Daddy Wanted

by Wylde, Tara

  Finally, after several long moments, she lies back in the bed and pulls the covers up to her chin .

  “Where am I?” she asks in a papery voice .

  Interesting that her first concern is where she is, not who I am. More evidence that whoever put the holes in the catamaran is more fearsome to her than the grim, bearded man sitting next to the fireplace in this strange room with her .

  “You’re in my home,” I say. “Up the road from East Hampton .”

  She stares at me in silence for what seems like a full minute, running her tapered fingers through the thatch of her hair. It makes her seem younger somehow, and I wonder again just how old she is .

  “You,” she says. “You saved me. On the boat .”

  I nod .

  She leans forward in the bed, and I can see naked gratitude in her eyes .

  “Thank you,” she says earnestly .

  I nod again. She’s not offering details on how she ended up on the boat or who put the holes in it, and I’m not going to push. I learned long ago that asking for details rarely makes a situation better .

  “My name is Nick,” I say. I raise my eyebrows, inviting a response .

  She bites her lip and looks away. All right, then .

  “How about I call you Storm?” I offer .

  She smiles and nods, obviously relieved. Oddly, I find myself smiling back. I can’t remember the last time I did that; it feels strange on my face .

  “Storm it is, then. Is there anyone you need to call ?”

  A shadow crosses her face; it’s all the answer I need .

  “Right,” I nod. “A single woman .”

  “I’m sorry,” she blurts. “I don’t really – I mean, I just …”

  I raise a hand to quiet her. “You don’t need to explain anything to me,” I say. “You’re welcome to stay here until you feel better. I haven’t had a companion in a while. Well, other than Samson and Delilah, of course .”

  She blinks. “Samson and Delilah ?”

  I wave my hand towards the side of her bed. She leans over to see the dogs lying on the floor, muzzles on paws, looking up at her. As she makes eye contact, their tails begin to wag in unison .

  “Oh!” she gasps. “They’re beautiful !”

  They’re also the best judges of character I’ve ever known, and they haven’t left Storm’s side since I brought her onto my boat. That alone is enough reason for me to keep her here and not ask questions. And, of course, the fact that I’d appreciate the same if I was in her position .

  Storm turns to me with a childlike grin. “Can I pet them ?”

  The dogs stand and raise their muzzles to her outstretched hand. Samson, the larger of the two, slides his leathery tongue along Storm’s palm, prompting a giggle of delight .

  “They like you,” I say. “Usually they just ignore strangers. Unless they’re doing something they’re not supposed to, of course .”

  She frowns. “What happens then ?”

  I shrug. “They’re highly trained guard dogs. You do the math .”

  Her eyes widen and she looks down at them as she absently scratches behind Delilah’s ear. Delilah’s eyes are closed in silent appreciation .

  “They’re so sweet,” says Storm. “I can’t believe they’d hurt anyone .”

  I surprise myself by chuckling. It’s been ages since I’ve laughed .

  “They’re predators,” I say. “It’s in their nature. But they can be tamed so that they keep their deadly instincts in check until they’re needed .”

  Her blue eyes meet mine and suddenly my belly is full of butterflies .

  “Did you train them yourself?” she asks .

  I nod. “My father taught me .”

  He taught me a lot of things , I don’t add .

  Storm looks around the bedroom, taking it in this time instead of just trying to get her bearings. Judging by the look on her face, she’s impressed – perhaps even intimidated. Outside the window, the rear gardens glow red in the furious sunset that was left behind by the abating storm .

  “Is this all yours?” she asks. “The whole house ?”

  “Yes,” I say, then nod towards the dogs. “Well, mine and theirs .”

  She looks at them and giggles. “That’s a lot of house for three, don’t you think ?”

  “I suppose. But it’s far away from other people, and hard to get to, which is how I like it .”

  Storm’s brows knit and I know I’ve said something wrong .

  “I’m sorry,” she says, reaching for the coverlet. “I should go. You’ve done so much for me already –”

  “No,” I say quickly, fighting a surge of adrenaline in my belly. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re welcome here. In fact, I insist you stay until you feel better .”

  She bites her lip. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a burden on you .”

  I weigh whether to keep dancing around the subject or to pull it into the light. As is my nature, I choose the latter .

  “Someone has already tried to kill you once,” I say .

  Her eyes widen. “How did you …?”

  “I saw the holes in the hull of the boat. Look, I don’t particularly care what led to you being out in that storm; your past is your business. But there’s an old saying about being responsible for a life you save, and I can guarantee that you’ll be safe here .”

  Storm sits silently for a few moments, chewing that over .

  “You don’t know the people who are – who led to me being on that boat,” she says. “I don’t want to put you in danger .”

  I chuckle again. “I’m in no danger, Storm. Trust me .”

  She looks down at the dogs, then back up at me .

  “I believe you,” she says quietly. “I don’t know why, but I do .”

  Why does that make my belly flutter ?

  “Good,” I say with a full-on smile. God, how long has it been since anyone saw one of those on my face ?

  “What happened to the boat I was on?” she asks .

  “It should still be anchored where I left it. I was planning to retrieve it after you woke up .”

