Unstrapping me from the table, he helps me to the ground and pulls the onesie over my head. “Who's Auntie Cat?” It's the second time he’s mentioned her, so obviously she’s someone important.
“There are five of us here on the island, each of us in search of our Little one. Your Uncle Max, he’s the one who brought us all together, and his Little girl Victoria. Then there’s your Uncle Jasper and his Juliet, but you know all about them already.”
Even though there’s no censure in his tone, I can’t help but feel like I’m being scolded. “Look if they didn’t want me to know about them, then they shouldn’t have been so loud.”
His laughter is loud and deep as he pulls the twirly purple skirt up over my hips. “Very true, and you have my full permission to tell him that to his face.”
“Really?”
“Yes. There is nothing I love more than watching a spoiled rich boy get put in his place.” The corners of his lips dip down into a thoughtful frown. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that. You still need to respect your uncles, even if some of them are a bit laissez-faire for my tastes.”
“And here I was, looking forward to giving Jasper Blackwood hell.”
Still frowning, he taps a finger against my lips. “Language, kitten.”
Right. “Sorry, Daddy.”
“Good girl. And you can still give him hell, just… respectfully.”
“I think I can manage that.” Maybe.
By now I’m fully dressed, including a pair of socks that come all the way up my thighs, leaving just an inch or so of skin bare between the tops of them and the bottom of my skirt, and a pair of pure white sneakers I’m sure won’t be pure white by the end of the day.
Picking me up again and settling me on his hip, Evander heads for the door. “Let’s see, who else? Ah, yes, your Uncle Gideon. He’s a bit quieter than the others, but I’m sure his Little Isabella would be the first to tell you he’s no pushover. And then there’s your Auntie Cat. She doesn’t have a Little one of her own yet, so she puts all her energy into spoiling her nieces.”
“I’m down to be spoiled.”
Again he laughs, that deep, rich sound that makes my tummy flutter. “I’m sure you are, kitten. But your Auntie Cat does not put up with any nonsense. If you misbehave while you’re out with her she will not hesitate to put you over her knee and paddle your bare bottom with her hairbrush.”
Right. Because, as he said, the other “adults” on the island have the right to punish me in his place. “I’m not sure I like the idea of other people spanking me,” I mutter.
Hell, I don’t love the idea ofhimspanking me, but at least that’s only one humiliation to bear.
His smile says he understands my arguments, but he won’t be moved by them. “Then I suggest being a well-behaved Little girl and you won’t have to worry about it.”
Easier said than done.
At the bottom of the stairs, he makes a left-hand turn away from the front door. “You’re free to explore the house as you like, but you are not to step foot outside without me or another adult. Preferably your Papa or one of your uncles or Auntie Cat.”
“I can’t go outside?” I love being outdoors. As a kid, my best friend’s dad used to take us camping every summer and I’ve never quite shed that need for fresh air and freedom. Even whenI’m buried in a book, I prefer to do my reading outside in the sunshine whenever I can.
“Not without supervision. But I think there will be plenty to keep you occupied here in the house.”
There’s a hint of wry amusement in his tone, and I’m about to ask what he means when he pulls open a set of large French doors. And in that instant, I forget all about what lies beyond these walls.
“Oh. My.God.”
It’s the largest library I’ve ever seen, at least in someone’s house. From the floor to the two-story-high ceiling are rows upon rows of books. Evander lowers me to the ground and I immediately rush over to the closest set of shelves, running my fingers lovingly over the old bindings. “Oh. Oh, it's lovely. I didn’t think…”
I trail off, shame heating my cheeks at my thoughts.
“You didn’t think a man like me would be so well read?” he asks, his tone dry.
Turning, I look up at him. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t very nice of me.”
“It’s all right, kitten. You wouldn’t be the first to make that assumption and I doubt you will be the last.”
But despite what he says with his words, his tone says differently. It’s not that he sounds upset. Just the opposite, really. He sounds… blank. Like he’s very deliberately keeping himself separate from me. Gone is the warmth we shared up in my nursery, and the loss of it chills me to my bones.
