The Hottest Daddy

by Michelle Love

  Berry smiled in delight, burying her face in Sunday’s neck. Sunday held her tightly. River watched them, a smile on his face. “Family,” was all he said and she nodded.

  River told her that Angelina would be coming by later to see Berry. Sunday nodded. “Well, I’ll be there. I’m not hiding anymore. Fuck that.”

  River didn’t look happy but he had to agree. “I’m arranging security around this place and, please, honey, until he’s caught, don’t go out on your own.”

  She told him what Sam said and he nodded. “Yeah, I wondered about that kid. You think it might be him?”

  “That’s the thing. I don’t. I mean, he said he recognized me the other day, asked me if I had ever been on TV. He seems so guileless and Daisy likes him a lot. I hope, hope, hope it’s nothing.”

  River nodded. “Maybe … no.”

  “What?”

  “We could ask Aria to keep an eye on him. For Daisy’s sake, she’d do it, I’m sure.”

  Sunday was skeptical. “It’s just … can we trust her? She’s not exactly the biggest fan of either of us.”

  “To protect Daisy, yes, she would. Say what you like about Aria and her prima donna ways, but she adores Daisy.”

  Sunday nodded. “Okay.”

  River stroked her hair. “Are you ready to face Angelina?”

  Sunday smiled back at him. “I’ll try not to rip the bitch’s face off, if that’s what you mean.”

  “I love your fire.” He hesitated for a moment. “Say, no biggie, but did you …”

  “I haven’t gotten to that part of your father’s diaries yet,” she told him gently, and he shrugged sheepishly.

  “I shouldn’t even ask with everything that’s going on. It just would help when dealing with her.”

  “Is she still being … whatever it is she thinks she’s doing?”

  “Not so much with the fiancé around, but when he steps out … yeah. She made it clear I could make this all go away if I were to … ugh. I can’t even say the words.”

  Sunday put her arms around his neck. “Listen … while we’re dealing with her, let’s give her a taste of her own medicine. I’ll make myself known, if she doesn’t recognize me this time, and I’ll tell her I’m here on a deep cover assignment. A historical case … a story about the sexual abuse of a child of a rich man … and the outing of an abuser. It won’t be true … but it’ll give her pause.” She shook her head. “Every time I think about it, I want to kill her, and to think she had the nerve to want to be in Berry’s life …”

  “Hey, hey, breathe,” River said, then chuckled. “I guess we both could kill for the other.”

  Sunday nodded. “I would die for you, River. And Berry.”

  River took a deep breath in. “I feel the same but neither of us is dying for anyone. This is our family now, and there’s nothing I won’t do to protect it. Nothing.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  They decide to give Angelina a little shock. Sunday would wait until Angelina was settled, talking to Berry and River before making herself known. “I cannot wait to see the look on that bitch’s face.”

  River chuckled. “I love the mischief in you.”

  Sunday grinned at him. “Stop looking at me like that, or we’ll be still fucking when they get here.”

  “Now I have a semi.”

  “Bat it down, player.”

  Sunday marveled at their ability to joke around in the face of what was about to happen, but she had learned that it was their way. Losing your ability to see color and you’re an artist? Joke about it. Facing your abuser? Kid around. Stalked by a maniac? Act like you don’t give a rat’s ass.

  But it was in their hands clasping, the touching of their bodies, the meeting of their gazes that everything was said. You are mine, and I will die to protect you. Sunday saw that in River’s eyes now and hoped he could see it in hers.

  Carmen came to find them. “Vampira’s here.”

  Sunday snorted and she felt River relax slightly. “Who’s Vampira?” Berry came into the room, and Carmel made a face.

  “Vampira is Carmen’s pet name for Angelina,” River picked his daughter up. “Because she’s not a nice person.”

  Sunday was surprised at River’s honesty. “But you shouldn’t tell Angelina that Carmen calls her that,” she said hurriedly.

  Berry shrugged. “Okay.”

