away. “Who did this to you?” he quietly asked as he wiped her neck clean before starting cautiously on one arm.

  “Matt, my cousin. The bastard!” she cursed as she moved in agitation.

  His large hands anchored her in place. He held her still until she stopped squirming. When she looked at him in surprise, he promised, “We’ll deal with Matt later. Right now, we need to concentrate on you. I need to see your ribs.”

  When she nodded, he began to raise the hem of her shirt over her head. Pulling it carefully to her chest, Mitch eased her left arm out before pulling it over her head and sliding it the rest of the way off her right arm. He tried to focus on the bruised flesh in front of him and ignore the small, sweet mounds covered by her plain white bra. Somehow the plain cotton bra was more entrancing than the frothy, delicate lace garments other women chose to wear.

  She sat in front of him without a sound. Embarrassed, her face flushed slightly as she felt his eyes roam over her body. The feel of his fingers so tender against her bruised skin made her yearn for his caresses. Priscilla shook her head to scatter those thoughts from her mind. He was just helping her. He wouldn’t be interested in her. Would he? She forced herself to focus on his words.

  “Sugar, there’s no doubt these are broken. I’ll need to wrap them to help them heal. I don’t want to do that until you’re clean so we can leave the area alone for a while,” he gently said. He didn’t know how long she had been wandering around, but she’d been at the back gate for a couple of days. There had to be a reason she didn’t approach someone for help. Mitch had a feeling he wouldn’t like hearing what had kept her hiding while hurt, hungry, and alone.

  Shaking away the negative thoughts, the large man decided to focus on caring for Priscilla now. He’d address everything else when she was in better shape. “We need to get you into the shower or the bathtub. First…”

  Mitch walked over and opened a cabinet. He pulled out a flowered pink cup with an attached top. Opening the pantry, he pulled out a bottle of a rehydrating sports drink. He filled the cup with the lemon-lime mixture and dropped in a few ice cubes. After snapping on the lid, he held it out to Priscilla. “Drink, sugar. We need to get some fluids into your body.”

  He watched her hesitantly take a sip of the mixture. Lowering the cup, she licked her lips before raising the cup again and drinking deeply. Mitch nodded his encouragement at her when she looked at him for reassurance that she should drink it all. “Drink all you can, sugar. I know you’re thirsty.” He smiled as she lifted the cup and drained the rest in one long drink.

  Without a word, the concerned man simply refilled the cup and returned it to her. “Sugar, let’s get you clean.” He picked her up from the table and carried her through his spacious bedroom tastefully decorated in blues and grays to his large master bath. Standing her on a rug in the middle of the room, Mitch turned to the large tub and twisted the taps to start the warm water flowing.

  Chapter 4

  Nervously, Priscilla took a small drink from the cup in her hands. The mixture inside was sweet and lemony. It tasted so good. She focused on it for a minute when her mind started to panic. She watched him pour some crystals from a sparkling jar. As they hit the water, the smell of lavender began to fill the air.

  The fingers of her free hand twisted in the worn fabric of her pants. She didn’t know this man. It was one thing to allow him to see her ribs when her breasts were covered by her bra. She had never been naked in front of anyone since she had been a young child. All her insecurities came flooding back. She began shaking slightly.

  “Priscilla, breathe, sugar. You’re fine. I’m going to help you take off your shoes and pants. Pretend you’re at the beach wearing your bikini. Then, I’ll leave and let you carefully get into the tub. Okay?”

  To distract Priscilla as he helped her finish undressing, the large man asked, “Sugar, why did you hide from the cameras? You could have just asked for help.” Mitch schooled his features to conceal his anger at the scratches and bruising caused by her abandonment in the deserted wooded area as he stripped off her tattered pants.

  “Oh, I couldn’t do that. I didn’t know who lived here. I was just hoping to find something to drink and eat before I kept walking. My uncle drilled into me that it wasn’t safe to talk to strangers. I’ve never talked to anyone except Mrs. Wolfe, Mark, and my uncle and the staff,” Priscilla said as she shook her head emphatically.

