Page 73 of Break Me, Daddy

He was still at his computer, a frown on his lips as his eyes scanned the documents taking up both oversized screens in front of him. Was he reading up on Cordelia’s cult? Or was there some other threat to some other client he had to stay one step ahead of?

How much of his day did he devote to taking care of other people, before he came home to take care of her? A pang hit her, right in the middle of her chest, as she considered for the first time how much energy and time he devoted to keeping other people safe.

Even though she crossed the room without making a single sound, he still turned to face her as she approached, whatever worry he’d been carrying a moment ago clearing from his face as he smiled at her.

“Did you have a good nap?”

Hoisting herself up onto his lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck, closing her eyes as she breathed in that deep, woodsy scent that was so uniquely him. “Mmm. Yes. Thank you for making me rest.”

Beneath her cheek, his chest rumbled with laughter. “That may be the first time you’ve ever thanked me for making you do anything.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Drawing on what little bit of courage she possessed, she lifted her head to meet his dark gaze. “I don’t tell you enough how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You saved me, and I’m sorry I’ve been too self-absorbed to thank you properly.”

Lifting a hand, he cupped her face, and she nearly sighed at that gentle touch. Everything about him seemed designed to soothe or arouse her, depending on his intentions. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do. I don’t know where I would have ended up if you hadn’t come when I’d called you from the hospital.” She needed him to know that, even if she couldn’t bring herself to lay all her troubles at his feet. At the very least, she needed him to know how grateful she was for everything he’d done to keep her safe, both from her circumstances and from herself, directly.

But instead of the understanding she’d hoped to find in his gaze, she found only what looked like worry. “You would have figured it out. You’re smart and resourceful, Francesca. With or without me, you’d be fine.”

Well, whatever response she’d been expecting, that sure as hell hadn’t been it. “Why are you being so… whatever this is?”

He glanced away, and for a moment she was certain he wasn’t going to tell her. But then he sighed, pulling his hand away from her cheek to run it through his hair. “Because I don’t want you to feel trapped.”

“Trapped? Why the hell would I feel trapped?”

“Maybe that’s not the right word.” When his gaze returned to hers, her heart ached at the pain there in the dark depths. “I came for you because I love you. But I never want you to feel like you owe me for that.”

Where the hell had that come from? No matter, wherever he’d gotten that idea from, it was one she was happy to put to rest. “You have never once made me feel like I owe you anything for rescuing me. If anything, you’ve made it abundantly clear that we can’t be together, not for real, until you’re certain it’s one hundred percent because I want this. And I know I’ve been a bit of a bitch about that, but I do know how much of a sacrifice that is for you. And I know you’re doing it because, once again, you’re determined to do what’s best for me. Even if it hurts you.”

“I’m not quite that selfless.” The corners of his lips curved up in a sad smile. “I want to be sure, for myself. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering if you’re just with me because you didn’t have any other options or out of some strange sense of obligation.”

“I mean, same, really. You’re so focused on saving me right now, sometimes I wonder…” Breaking off, she shook her head. “Never mind. It’s not important.”

“Francesca. I know I said you wouldn’t provoke me into spanking you, but if you don’t finish that thought I will put you over my knee right now and make good use of the paddle I keep stored in my desk drawer.”

Need, hot and sudden, pulsed through her core, and part of her was tempted to put his threat to the test.

But this was too important a conversation to play games with, so she dragged in a breath and forced herself to say the words. “Sometimes I wonder if you’ll get… bored, I guess?”

“Bored?” Throwing his head back, Holden let out a laugh so loud it echoed off the walls around them. “Frankie, I’ve been many, many things during our time together. But boredom has never entered the picture.”

“No, but that’s my point.” Suddenly feeling urgent to make him see, to make him understand, she shifted to straddle his thighs, her hands braced on his shoulders as she stared into those dark eyes. “You're not bored because you have apurpose. What happens when I don’t need you to save me anymore? What happens when I’m just some woman in your bed and not a princess in need of saving?”

“Oh, baby.” Now he cupped her face with both large hands and something inside her settled almost instantly. “You could never be ‘just some woman’ in my bed. I didn’t fall in love with you because you needed me to rescue you.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. I fell in love with you the first moment I laid eyes on you. So full of life and excitement and mischief in that club. And I knew from the first time I tasted you that I’d never be able to live without you. Even if you never need me again, Francesca, I need you like I need the fucking air I breathe. More than that, Iwantyou. I want to wake up next to you every day for the rest of my life. I want to spend my days wondering what kind of naughtiness you’re going to get into so I have an excuse to turn that gorgeous ass of yours red. I need you, and I want you, and I cannot imagine a life where I am ever, ever bored by you.”

Emotion swelled in her chest, threatening to squeeze the oxygen from her lungs. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“I do. I’ve never once doubted how I feel about you, Francesca.”

Right. That doubt had been reserved for her, and she couldn’t even blame him for it. Not after the way she’d treated him, acting like a spoiled child when she hadn’t gotten her way and then leading him on a merry chase for months afterward.

Maybe she could repair some of the damage she’d done. Or at least begin to.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how sorry I am. For the way things ended between us the first time around.”

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