Mark swung her around in his arms to show the rest of the wood panelled room flanked by two large windows on each side with padded window seats. Next to the bed there was an old-fashioned doll’s crib with a trailing white canopy above the top end. Inside there was a baby doll. To accompany it, a Victorian doll’s pram stood next to it.
On the other side of the bed, a graceful rocking horse stood with a large, eighteenth century dolls house.
“It’s amazing,” she gushed. “Just what I dreamt of having when I was a little girl,” she confessed finding something new to take in every time she swept her eyes around the room.
“I knew this would please you.”
“It is like you read my mind.” She laughed realising the ramifications of what she had said.
“Or,” he spoke softly, “I always knew you were coming. This room was created last year for the right woman and eventually my child.”
She stared up at him in awe. Fate was bringing them together and had always planned to, even though they had been so resistant to the idea at first. They had been waiting for each other. He smiled down at her with love before settling her into a rocking chair near one of the windows.
“Now before I set you loose in here to play, I want to get you dressed so you can sink into this fantasy a little easier,” he said with a smile approaching an armoire. Helena watched him pull out a dress on a hanger. It was short and the perfect size for an adult woman, but its design was one for a little girl. The garment had clearly been created especially for this purpose and must have cost a fortune. He held it up to her.
“You want me to wear it?” she asked, her eyes wide with surprise. There was nothing she wanted more. He nodded and took her hand to pull her up. The towel dropped to the floor leaving her standing in nothing but the diaper. She frowned feeling her cheeks warm.
“Can’t I take this off?” She made sure she asked him in her sweetest little girl voice.
But he just laughed and shook his head.
“However, adorable you are I am not going to fall for that,” he said wagging his finger at her. “The diaper stays, baby girl. Now let me dress you.”
Lord Fox put the dress over Helena’s head having no doubts it would fit her perfectly and he was pleased when he was discovered right in his assertion. He pulled the zip up at the back and tied the sash at the back. He led her across the creaking wooden floor to a full-length mirror on the back of the armoire door, next to the dressing table in the corner, so she could get a better look at the dress.
The dress made Helena feel like a princess. It was a pale-gold jacquard, little girl’s formal dress, with a Peter Pan collar embellished with small pearls. It bore rose applique at the front, a fitted bodice and a full flared skirt under which were layers of stiff tulle petticoats of a longer length. The sleeves of the dress were capped, and it also fastened with sash ties and a jewel brooch at the front.
“Do like it?”
“I love it, Daddy. Thank you,” she answered with warmth in her cheeks that increased when she could see he was thrilled.
“Good girl. Come on, I will finish your outfit off.”
Daddy helped her put on her white tights and then lifted her up onto the bed to put soft, gold ballet shoes with a strap onto her feet while she annoyed Daddy by moving them back and forth.
“Now for your hair.”
Mark picked Helena up by her waist from the bed. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist and took the opportunity to rest her head on his shoulder to communicate her love for the bliss he was creating around her. The tightening of his hold on her body indicated he had received her secret communication.
Helena was sat down on an antique wooden chair in front of a matching dressing table on which had been laid a solid silver brush, comb and mirror facedown. Mark stood behind her and with expertise brushed her hair and pulled it up to tie it in a neat bun on top of her head. Out of one of the dressing table drawers he pulled out a large, pale-gold bow with a jewelled centre, clearly meant to go with the dress and fixed it around the bun at the front. Helena looked at herself in the mirror seeing herself regress back to childhood. She hadn’t worn her hair that way since she was a young girl. It made her smile but that was to quickly fade when Lord Fox announced he was going to clean her face of make-up.
“No, Daddy, I don’t want you to. I won’t look pretty for you,” her small child-like voice came easily and wasn’t put on, neither was it whining or false.
“Nonsense, my little princess. Little girls don’t wear make-up. They don’t need it to look pretty. They just are,” he told her matter-of-factly squeezing some cleanser on to a cotton face pad, getting on his haunches at her side to apply it briskly to her face before she could complain anymore. “Anyway, we need to take off that mascara that ran when Daddy had to discipline you, don’t we?”
Helena nodded and glumly prepared to look at her face minus make-up in the mirror in front of him.
“There we go, nice and fresh. Beautiful. Come with me and I will let you do some colouring in. Would you like that, princess?”
“Yes. I really would.”
Mark led her to a small table not far from the fireplace and sat her down on one of the small children’s chairs around it. “Here are some pencils. I will get you some colouring in books. Do you like fairies, little one?”
“Yes, Daddy. I love them.”
Daddy placed a colouring in book full of fairies in different positions, flying, sitting on toadstools and granting wishes, for her to colour using the new pencils of every shade imaginable already placed on the table as though they and everything else in the room had been patiently awaiting her arrival. She got to work sinking deeply into her role presided over by Mark’s watchful fatherly eye.