  Sunday went to wait out of sight while Carmen took Berry back to her bedroom. The first time she heard Angelina’s voice, she felt white-hot rage. How dare this woman keep intruding on River’s life like this, after what she had done? She heard the voice of Brian Scanlan, greeting River politely. Who was this dude?

  She waited until they sat, and then she heard River speak. “So, after our last discussion, I should let you know things have changed. I will be applying for full custody of Berry, and I will ask the judge to issue a lifelong restraining order against you. You will never see her again.”

  There was a stunned silence. “This is not what we discussed.”

  “No, but it’s what I’ve decided, Angelina. There is no way I will let a pedophile have access to my child. Are you crazy?”

  Unseen, Sunday made a victory salute with her hand. Go get her, baby. She heard Scanlan clear his throat. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what he’s talking about, Angelina.”

  I’m on. “What he’s talking about, Mr. Scanlan,” she said, coming into the room, “is that your fiancée, Ms. Marshall here, abused and raped River from when he was fifteen years old until he was eighteen. She not only sexually abused him, but verbally and emotionally made his life hell.” She looked at Angelina, who was staring at her in hatred. “Hello, Angelina, how absolutely horrific to see you again.”

  Angelina’s lip curled. “My God … Marley Locke.” She didn’t seem surprised.

  Brian Scanlan blinked. “I’m sorry, who is this woman?”

  “My name now is Sunday Kemp, Mr. Scanlan, but before I was Marley Locke, a journalist and news anchor in New York. And Ms. Marshall and I have history. I’ve been working deep cover to get Mr. Giotto’s story about you, Angelina, and believe me, the evidence is incontrovertible. We have written testimony from his father and some of the staff Ludo employed and we’ll be handing it over to the authorities.”

  She squeezed River’s shoulder, hoping he would know she was making this up. “You’re finished, Angelina,” she said, her voice like steel. “We’ve already handed the evidence over to the police. I expect you’ll be arrested when you return to New York.”

  “You bitch,” Angelina was shaking, clearly rattled. “You think you coming here, spreading your legs for my son …”

  “Not your son. Not ever your son.” River stood now, his height imposing. Even Scanlan couldn’t match it. River’s rage was white-hot as he stepped towards Angelina, who skittered to her feet and backed off. “You raped me … you really think I would ever, ever let you near my child? And don’t paint yourself as a victim, although I know that’s your favorite position. Our Lady of Perpetual Victimhood. You’re scum, Angelina.” He looked at Scanlan. “I don’t know your deal but run. Get out. Get away from her. She will suck the life out of you.”

  “Angelina, I think we should go.” Scanlan gripped Angelina’s arm, but she ripped it away and lunged for Sunday. Sunday was ready for the attack and deftly side-stepped Angelina, kicking out the back of her knee and sending her sprawling on the floor.

  Angelina scrambled to her feet and tried again but Sunday, who was ready for a fight, waved her on. “Bring it, bitch. River can’t hit a woman but I sure as hell can. Give me the pleasure, Angelina.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Ms. Kemp.” Scanlan seemed rattled. He hoisted Angelina to her feet and nodded at River. “Forgive me, Mr. Giotto. I had no idea.”

  Angelina made a disgusted noise but Scanlan practically dragged her from the house. Angelina was still screaming as Scanlan pushed her into the car. Sunday and River watched them drive away and then looked at each other.

>   “Did that just happen?” River said incredulously and Sunday busted out laughing.

  “It sure did, cowboy. You nailed her.”

  “You nailed her. God, that was so hot.”

  Sunday kissed him. “Come show me how hot.”

  “Ahem,” said Carmen, a grin on her face, returning with Berry. “Children present.”

  She looked at River, who swept his daughter up into his arms. Berry kissed his cheek. Carmen put her hand on his arm. “You all right?”

  “I am,” he said. “I told her. I fought her. I feel … better.”

  Carmen and Sunday both grinned at him. Sunday had tears in her eyes. “Never been prouder.”

  “Why don’t I make us all some lunch? Any preference?” Carmen asked, the grin on her face showing she knew what they would all say.

