Page 201 of Daddy's Wild Girl

He grimaced. “Ah, baby.”

Oh no.

She didn’t like the look of that face. “What?”

“There is no toilet, darling.”

“Then . . . where do I go?” She knew the answer. Of course she did. But she didn’t want to hear it.

“Outside.”

She was shaking her head before he even finished. “No. Nope. Not happening.”

“I should have realized you’d need to pee. Come on, let’s get more clothes on you and take you out.” He’d dried her clothes in front of the fire, but she was just wearing her underwear and top. She didn’t want to put her pants and jacket on and go outside to pee.

And what about when she had to do other things?

“No. I’m staying here.” She crossed her arms over her chest so he knew she meant business.

“Baby, you cannot hold on.” He gave her a firm look. And crossed his arms over his chest.

Uh-oh.

Level four. Not good.

“I don’t need to go.” No more soup for her. Not until she was near a working toilet.

“Yes, you do. Come on, it’s no different from when Daddy helps you go those other times.”

But it really, really was.

Once they were both fully dressed, he lifted her into his arms and walked outside.

“This sucks. This really, really sucks,” she grumbled. “If Sebastian came back alive, I’d kill him dead again!”

“Just because you have to go potty outside?” he asked.

“Yes!” she cried.

He hadn’t put a shoe on her sore foot, probably because she couldn’t stand on it, she guessed. But how was she going to pee on one leg?

The snow was still coming down and should have been pretty and magical. Instead, it was cold, and all she wanted was her cabin with her fireplace, a cup of hot cocoa and lasagna.

“I want lasagna.”

“When we get home, I’ll make you a huge tray.”

“With garlic bread.”

“You got it,” he said as he stopped and set her down on her good foot, holding her steady. He kicked a small hole in the snow and then stood behind her, supporting her while he undid her pants and drew them and her panties down to her knees.

“Right, crouch back as though sitting on the toilet,” he told her. “I’ll hold your weight.”

“And I want hot cocoa with lots of whipped cream,” she said, completely humiliated. “And tiny marshmallows.”

“Of course, you deserve those marshmallows.”

Darn right, she did.

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