After indulging her by colouring in with her, Mark announced he was leaving the room.
“I am just going to get dressed and order you some food, little one. Will you be a good girl for Daddy and stay here?”
“Yes, Daddy. Can the dolly sit with me and play?”
Mark grinned.
“Yes, she can. I am sure she will like that very much.”
He took the Victorian doll from the bed and deposited her into Helena’s eager waiting hands. She was enthralled with its beauty, ringlets and pretty clothes. She hugged her close.
“Are you going to give her a name?” Mark asked bending to stroke her cheek.
“Clara,” she said instantly. She’d always loved that name, that was what she was going to call her own child. She stopped and stared at the pram and crib. A sob welled up inside her and she had to fight hard to swallow it. She couldn’t think about her loss now and she didn’t want Mark picking it up from her mind. She smiled up at him trying to disarm his thoughts, but she could see confusion swirling in his eyes. He had definitely sensed something, but she knew he hadn’t yet discovered what it was. She immediately put up her psychic guards, properly grounding herself and kept him out. She didn’t want him finding out. It was something she didn’t want to relive again.
“Are you all right, princess? Are you feeling unwell?”
“No. I am okay. Just getting hungry.” She cleverly tried to throw him off the scent. She could feel he wasn’t convinced but he was going to let it go for now.
“Ok, babygirl. I will get dressed and bring your food up. Enjoy colouring in with Clara.”
She nodded and giggled putting Clara in the chair next to her.
“Here are your pencils, Clara and you can use this book,” she said playing the role to perfection.
Content, Mark gave her a quick kiss and left the room.
Chapter 9
Mark returned a short while later dressed in another suit to see if his little princess was still happy and content. He was pleased with her progress. She was assuming her role with ease and had been enjoying it. That was until he had detected a shimmer of a thought from her past that she had deliberately kept hidden from him. The room had genuinely delighted his little
one, but something had triggered a thought filled with heavy sorrow. He wanted to know what it was so he could remove it. They couldn’t afford for her mind to be filled with pain and negativity; it would allow Rann to enter at will. He could already sense him hovering around the barriers she’d put in place whispering things to her. Mark couldn’t make them out, but he had a feeling it was him reminding her of a hurtful time in her past. Helena was close to the breaking point with the stress of using her mind to find the terrorist cell and Rann’s constant attempts to attack her. Mark wanted her safe and rested before he would allow her to take him on again.
It had started just after she’d named the doll. Clara, she called it. He had been too busy being enchanted at the way she cuddled the doll to see what she had been looking at when the thought had occurred. Whatever it was she definitely didn’t want him knowing about it and this made him all the more determined to find out what it was all about. It wasn’t just his job as her Protection Officer to know, but as her daddy, if anything troubled Helena he wanted to be able to take it on and banish it from her forever. He was falling fast and hard for her and try as he might there was nothing he could do about it. She was everything he had craved in a woman for so long.
He reached the top step and stood outside the door with her tray of food and baby bottle. He took a deep breath shaken by his assertion of love for her. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to feel love for another person let alone a woman. He hadn’t been able to acknowledge strong feelings for anyone after his sister’s murder and his father’s suicide, which followed not long after. Mark closed his eyes remembering how his father had hung himself in his room in the East Wing of the house and how he had found him, just like his sister. Mark and his mother had locked the door to that room, and no one was allowed to enter. He’d hardened that day and kept everyone at a distance, too afraid to love anyone in case they decided he wasn’t worth sticking around for. Until today. Until Helena. He prayed he didn’t lose her. He seemed to have that effect on people.
Mark opened the door and directed his eyes towards the small table. But Helena was no longer there. He scanned the room and spied her lying on top of the bed holding her dolly close, asleep. He put the tray down on top of the table and took the opportunity to look around the room to find the offending toy that had created the thought to see if it would give him any clues. The doll’s house had been played with. While he was away, she had clearly explored the room and all it had to offer. A teddy bear was sitting on a chair around the table. The only things that hadn’t been moved at all were the pram and doll’s crib. She hadn’t been anywhere near them. His mind started to race with thoughts and possibilities but until he extracted the truth from Helena none of them would be right.
Mark leaned over Helena and trailed the back of his fingers over the side of her pale face.
“Helena, I need you to wake up now. It is time to eat,” he softly urged.
Slowly, her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him. They were glassy and a little red. She had been crying.
He sat on the side of the bed next to her running his fingers up and down her arm in a natural soothing motion.
“What’s wrong?” he enquired. “Is your arm hurting you again? Do you feel unwell? I can give you some more painkillers.”
He knew it was neither of those things, but he had to start somewhere. She wasn’t going to bite and resorted to lying to him to keep her secret safe.
“My arm is just hurting a bit again and I feel tired.”
“You look as if you have been crying. What have you cried about, little one? Tell, Daddy. You will feel much better if you do.”
