Single Daddy (The Single Brothers Book 1)

by Stephanie Brother

  He sighed, looking regretful. “Since it’s clear you’re going to make me work for you—and I don’t blame you, really—I’m going to let you turn in for the night. It’s getting late, and we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

  She arched her brow. “Really? What’s going on tomorrow?”

  The corner of Ethan’s mouth curled upward, and his eyes took on a decidedly wicked gleam. “Tomorrow, I’m going to charm the panties right off you, dear stepsister.” He winked at her before disappearing into his own suite, closing the door firmly behind himself.

  Restlessly, Ambra prowled the suite, finding herself in the walk-in closet. Her eyes widened with surprise when she saw a wardrobe nearly identical to one she owned at home. How in the world had he managed to make that happen? It was one thing to consider he might have noted her preferences if he really had some kind of interest in her three years ago, but it was uncanny to have almost the exact same selections available to her here.

  Did he have a spy in Philip’s home? It sounded like outrageous conjecture, and was a ridiculous notion, but she couldn’t help speculating on the identity of the spy as she slipped off the bright pink dress she had chosen for the engagement party and selected a comfortable pair of pajamas instead.

  Could it be Mr. Gibbons? After all, he was the one who had escorted her out to meet Mr. Cartwright. At the time, she had logically assumed he meant her stepfather, but now it was clear he had referred to Ethan Cartwright instead of Philip Cartwright. She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused at the idea of stiff, upright Mr. Gibbons playing the role of domestic spy for the banished heir to the Manor.

  He was usually such a straight, conservative man that it was difficult to imagine him being the dashing spy type. How had Ethan convinced him? It seemed unlikely the older man had fallen sway to money, but maybe she was misjudging him. Perhaps his morals weren’t as upright as she had always assumed.

  More likely, Mr. Gibbons simply had a soft spot for Ethan and was willing to help him. If Philip truly had sent him away, and she couldn’t really doubt that after what she had seen and heard, perhaps the butler had felt sorry for the younger man and had agreed to provide information that might get him back into his father’s good graces.

  She could certainly envision Mr. Gibbons doing that, because though he was somewhat dour, he’d also always been kind to her. So, Ethan had likely won him over with affection, and now she had to wonder if he was targeting her for some nefarious reason, also planning to use her affections against her.

  She shook her head at the thought, knowing she had nothing that would be of any real value to him that would prompt a seduction attempt just to get her on his side. Try as she might, she couldn’t find an angle that cast much doubt on Ethan’s confessions.

  Why would he go to all this trouble unless he really did want her? If he had been giving her time to grow up and ensure she was ready for a real relationship, the kind that lasted forever, wouldn’t the news she was getting engaged have prompted him to act?

  And kidnapping her was certainly within the range of options he would consider. She knew he’d had a reputation for being a ruthless businessperson even three years ago, when he was running his mother’s small company and learning the ropes of Cartwright Consolidated from his father.

  He had come to stay with them after his mother’s death from breast cancer a few months before. Before that, Ethan had been an infrequent visitor during the sixteen years she had lived in the Cartwright home, though he had been there often enough for Ambra to develop a fierce crush on her older stepbrother.

  However, that summer he had actually paid attention to her. They had formed a friendship and discovered similar interests and views. He’d seemed to genuinely like her and enjoy spending time with her, and her crush had deepened into something much stronger.

  She tightened her lips, wanting to reject that notion. It had simply been a teenage crush that had gotten out-of-hand. She hadn’t been in love with him, though she had thought she was at the time. Still, no matter how many times she told herself that, it rang false to her inner ear. Sighing, she forced herself to remember the agony of the night she’d gone to him and offered herself, hoping a self-prescribed dose of humiliation would bring her back to her senses.

  She’d tapped on his door, and Ethan had opened it a moment later. His frown of confusion should have been enough to warn her off, but she had ignored it and asked to come in. After a brief hesitation, he had stepped aside to let her in. Ambra had stood there, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest and hide the breasts she had taken such care to show in the tiny négligée.

  Ethan had closed the door and walked toward her, leaving several feet between them. “What’s going on, Ambra?”

  She’d licked her lips as she searched for the way to say what she wanted. Of course she had practiced the words until she had memorized them, but the script left her mind at the crucial moment. As the silence stretched, she had blurted out, “I love you.”

  Ethan had clearly been shocked, and he had spoken firmly, though tenderly. “You should go back to your room now.”

  Giving in to the desperation she’d felt, she had lifted her hand as though reaching for him. “You feel it too, I know you do. I’m not imagining this spark between us.” When he had remained silent, her lips had wobbled, and she had asked with her heart bleeding from her chest, “Don’t you love me too, Ethan?” Her voice had betrayed her vulnerability, but she hadn’t been able to regret being so open. Not then anyway.

  He had sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “Ambra, you’re too young to know what you want. I’m nine years older than you—”

  Shaking her head, she had interrupted him. “I know you’ve been looking at me, and you’re attracted to me.”

