As Lucas runs the bath, I scoop my little kitten into my arms, cradling her close to my chest as she sniffles and hiccups. “There, there, little one. It’s all over now. Let’s get you undressed and into the bath.”
“I can do it myself,” she mumbles, but even as she protests, her head drops to my shoulder.
“Oh, no, kitten. You’re far too Little to take care of yourself. That is Daddy’s job.”
“I’m not really a Little girl, you know.”
Setting her on her feet beside the tub, I tug her t-shirt up over her head, leaving her in nothing but the plain white cotton bra and panties she had on beneath her uniform from the ship. “But you are, Natalie. You aremyLittle girl. Which means you will be treated as such by myself and everyone you meet. You will notdress yourself, feed yourself, or care for yourself in any way. I will care for all of your needs.Allof them.”
Lifting her head, she pins me again with those surprisingly shrewd eyes. After the punishments she’s endured today, I would have expected her gaze to be glassy, unfocused. But that same intelligence as before still lurks behind the pale green. “Why?”
“Because I want to. And because that’s the way it is here on the island.”
“Why me?”
Letting my lips curve, I reach behind her and unhook her bra. A delightful blush steals across her cheeks as the cotton falls away, leaving her exposed to my gaze, but she doesn’t look away. Doesn’t so much as flinch. “Simple. You intrigue me. The fact that you were able to not only spy on Jasper and Juliet without their knowledge—your Uncle Jasper is very put out about that, by the way—but able to follow the trail he unknowingly left for you all the way to the island, well, that’s quite the feat. And your plan to get yourself here, while misguided, was a stroke of brilliance.”
I crouch to pull her panties off her, which she allows me to do without a fight.
“I’m surprised you didn’t just send me to sleep with the fishes.”
“I prefer pigs. They don’t leave behind any evidence.”
“Like in Criminal Minds?”
Helping her out of her panties, I frown up at her. “I suppose most would say I have a criminal mind, yes.”
A sweet, high-pitched giggle slips past her lips. “No, I mean the tv show, Criminal Minds. There’s an episode where a serial killer gets rid of the evidence by feeding his victims to his pigs.”
“I don’t think I like you watching anything so… violent.”
One dark brow arches nearly to her hairline. “Says the literal head of a criminal empire.”
“That’s different. You won’t ever see that side of my business. In you go, little one.”
Plucking her up from the floor, I place her in the tub, and she sinks into the water with that same thoughtful expression on her face, wincing only a little as the welts on her bottom come into contact with the hot water.
“Okay, so why didn’t you just send me to the pig farm, then? Surely that would be easier than all this.”
Although I’ve only just laid eyes on her in person for the first time, my heart misses a beat at the thought of her coming to any harm. But telling her the extent of my obsession feels a bit too close to a confession for my comfort.
So I settle for the closest thing to the truth I’m comfortable giving her. “As I said. You intrigue me.”
“Yeah, well, ditto.”
“Ditto?” My lips twitch at the sassy retort.
“Yeah. You know. Like, back atcha. The same. I find youintriguing, too.”
I bet she does. For a reporter of her current station, I would be the story of a lifetime. The violent, scarred criminal who secretly enjoys taking care of his women, keeping them as children. “I’m not as interesting as you may think, kitten,” I say, trying to keep my tone light as I lather a washcloth with the vanilla-scented body wash she prefers.
Seemingly completely oblivious to my ministrations as I wash her arms and upper back, Natalie tilts her head to the side. “I don’t think that’s true at all. Like that scar on your face. I’ve always felt there was more to that than anyone knew. Will you tell me the real story?”
There are only three people who know the real story of how I got my scar. Two of them are in this bathroom, and one of themis six feet underground. “Maybe someday. If you’re a very good girl.”
I have no intention of telling her, no matter how good she is for me. But if she has some hope I might bend, then she’s less likely to go digging into things that are best kept buried. Not that she can do much digging from the island, without access to any electronics since Lucas confiscated hers from their room on the ship and mine are locked down tight, but I’ve seen what my curious kitten can do with limited resources. Only a fool would underestimate Natalie Bauer.
“Fine,” she says with a sigh, dragging the word out in a way that reminds me of a bratty teenager, and I have to resist the urge to smile.