  “You can sink it for all I care,” she says with a scowl .

  “All right.” I nod .

  Storm blinks at me. “I didn’t really – I mean, you’d actually sink it ?”

  “Sure. Easier than bringing it in .”

  “But – but what about… you know, the owner ?”

  “I’m guessing the owner was the one who shot at you, so I don’t really care about their opinion .”

  She mulls that over, then nods. “Okay,” she says. “Yes. Please sink it .”

  “You’ll be all right without me?” I ask as I stand to leave .

  She smiles and strokes Samson’s head .

  “I’d say I’m pretty safe, wouldn’t you ?”

  I surprise myself by smiling again. Twice in one day is a record for me, at least for the last decade or so .

  “The bathroom is through that door,” I say, pointing in the direction of the room’s en suite . “The kitchen is on the main floor in the east wing .”

  “East wing?” she says, eyebrows raised. “How big is this place ?”

  “Big enough to get lost in. Don’t worry; the dogs will follow you anywhere you go. I’ll be back soon .”

  As I turn to leave she says: “Nick ?”

  “Yes?”

  “Be careful. Okay ?”

  “I always am .”

  She nods. “Yeah, I can see that .”

  “Once I’m back, we can talk about things a bit more. Or not. Up to you .”

  “I think – I think I’d like to talk more .”

  “So would I .”

  Did that just come out of my mouth? I’ve been alone in this house for more than a dozen years with no one but the dogs to talk to. And that’s the way I like it. Then this woman shows up out of nowhere and suddenly I’m a chatterbox ?

  I shake my head as I stalk out of the room, wondering what the
hell I’m getting myself into .

  Chapter Thirty-One

  3 . STORM

  It doesn’t occur to me until after he’s gone that Nick saw me naked .

  I mean, he must have – he changed me out of the dress I was wearing on the boat into the sweater and pajama pants I’m in now. And my underwear is nowhere to be found .

  No man has ever seen me naked before, let along touched my bare skin. And yet he must have done to get me changed. I don’t know how I feel about that. Anyone else and I probably would have felt totally creeped out by the thought of it .

  But it was Nick, and I’m not. In fact, I’m almost … excited by it? Is that insane ?

  Beside me, Delilah chucks her snout under my hand. Pet me , if you’d be so inclined , she’s saying, so I do. Samson looks on jealously, so I reach my fingers under his chin and give him a scratch, too .

  Nick. Who is this guy? I tell him to scuttle a catamaran worth probably a quarter-million dollars and he agrees without batting an eye. And making promises about keeping me safe – is he really as tough as he tries to sound? The men who are after me are seriously dangerous. A couple of German shepherds and a creepy old house won’t even break their stride .

  But there’s something about Nick that makes me believe he can back up what he says. Maybe it’s that inky hair and those steel-grey eyes. Or that body – he’s easily twenty years older than me, but I could see the rock-hard muscle under his shirt every time he moved. Or the fact he moves like some jungle cat, as if anything that’s in his way would simply step aside and let him pass .

  Or those tattoos on his knuckles. I didn’t recognize the symbols, but even I’m old enough to realize they’re not there out of vanity. Nick’s ink is there for a reason, unlike all those Millennial hipsters who think tattoos will make them look tough .

  So what is he, then? A thrill runs through me at the thought of finding out. But is it excitement I’m feeling – or fear? Or both ?

  Whatever it is, right now Nick is the only thing standing between me and Arkady. And so far, he doesn’t seem interested in my past. He doesn’t even mind that I haven’t told him my real name. That’s enough for me .

  It has to be .

  * * *

  F rom what I can tell, Nick’s house is bigger than the elementary school I went to back in Arkansas, and I’ve only been through half of it so far. A quarter, really, since it’s two stories .

  So far I’ve been through the main floor of the wing on the ocean side – mostly bedrooms and bathrooms, but also a few sitting rooms, a home theater and a library. All of it is like my bedroom, with rich, dark wood, ornate rugs and beautiful antique furniture. The last purple light of sunset filters in through tall cross-hatched windows, casting shadows on the walls behind the statues of old men in military clothes. It’s what I imagine an English manor house would look like .

  Yeah, like I would know. The sum total of travelling I’ve done in my life was Arkansas to New York a few years ago .

  True to Nick’s word, Samson and Delilah haven’t left my side since I started exploring. They pad along beside me as I pass through the main entry foyer on my way to what Nick called the east wing, where the kitchen supposedly is, in search of something to quell the grumbling in my stomach .

  “Hungry?”

  Jesus! I freeze, and my mouth suddenly tastes like pennies as adrenaline courses through my body. The sound of my own blood roars through my ears as my mind imagines Arkady standing behind me with a gun pointed at the back of my head .

  “Ah shit,” the voice mutters, and I manage to finally breathe when I realize it’s Nick. “Sorry. I thought you heard me come in .”

  My legs tremble as I turn to face him in the wide hallway. The sheepish look seems so out of place on his grim face that I almost let out a hysterical laugh .

  “It’s okay,” I manage to say despite my galloping heartbeat. “I should have been paying attention .”

