Page 105 of Textbook Defense

The second time it happened, Rowan woke in the middle of the night to find Kaira at his bedside, teary-eyed and sucking her thumb.

“Poppet?” Rowan groaned. “What—? Poppet, what’s wrong?”

“I’m wet.”

Fuck. “Okay. It’s okay, poppet. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He scooped her up, heedless of her wet nightie, and carried her into the bathroom. Once she was clean and dry, he brought her back to her bedroom and got her into clean clothes and stripped her bed. Before he could remake it, she asked, “Rowan? Can I sleep with you in Daddy’s bed?”

He didn’t hesitate, just picked her back up and carried her to his—Jordy’s—bed and tucked her in. After changing his own shirt, he crawled in next to her. She scootched in close, curled toward him, thumb in her mouth and stuffed armadillo clutched to her chest.

“Night, Rowan,” she muttered around her thumb.

Rowan pressed a kiss to her hair and wondered what the hell he was going to do. Hopefully she wouldn’t have another accident. “Night, poppet.”

A few mornings later, Rowan was starting to seriously reconsider Kaira’s travel plans. Sending her on a cross-country flight with a woman she treated as a stranger at best and an interloper at worst… honestly, Rowan could think of too many nightmare scenarios to name. Just yesterday, Kaira cried because Anna had to drive her to school. Would she behave on a five-hour flight? Rowan imagined her screaming and news reports of a kidnapped child grounding the plane.

He was gearing himself up for an awkward call with Jordy, and maybe dragging his feet in denial, when he had to stay late for another staff meeting.

Marina raised her eyebrow and smiled when he walked in solo. “No kid this time?”

Rowan gave an anemic smile. “Fortunately we got the nanny situation sorted out.”

Not that another late-night meeting was doing Rowan any favors regardless. Kaira was not happy that he’d be missingbedtime, and Rowan anticipated some form of payback when he got home. Finding her still awake but calm or crawled into his bed were two of the milder scenarios he was imagining.

He definitely hadn’t expected a phone call an hour into the meeting from a frantic Jordy.

“Rowan,” Jordy gasped. “She’s gone!”

“What?” Rowan had ignored the first call, but when the second came in immediately on its heels, he had apologized and stepped away from the others.

“The alarm at the house is going off, and I looked—Rowan, she left the house!”

“Who did?” Rowan asked as patiently as he could over his racing heart.

“Kaira! The camera shows her leaving with boots and a backpack five minutes ago.” He sounded on the verge of a panic attack.

“Shite.” Rowan strode back to the table, grabbed his stuff, and headed for the door, apologizing and claiming a family emergency as he did so.

“Why aren’t you with her?” Jordy asked.

“I was at work. Did you call Anna?”

“What? No, I—”

“Hang up and call her. Then call me back. I should be in my car by then.”

He barely felt the bite of the wind as he jogged to the SUV. He was getting into the driver’s seat when he realized he’d left his coat in the library.

He jammed the button to start the engine and made himself take two slow, deep breaths. Then he set the nav system to give him the directions home. He didn’t have any spare brain cells to worry about Toronto traffic. Let Google figure out that part.

Just let her be okay, he prayed as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel at a red light that seemed to be on anagonizingly slow timer. At least she’d left the house of her own accord. No one had taken her.

She was a six-year-old alone outside in the dark in the winter. No one had taken heryet.

Rowan was going to throw up.

Ring, he silently begged the phone.Please.

The GPS indicated thirteen minutes until he made it home.

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