  “Pizza.”

  “Pizza!”

  Carmen chuckled. “Come on then.”

  River took Sunday’s hand as they followed Carmen back to the kitchen. “Thank you, baby, for being there for me.”

  Sunday smiled up at him, her eyes full of love. “Any time, gorgeous man. Any time.”

  Angelina didn’t stop screaming at him the whole drive away from River Giotto’s place and finally, sick of her shrill voice, Scanlan cold-cocked her with a punch to the temple. Her head made a satisfying crack as it bounced off the side window and finally, she was silent.

  Scanlan sighed with relief. He wanted to think about Marley, about how she hadn’t a clue who he was, what he was to her life. How beautiful she looked. Her hair, back to its natural chocolate brown, her big dark eyes, that full, pink mouth …

  He was surprised she hadn’t looked more scared, that she had been so open about who she really was. If she had come here to start a new life … well … clearly, she was sleeping with River Giotto. No matter. Let her think she was happy.

  Scanlan drove out into the mountains and parked at an overlook. He stared out at the snow-covered ground. What now? Angelina hadn’t told him about her abuse of Giotto and he marveled at her stupidity in trying to go up against him. So, he had lost his ‘in’ with them … or had he? He looked at the unconscious woman in the seat next to him. Angelina knew his secret … but if he ended up dead now, he would be the first to be arrested. That didn’t mean he couldn’t threaten her if she attempted to break her silence … He would have to tread carefully.

  All he cared about was getting Marley—Sunday—into his life and away from Giotto. Maybe if he promised Angelina she would get River back when he took Sunday away … of course, he would never let that happen. He would kill Giotto, frame Angelina, and leave her to the consequences while he began his life properly with the woman he loved.

  He wasn’t stupid enough to believe Sunday would fall for him straight away—she would be too busy grieving for her dead Italian bastard—but slowly, she would realize his death meant she would finally be where she belonged.

  Scanlan had abandoned his first plan of taking her to his upstate New York compound. No. He would have to take her out of the country, somewhere the FBI couldn’t find them. He bought an island, a tiny, private place in the Leeward islands. Somewhere she had no chance of escaping him.

  Somewhere, if it came to it, her murder would go unnoticed, her body undiscovered.

  Angelina gave a groan and he waited until she opened her eyes and focused on him before he smiled at her. “Wakey, wakey, Angelina. I have some good news for you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sunday ran her hands down River’s body as they showered together the next morning. He grinned down at her, water dripping from his dark curls, water droplets in his long, thick eyelashes. Sunday kissed him. “I love you.” Her words were simple, but she meant them with her whole heart.

  It was strange. Despite the threat to her safety, there was a peace in her heart with this man. She truly belonged here, with him, and nothing was going to break that.

  River drew her close. “Listen … we talked about going away. Why don’t we just go? Before Berry starts school again, before the summer and everyone is taking their vacation?”

  She leaned into his solid, muscular body. “Let’s do it.”

  “Italy?”

  She loved the hope and the excitement in his eyes.

  “I would love that, so much, baby. I want to see where you call home.”

  So, after a few days of organization, the three of them flew to Italy. River’s villa was just outside Siena and they drove through the hills, Berry exclaimed excitedly at the lines of cypress trees and the secluded, rustic villas. River drove up a small hill to his own villa and as he glanced at Sunday to see her reaction, he saw that her eyes were full of tears. She smiled back at him. “It’s so beautiful, darling.”

  He followed Sunday and Berry as they explored the villa, its white painted rooms, cool tiled floors, and comfortable furniture. “I have someone who does the housekeeping for me, and a gardener, but I love to come here and just be alone. Now I have a family to bring here.” He smiled at Sunday and went to open the shutters on the windows of the main room, a large open- plan living space which opened out on one side onto a veranda overlooking the valley.

  Berry exclaimed with excitement at the sight of the pool. “Hey, shall we all get changed and take a dip? I could do with a cooldown,” River asked his daughter, who nodded eagerly. He raised his eyebrows at Sunday, who grinned.