Fear briefly pinched her beautiful haunted green eyes, but it faded quickly when she turned her full attention to keeping his probing mind out of her thoughts. She said nothing. Her defences were as strong as his own.
“There’s nothing to tell. Please, leave it alone, Mark,” she told him firmly breaking role for a moment.
He nodded making a mental note to try again later.
Mark considered moving the crib and pram out of the room, but it wasn’t a good idea. She would know he was on to her and probing for more information. He had to catch her off guard.
He helped her up off the bed and led her by the hand to the table where he had left the tray. He noticed she brought the doll with her and sat Clara on the chair next to her smoothing out the doll’s pretty dress as she did. Mark watched her stare down at the contents of the tray with a frown tightening her pretty features. She appeared as though she was about to break role again.
“What is this?” she asked pointing at the organic baby food he’d had warmed in a Disney Princess bowl.”
“That is your food. I am going to help you eat.”
“I’m not hungry. I told you.”
“And I am telling you, princess, you are going to eat this. You are wasting away, and you haven’t had anything since you were in the hospital last night and then that was only half a cheese sandwich. That had to be force fed to you as well. This not eating has to stop. You are becoming ill from it, Helena. I won’t take no for an answer or I will force feed you.” He heard his voice rise in desperation and fought hard to control it.
“No. I don’t want to eat.”
“Then I guess you want another spanking over my knee, little one,” he said with firmness annoyed at her petulance. She narrowed her eyes at him and protested no more. Convinced the message had finally hit home, Mark reached for the bib and slipped it around her neck. Helena would not meet his eyes, and he could feel her annoyance and unrest still hanging in her mind. He persisted, remembering the doctor’s advice before they’d left the hospital to try everything to get her to eat. She hadn’t been enjoying food for a while, even before they had been brought together and she was on the verge of becoming malnourished if action wasn’t taken.
“It’s roast dinner.” He smiled.
“Mashed up.”
“Well, if you won’t eat like a good girl, then this is what we have to do.”
Her eyes narrowed in to sharp points again and he didn’t believe she was going to open her mouth when he brought the spoon to her lips.
“Open wide, darling. Remember what I said I would do if you won’t,” he warned in a fatherly voice.
Helena opened her mouth and allowed him to deposit the food inside her mouth. Just like a child, she twisted her mouth.
“I don’t like it,” she pouted.
“That’s too bad. You are going to eat all of it. It is good for you. I want every mouthful eaten or you will be over my knee. Do I make myself clear, little one?”
A pause.
“Yes, Daddy.”
He could see it was an effort for her to eat and swallow with the anxiety that had been preoccupying her mind, so he took his time, exercising patience and adopting a gentle attitude with her, pleased she was finally taking his direction.
Mark scraped the bowl and made sure she swallowed the last of the food. Putting the bowl back on the tray he reached for the bottle of special milk with vitamins and minerals that was used to help those suffering from illness, recover.
“I don’t want to be fed that bottle,” Helena said quickly with one of her pouts.
“Clearly you want to be spanked again,” he said sighing and shaking his head while he shook the bottle.
“No. No, Daddy. I am still sore from the last time.”
“Then you will be a good girl and do as Daddy tells you.”
She nodded. He stood up and took hold of her arm.
“Come with me, little one.”
“Can’t I just feed, myself?” Her adult tone was breaking in again and pleading with him. He ignored it.
“No, you can’t. I will feed you.”
Mark sat down on the rocking chair and pulled Helena onto his lap by her arm. He cradled her in his arms and felt her relax.
“Open wide and take your bottle, little princess.”
Helena stared at h
im tight-lipped prompting him to give her a warning look and tap her bottom through the dress. She jumped and quickly parted her lips, allowing him to push the teat between her lips and into her mouth. She suckled slowly at first and then got into a rhythm when he tipped the bottle higher and rocked back and forth in the chair. She was sleepy again, resting her head against his shoulder when she finished the last drop of milk. He put the bottle down and enjoyed the moment, rocking her back and forth while he stroked his fingers down her bare arm. The firmer and more dominant he became with her, the more she trusted him. However, still not enough to confess exactly why the pram and crib were bothering her. About ten minutes later, she pressed her small hand against his dark grey suit jacket and asked him the question he had been waiting for her to ask.
“Daddy, does this room have a bathroom attached to it? I need to go.”
This was the next stage and he wasn’t sure how she was going to take it. At least she would be too preoccupied dealing with her feelings and breaking down her fantasy barriers to think about Rann or let him in.
“If you need to pee, little one then you must do so in your diaper.”
Helena’s eyes widened.
“Why can’t I go to the bathroom?”
“Bathrooms are for big girls. I will let you use a potty tomorrow, if you are a good girl.”
She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it. To his surprise she nodded even though he could see apprehension and fear settle in her eyes.
Protecting Helena Page 8