  “You’re talking to me now.” He gently smiled at her as he helped her step out of her pants.

  “You’re not a stranger,” she said simply. Her face blushed a rosy shade as she stood in only her bra and panties in front of him. “I know it seems weird. I’m twenty-four years old. I know I should have left my uncle’s house, but I didn’t know where to even start to look for a place to stay and somewhere to work. I’ve never been off the grounds after my parents’ accident.”

  Mentally thrashing the controlling old man who had hidden this young woman from the world, he worked to conceal his anger. “I’m glad you’re here, sugar. We’ll let other people decide whether it’s weird. We don’t have to worry about their opinion. This is SANCTUM. Everyone is safe.”

  He turned her around and unfastened the back of her bra, knowing she couldn’t reach behind her back with her right arm. Unable to control himself, he leaned in to kiss the side of her grimy neck. “I’m glad you’re here, sugar. Now, can you take the rest of your clothes off and get into the tub?” He took the plastic cup of the electrolyte mixture and set it on the edge of the tub. He turned off the warm water and double-checked that it was warm but not too hot as he kept an eye on the grimy Little girl.

  Priscilla held her bra to her body as she turned slowly around. Her toes curled into the thick rug lying in front of the large tub. Keeping her eyes glued on the floor, she whispered, “Could you help me take off the rest of my clothes and get in the bathtub? Maybe you could just keep your eyes closed?”

  “I think I could do that, Priscilla. Let’s get you undressed and in the bath.” He made a big production of closing his eyes before wrinkling his nose. “I’m not going to have trouble finding you, sugar.”

  “Mitch! That’s mean. I don’t smell that bad, do I?” she protested, not even noticing that he had stripped off her bra due to her concern about smelling poorly. She sniffed her shoulder cautiously and wrinkled her nose.

  “I do smell bad,” she whispered as her face flamed red once again. She was distracted from her embarrassment as he continued to move to undress her. She shivered in reaction to his fingers sliding down her ribs lightly to avoid hurting her as he felt for the waistband of her cotton panties. His fingers were warm against her flesh as if he was heated by an internal furnace.

  “Soon, sugar, you will smell sweet like all sweet Little girls should,” Mitch reassured her as he pushed her panties over her too-th
in hips to the floor. Sweeping a callused hand down the back of her leg, he looped those small cotton panties off one leg and then the other.

  Holding on to her waist, he instructed, “Step into the tub, sugar. I’m just going to hold on to make sure you don’t slip.” He steadied her as she raised each leg over the rim of the tub. “Sit down when you’re ready. Is the water too hot?” he asked cautiously.

  His hands remained around her waist as she carefully lowered herself into the fragrant warm liquid. “Ahhh! It feels wonderful!” His hands slipped from her waist, and she sighed as she leaned back against the side of the tub for a moment, missing his touch already.

  Chapter 5

  The temptation to open his eyes was difficult to resist, but he had promised her. Mitch forced himself to turn around before allowing his eyelids to lift. “Sugar, there is a washcloth, soap, and shampoo next to the wall on the side of the tub. I’ll let you enjoy soaking and drinking your juice. I need to get you rehydrated. If you need help washing your hair or getting clean, just give me a little shout. I’ll come in to help.”

  He heard a splash of water as she moved in the tub. There was a moment of silence before she said, “Mitch, I don’t think I can get all this dirt off.” After another pause, “Would you help me?”

  “I’ll have to open my eyes, sugar,” he warned her as a smile spread across his face. He liked the feeling that she needed him. He liked it a lot.

  “That’s okay,” she whispered.

  Mitch schooled his face and turned around slowly, giving her time to change her mind. His eyes feasted on the sight of this Little girl sitting in the tub. She was entrancing as she sat in the steamy water with the washcloth held over her small, high breasts. She smiled tremulously at him, but her face revealed the pain that she was feeling.