  “Let’s do it.”

  River and Berry beat Sunday out to the pool and when she finally emerged, she saw the admiration in River’s eyes as she walked down to the pool, her already caramel skin glowing in the white bikini.

  “Wow,” River said, and Sunday grinned at his obvious lust. She stepped into the water and swam over to him. Berry was sitting in an inflatable ring, singing to herself, and Sunday snickered mischievously as she surreptitiously cupped River’s cock through his swim shorts.

  He groaned as his cock reacted immediately and Sunday swam away from him, giggling. “You’ll pay for that later, woman.”

  They played games with Berry in the pool, Sunday and her ganging up against River until he complained, laughing. Later, Sunday and River cooked a simple meal of roast chicken and they all sat out on the veranda as dusk settled over the valley.

  After Sunday had put a sleeping Berry to bed, she came back out to find River opening a bottle of wine for them. He offered her his hand and she took it, sitting on his lap, and he drew her close. They sat in companionable silence for a while, and Sunday saw him gazing out at the scenery, eyes slightly squinted, and knew what he was testing.

  “Baby?”

  He sighed, nodding. “Yes. The colors are different to how I remember them. It’s like I’ve spilled water onto paint and the color saturation is faded. Damn it.”

  Sunday covered his eyes with her hand. “Close them,” she ordered, and he obeyed. “Now, River Giotto, you know what, say, Hooker’s Green looks like. See it in your mind.”

  She waited until he nodded. “Now open your eyes and look at that cypress tree at the edge of your property. See it with that hue you can see in your mind’s eye. See it.”

  River concentrated and she could see he was struggling. “Baby, remember how you first learned to draw. See it now as how you’ve been taught it looks, but rather how your imagination sees it. Light and shade. See the hue.”

  She watched as his bright green eyes focused and unfocused as he tried to see it her way. “Any luck?”

  There was a faint smile on his face. “Almost, and I can see where you’re going. It’ll take practice.”

  “Anything worth doing will. This is the reality: you have a condition for which there is no cure. So we’ll have to learn to see the world differently. Your art will evolve, perhaps not in the way you had foreseen it, but it will evolve. It’s part of you.”

  River was looking at her, his eyes intense, and he crushed his lips against hers as she finished speaking. “We,” he said with feeling, “you said we will have to see the world di
fferently. God, Sunday Kemp, have you any idea how much I love you?”

  She clung to him. “Show me.”

  He lowered her down to the cool tile of the veranda, covering her body with his. He stroked the hair away from her face. “You look even more beautiful in a Tuscan sunset.”

  Sunday grinned at him. “Coming from anyone else, that would be cheesy, but from you … I’ll take it.”

  River chuckled. “Good.” He kissed her lips then trailed his lips along her jawline and her throat as he unbuttoned her dress. She had decided against wearing a bra in the heat of the Tuscan summer and River sucked on her nipples until they were rock hard and Sunday felt an urgent wet heat between her legs.

  “I want you inside,” she whispered and he smiled at her.

  “You want me inside?”

  “Yes …”

  He reached in his back pocket but she shook her head. “No.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure?”

  “I want to feel you inside me.” She studied his eyes. “Does it scare you?”

  River’s smile answered her question. “No. Not at all … I’ve been thinking about it since Berry asked you the question.”

  “I know it’s quick, but I feel like … my body is aching to bear your child. I’ve never felt like this before, that it’s right, it’s time.”

  She didn’t have to say anything else. River’s lips were rough against hers as he kicked his jeans and underwear off, and as he gathered her to him, hitching her legs around his waist, he nodded. “I want this too, baby, so, so much.”

  His cock was ramrod hard as she helped guide him inside her and he pushed inside her slowly, wanting to remember this moment, finally, skin on skin as they began to make love.

  Their gazes never wavered, their breathing synchronized as River’s cock thrust deeper and deeper into her. Sunday’s thighs gripped his waist, and she squeezed her vaginal muscles harder around his cock, making him groan.