Page 21 of Daddy's Claim
Horror, ice cold and piercing, had me stumbling back. “No!”
“Relax, princess. I’m just going to brush your hair.”
Well, duh. What the fuck else did someone do with a hairbrush? “No you are not. You’ll ruin it!”
The corners of his mouth turned down and confusion filled his eyes. “I can’t brush your hair?”
“Absolutely not! You don’t brush curls like this!”
“Then how the hell do you get it to look so pretty?”
Ignoring the warmth his frustrated praise created in my belly, I planted my hands on my hips. “It’s a process and I’ll takea hundred spankings before I let your giant ham hands screw it up.”
“Then show me the process.”
I opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off, then changed my mind almost immediately. Fine. He wanted to play Daddy and take care of me? The man was going to tap out ten minutes into my daily routine.
But he didn’t tap out. It took almost an hour and I got myself more than one swat for swearing at him, but he managed to refresh, scrunch, and dry my curls almost as well as I would have herself.
“You do that every day?”
“Between washes, yes.” Leaning into the mirror, I swung my hair from side to side, begrudgingly impressed with how shiny and bouncy the curls were. “Wash day is a whole different beast.”
“Jesus. If it wasn’t so damn pretty, I’d be tempted to cut it.”
My gasp of horror wasn’t the least bit fake. “You wouldn’t!”
“No, princess. If it means that much to you, I wouldn’t.”
Frowning, I let him lead me out of the bathroom. “This is really confusing. You don’t care about my opinion and then you do.”
He stopped just beside the bedroom door to turn and cup my face in his huge hands. “I do care. But I’m also going to make decisions you don’t agree with if I think that’s the best choice for you.”
“I think I know what’s best for me.”
“Well, as soon as you can show me you can be a good girl and make good choices, we can test that hypothesis. Come on. Let’s go get some breakfast.”
Eight
Nora
Hand in hand, we made our way to the dining room, his thumb constantly moving and caressing the skin of my knuckles. The sweetness of the gesture had butterflies dancing in my stomach, and as frustrating as I found my body’s reaction, it was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. At least until we walked into the dining room and I saw Cole and Adele sitting at the long table, with a veritable breakfast feast spread out on the long buffet behind them. The butterflies fled and all I felt was the stinging disappointment at not being allowed to enjoy breakfast alone while I was still reeling from the events of the morning.
“I’m suddenly not hungry,” I mumbled as I stopped my feet from moving forward.
“You need to eat, princess.”
No way was I going to sit and play nice with a woman who obviously hated me. Standing my ground, I shook my head in silent refusal.
“Leonora, that wasn’t a request. You don’t have to eat a lot if you’re really not hungry, but you will sit and eat with us. Whether you do so with or without a sore bottom is up to you.”
The fact that he spoke low enough for only me to hear helped to mitigate my embarrassment at being chastised like a naughty child, but the threat still grated on me. I was getting really fucking tired of being threatened all the time. A little voice in the back of my mind spoke up, telling me that if I would just listen, he wouldn’t keep threatening me. But I would be damned if I was going to let him win that easily.
“Fine.” I tilted my chin, meeting his gaze with a defiant glare. “I’ll eat, but I am not eating withher. You can have something sent up to my room.”
“Nope,” was his only response as he tugged me forward, forcing me to either walk or fall flat on my face.
Holding tight to my hand, he pulled out a chair directly opposite Adele and practically shoved me into it before pushing it up to the table. I stared down at the plate sitting in front of me, willing back an unexpected wave of tears. If I thought peeing in front of my new husband was mortifying, being manhandled in front of others was even worse. Especially when one of those people was Adele.