  He places a warm hand on my lower back, sending a jolt up my spine .

  “No, it’s not okay,” he says. “I’m too used to being the only person in the house; I should have realized you wouldn’t hear a door in such a huge place. I need to get used to that if you’re going to be staying here .”

  Staying here? I – I like the sound of that .

  “No, really,” I say. “You’re the host, I’m the guest. I’m the one who needs to get used to things .”

  His smile and the fading light combine to soften the features of his face. He doesn’t seem nearly as grim as he did when I first woke up in the bedroom. Or maybe it’s just me .

  “How about we both start thinking about it?” he offers .

  “Deal.”

  He points toward the far end of the hallway. “The kitchen is down this way. I was asking if you were hungry when I scared the shit out of you .”

  “Starving,” I say with a giggle. “All that terror really worked up an appetite .”

  He leads me past a huge formal dining room with seating for twenty, and into the kitchen beyond it. As he hits the light switch, I can see that, unlike the rest of the house, this room has been renovated and updated, with a restaurant-sized refrigerator and a ten-burner gas range. The towering windows open out onto the gardens at the back of the property .

  Now that we’re in the light, I can see Nick also has a canvas shopping bag. He lays it on the counter as he turns towards me .

  “Would you like me to cook something for you?” he asks .

  I shake my head. “I don’t want to put you out. Just a piece of toast and some tea would be great .”

  “You’re sure ?”

  I nod. He seems disappointed, but fills the kettle from the sink next to the stove .

  “What’s in the bag?” I ask .

  “Clothes. I figured you’d get sick of my sweater and pajamas pretty soon, and your dress wasn’t exactly practical .”

  My heart skips a beat. I never even thought about clothes, and here this stranger has gone out of his way to buy me some. It’s one of the most thoughtful things anyone’s ever done for me .

  “Thank you,” I say. “Again. I’m starting to sound like a broken record .”

  He shrugs. “Can’t have you running around naked .”

  That makes me think about him changing me, and I feel that unfamiliar thrill down there again .

  The tea he makes is black as tar and the toast is some strange dark bread I’ve never seen before, but both are delicious. As I finish my snack, I see Samson and Delilah snoozing on the floor several feet away and realize suddenly that I’m exhausted .

  “I’m sorry,” I say through a yawn. “I think I need to go back to bed .”

  Nick nods. “There are real pajamas in the bag. Women’s, I mean .”

  He actually looks uncomfortable as he says it, and I can’t help but wonder if he kept his eyes closed while he was changing me. The thought makes me feel – I don’t know. Comfortable , I guess .

  “You think of everything.” I smile .

  “It’s kind of a new experience,” he says. “There hasn’t been a woman in this house for a very long time .”

  His words make me instantly curious, but exhaustion wins out and I start the long journey back to my bedroom. I stop to touch his shoulder as I pass .

  “Good night, Nick .”

  “Good night, Storm .”

  I smile sleepily at the name as I leave the light of the kitchen and venture into the vast darkness of the rest of the house, both dogs silently flanking me .

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  4 . STORM

  This time when I wake up, I know where I am. The lace curtains aren’t doing anything to keep the sunrise out of my eyes, and I can smell the smoky remains of the fire that burned itself out over the course of the night .

  I take a long, hot shower in the en suite’s clawfoot tub, using the shampoo and conditioner that was in the bag Nick gave me. He thought of everything, including a razor and a blow dryer. The only thing he d
idn’t get was make-up, which I never use anyway .

  At least, I never wore it until Arkady forced me to .

  A stab of panic runs through my belly at the thought, but I manage to breathe it away. I remind myself that I’m safe now. I’m with Nick .

  My hair looks infinitely better than it did last night, tangled as it was by my time in the ocean and then the old four-poster bed. Once it’s dry, I throw on some underwear – it occurs to me that it’s kind of amazing how Nick managed to guess my size – along with a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt from the bag. I won’t be going to any Broadway openings in it, but beggars can’t be choosers .

  Boy, if that’s not the story of my life .

  It’s a lot easier to navigate the house in the full light of day, instead of the bruised sunset after a storm. Samson and Delilah appear at my side like silent Secret Service agents as I leave my room. I think they may have slept in my room last night, but I can’t be sure; as far as I can tell, I didn’t even roll over after my head hit the pillow .

  The first stop I have planned is the kitchen. The tea and toast from last night are long gone, and I was hoping I could return the favor by making breakfast for Nick. But first I have to find him .

  The west side of the house is as empty as it was last night, so I pad through the main foyer and head to the unexplored east wing, past the dining room and kitchen to another hallway .

  Whap!

  What?

  Whap thok! Whapwhapwhapthokwhap! Thok thok THOK !

  My breath hitches in my chest as the strange sounds echo along the old wood paneling in the hallway. They’re coming from a room about thirty feet down and to my left, and there’s something undeniably violent about them .

  I open my mouth to call Nick’s name, but stop myself before I do. Drawing attention to myself is a bad idea. Instead, I tiptoe down the hall, my back to the wall, towards the sounds. They’re even louder as I reach the open doorway: WhapWhapWhapTHOKWhap !