Page 165 of Daddy, Sir

Or for Daddy.

But that wasn’t what people in polite society did, so instead he nodded, holding out his hand to take hers.

Shoving her drink at her blonde friend, the siren placed her hand—her much smaller, much daintier, much more fragile hand—in his. With a whoop of laughter, she spun around him, dancing her way out onto the floor with Holden close behind.

Which, as it turned out, seemed to be all she expected of him. Arms in the air, she spun and shimmied and moved to the music without any encouragement from him at all.

He was transfixed by her. And when she leaned back against him, her round, firm ass pressed against his legs as she moved her hips, he was lost.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her closer to him, savoring the feel of how small, how delicate she was in his arms. “You’re a tease, little siren.”

With another of those wild laughs, she tilted her head back to grin up at him. “Hell yeah, I am. What are you gonna do about it?”

Holden Prescott wasn’t a man given to recklessness. Years of military training, followed by the work he did as the owner of one of the most respected security firms on the east coast had taught him to be careful. Deliberate. To never do anything without a plan.

One look at her was all it took for him to throw every second of that training out the window.

“Let’s get out of here and I’ll show you what happens to little girls who tease.”

Because he was watching her, and because she was still pressed right up against him, he felt as much as heard her sharp intake of breath. Was able to watch as her pupils darkened, as the muscles in her throat moved frantically.

For a second, he thought he’d overplayed his hand. But then she nodded, excitement burning in the dark brown of her eyes. “All right. Let’s go, big guy.”

Frankie

“Who the hell is that?” Lottie, one of Frankie’s oldest and closest friends asked as Frankie hurried back to the table her friends had claimed pretty much the moment they entered the club.

“No idea.” Breathless, both from the dancing and the man, Frankie scooped up her purse with a laugh. “I’ll let you know if he gives me a name. Bye, girls!”

“Wait!” Jumping up from the table, Eva, another of Frankie’s oldest and closest friends, lunged for her, grabbing her by the arm before she could get too far. Eyes wide in a pale face surrounded by big, fat blonde curls, she looked like a particularly worried china doll. “You can’t just leave the club with some random guy you just met. Especially when that random guy looks like he could snap you in half without breaking a sweat.”

She wasn’t wrong. But that was part of the thrill, as far as Frankie was concerned. “Don’t worry about me, Eva. I’ll be fine. I promise to check in as soon as I get home.”

Guilt pricked at her when she pried Eva’s fingers from her arm, ignoring her friend’s panicked expressions as she turned to head back to the dance floor, where her huge silver fox stood waiting for her.

Waiting. And watching. He’d stopped dancing the moment she’d stepped away, and she’d been hyperaware of his gaze on her the whole way back to her table.

There was something powerful in that, in having a man who looked like he could take on every single person in the club all at once and leave without a scratch on him watching her like he was dying of thirst and she was the last drop of water in a barren desert.

And if there was one thing Francesca Legare craved more than anything, it was power.

So maybe she slowed her steps a bit, and maybe she put a bit more swing in her hips than usual. Who could blame her when a man like that was watching every move she made?

Coming to a stop in front of him, she let her head fall back, let her lids close just enough to give her a sultry, sexy sort of look. “Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

Silver Fox placed a hand at the base of her spine, and she would have been lying if she tried to say it didn’t give her a little thrill. There was just something sopossessivein that simple touch. She didn’t usually go for the jealous, protective type, but maybe she’d been missing out.

Outside, her impromptu date for the evening handed his card over to the valet who immediately rushed off. It was still early enough that most people were just getting their nights started, which meant it was just the two of them and a handful of stragglers outside under the streetlights.

And she was suddenly, intensely aware of how very small she was compared to him.

Maybe this wasn’t her best idea, after all.

“It’s not too late to change your mind.”

Humor twined around the deep, gravelly notes of his voice, and when she looked up at him, she found that same amusement dancing in his eyes. Which only served to spark the competitive streak inside her that her father had been nurturing from the day she’d been born.

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