  His expression had remained impassive. “Of course you’re an attractive young woman, and it’s normal to have a reaction to beauty, but I’m not interested in long-term, and I don’t want to settle down. Even if I did, I wouldn’t have a relationship with an eighteen-year-old. You’re too young for me, Ambra.”

  His bluntness had certainly cut through her desperation and all the emotions she’d pent up inside. Tears of humiliation streaming from her eyes, she had pushed past him and raced for the door. Ethan hadn’t reached out to offer any comfort or try to call out to her, and she had run without looking back.

  After that night, she had made a studious effort to avoid him, ducking any interaction for at least a week. It was after she’d emerged from isolation, spent huddling in her room indulging in a spate of self-pity, that she discovered he had packed up and left a few days before.

  She hadn’t known how to reach him other than his cell phone, and she hadn’t even bothered to try. Ambra had forced herself to accept he didn’t want her and was so opposed to the idea he had left his father’s home to avoid her. She had spent the last three years believing she was the reason he had stayed away. With her newly acquired information, she gained a sense of perspective.

  It seemed obvious now she wasn’t the reason he had left or stayed away. Unless she was indirectly? Had Philip discovered how she felt and sent Ethan away to nip any tender emotions in the bud and force her to let go of her teenage crush? It didn’t sound like the sort of thing a father would do, but Philip was her father as much as he was Ethan’s.

  Sadly, he was probably closer to her than he was Ethan, since his son had stayed with his biological mother after the divorce and only visited during the summers and an occasional holiday. Her stomach clenched as she considered the possibility Philip had acted in what he’d believed was her best interest by asking his son not to return.

  His behavior that night had convinced her at the time he wanted nothing to do with her, but could that have been an act? Was he also trying to act in her best interest back then, as he claimed now?

  It was true she had been a young eighteen, sheltered and pampered, with limited interaction with the opposite sex. Ambra had even att
ended an all-girls’ school until graduation a few weeks before Ethan came to stay with them. She’d dated, of course, but she had been ripe for being swept off her feet by an older man, especially one as charming and handsome as her stepbrother.

  If he had felt the same way, guilt must have eaten at him, considering their differences in life experiences and age. Not to mention he was her stepbrother, though they’d never had a sibling-like relationship.

  She could feel herself softening toward Ethan, the ball of anger and humiliation that always formed in her stomach when she remembered that night seeming to melt slightly. What had occurred still embarrassed her, but some of the hurt was lessening as she considered Ethan had simply been trying to do the right thing.

  It hadn’t felt like the right thing back, but with an adult perspective and more maturity, though no more physical experience than she’d had three years ago, she acknowledged it had been the right thing to do. They had been too different back then for a relationship to work.

  She would have lost herself in his more forceful personality and become whatever Ethan wanted her to be. Even if he hadn’t deliberately set out to mold her, she’d been vulnerable and would have changed herself to please him. Maybe he had realized that and had wanted her to develop into her own person first.

  It was certainly a lot to think about, and she crawled into the large bed with her mind full, thoughts crowding her brain until the early hours of the morning. Finally, exhaustion beat out contemplation, and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Three

  Ethan woke her early with breakfast. To her surprise, he set the tray on the bed across her lap and issued instructions for her to be ready to join him when he came back to pick her up in forty-five minutes. Without further clarification of just what he had in mind, she didn’t know how to dress, but she ate her breakfast quickly, not surprised to find it included her favorite items. She assumed that was also Mr. Gibbons’s doing.

  After eating, Ambra left the bed and took a quick shower in the luxurious bathroom before dressing in jeans and a sweater. Her wardrobe choices reflected the fact he’d worn something similar when delivering her tray. When he tapped on her door and entered without waiting for her to issue an invitation to enter, she was ready, with two minutes to spare.

  He gave her a look of appreciation. “You make sweaters and jeans look darn good, Ambra.”

  His faded jeans molded his legs and emphasized his taut bum, so she could say with complete sincerity, “So do you, Ethan.”

  He led her from the room, her hand grasping his, and the skin-to-skin contact sent tingles up her arm. The physical reaction to his proximity hadn’t changed, and she wasn’t sure if it ever would.

  They left the large house, but instead of taking her to a vehicle, he tugged her in the opposite direction toward the stables and the back of the estate. Hand-in-hand, they wandered the grounds and talked about his plans for the place. Stopping at one point near a large cleared space, he said, “This was a garden and will be again. What kind of flowers should we plant here, Ambra?”

  It was a silly question, and she had no say in the matter, but she played along. “I’ve always considered flowers a waste of space. I’d rather grow a garden, preferably organic, and donate anything we don’t use to people in need.”

  She watched in amazement as he took out his smartphone, swiped the screen, and spoke into it a moment later about converting the main garden to an organic vegetable garden instead of planting flowers and ornamentals. She frowned at him, waiting until he finished talking before she asked, “Why did you change your plans? I have nothing to do with it.”

  He gave her a smile that was a little tense. “If I have my way about it, you’ll have everything to say about what we do here. When I said I brought you to my home, and I’m keeping you, I meant it. I’m not talking about a quick fling before I send you back to Philip. I want everything…now, tomorrow, and forever.”

  She shook her head, unable to believe what she’d heard. It just didn’t make sense. “If you felt that way, how could you wait three years? Why didn’t you come for me, and why wait until I was about to get married?”

  “You know why. I wanted you to be grown up and ready for me.”

  There was an ominous trace in his tone that made her frown. “What’s there to be ready for?”

  His expression changed to one of dark intensity, and he pulled her closer to wrap his arms around her. His face was almost touching hers, though he didn’t kiss her. His brown eyes didn’t waver from her blue ones when he spoke. “You will belong to me, and only me, Ambra. I’m going to possess every inch of you. You had to be ready to accept my total ownership.”

  She blinked, heart rate accelerating from a combination of fear and a touch of excitement at the dark notion. “I’m not anyone’s property, Ethan.”

  He gave her a half smile. “You are, babe, but you don’t know it yet. Well, you know it, but you haven’t accepted it. You will though.”

  She shook her head. “This is a side of you I never expected to see, Ethan. To be honest, it’s disturbing.”

  He nodded. “It’s a little disturbing for me too. I don’t like needing you so badly, but it is what it is. You’re mine, I’m yours, and you just need to realize that.”

  “So the ownership thing goes both ways?”

  His brow furrowed. “Of course. What do you think I meant? Did you think I was going to be screwing around on you or something, while I expected you to stay home and play the little woman?”

  She half-shrugged, not really having an answer for him, though relief swept through her at his clarification. It was still a little frightening to know how much he wanted her, but she was reassured to know he felt the same about her having him.

  They would belong to each other, if she accepted his weekend of seduction and gave in to what he was offering. Clearing her throat, she pulled her hand slightly from his hold, just enough to lessen his grasp without forcing him or herself to let go. “What’s next on the tour, Ethan?”

  ***

  They spent a pleasant two hours wandering the grounds, stopping at the stables to see the horses and discuss his intentions to expand into thoroughbred racing. He showed her improvements and those just in the planning stages, always getting her input.

  Back at the house, Ethan spent a long time showing her around each of the rooms, once again giving her the history of the items and the house, and getting her opinion on changes he wished to make. She learned he had only recently acquired the property, and he had a lot of plans, but had held off making major changes until she was with him so her views could be integrated into the revisions.

  She was feeling slightly overwhelmed by the whole situation, but also strangely certain he was telling her the truth as they went up to the third floor, back toward the wing containing their bedrooms. He’d listened to her intently and had duly noted all her thoughts, leading her to believe he truly planned to incorporate her opinion into his designs. That wasn’t the sort of thing one did for a casual fling, and she was having less and less reason to doubt he really wanted her and had just been waiting for her to be older.

  Instead of taking her to either one of their rooms as she had half-expected, thinking the seduction had escalated, they entered another room instead. This one also joined the master suite, off his room instead of hers, but it was a completely bare room. She stared at the white walls and white-blonde flooring before giving him a look of confusion. “What are you going to do with this room?”

  He came to stand behind her, his hands on her shoulders for a moment before he pulled her back against him and wrapped his arms around her, his hands on her stomach. “This will be the nursery.”

  For some reason, his words made the breath catch in her throat, perhaps because it bespoke intent. He was talking about babies. That must mean he wanted the whole package—marriage, children, pets, and happily ever after.

  Her heart raced with excitement at the idea, and Ambra adm
itted to herself she had never gotten over him. She had spent the last three years fooling herself into thinking she had outgrown her infatuation, but it had never been just a crush.

  “So tell me, Ambra, what color are the walls? Pink or blue?”

  She allowed herself to relax against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Neither.”

  “Neither?” He sounded disappointed when he repeated her answer. Clearly, he believed she wasn’t going to participate in this fantasy.

  With a small smile he couldn’t see, she added, “It will be either pale mint or light-yellow, because we want to be surprised. We won’t know the gender until he or she is born. Over there, above the crib, we’ll have a big wall mural full of giraffes, zebras, and lions.”

  He uttered a sound of contentment. “And a large tree with monkeys and macaws.”

  She laughed slightly. “Do parrots live in Africa? I thought they were indigenous to South America?”

  When he shrugged, it jostled her entire body because they were so close. “I don’t know, but what does it matter? If we want parrots in our safari-themed nursery, we can certainly do that, can’t we?”

  His hand moved from her stomach to explore lower, his fingers brushing against the top of her mound. “After all, we’re rebels, Ambra. You’re my stepsister, but I’m madly in love with you, and I want to fuck you a thousand different ways. Then I want to slow down, make love to you, and then fuck you all over again.”

  His hand moved lower to cup her pussy, which was suddenly wet from his words. “I can never get enough of you, and I guess the only question is do you want me too?”

  Without a hint of hesitation, she turned in his arms and wrapped hers around his neck. She wound her fingers in his thick hair and urged his head nearer her own as she stretched on tiptoe to ensure their lips met. Just before she kissed him, she whispered against his lips, “I want you more than anything.”