Page 1 of His Virgin Vessel

Chapter One

Corinne

There was a particular look that my dad got on his face when he was suspicious of me. It seemed to have been on his face permanently since I turned sixteen.

"What are you doing here?" he said. Which is how every daughter wants to be greeted by her father when she turns up unannounced.

"That's a nice way to say hello," I replied, instantly on the defensive.

"Well," my dad seemed to regret his rudeness and back-pedaled a bit. "It's not that I'm not pleased to see you Corinne—of course I am, and your sister will be too. It's just that ... it's a bit unexpected, that's all."

"I thought I'd surprise you," I said. "I didn't expect the third-degree just for coming home for a bit."

"You're right. I'm sorry. It was just ..."

"I know. Unexpected."

"And, in the past, when you have come home unexpectedly ..." Dad left the sentence dangling, but I wasn't in the mood to let him off the hook.

"What?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "It's always been because you want something. Because you'd gotten yourself into trouble and needed me to bail you out. Literally on one occasion. You know how embarrassing that is for a sheriff? To have to go and get his daughter out of jail? Can you imagine?"

"Yes. Because you've told me how embarrassing it was once a week ever since. If I ever get married, I imagine that story will be part of your toast at my wedding."

"Well..."

"Why do you always have to expect the worst of me?" I decided to go on the offensive.

"Well ..."

"Why do you have to take everything I do and make it into something bad? I'm not a complete screw up, you know. I had a couple of free days, and I thought it would be nice to visit my dad and my sister, and before I even get in the door you're accusing me of stuff I didn't do."

My dad hung his head in shame, and I savored the moment. Of course, that moment wasn't going to last because dad was absolutely right. I had come home because my dumb-ass ex-boyfriend skipped town with my rent money, and I lost the apartment where we were living— which would teach me to date someone who called himself 'Logan,’ just because he'd seen X-Men too many times. Eventually, obviously, I would have to tell my dad the truth—just as soon as I'd worked out what truth I was going to tell him, because the actual one didn't appeal—but, until then, a little guilt would do him good. Just because he happened to be right this time (and I guess most other times) didn't give him the right to be forever thinking the worst of me. It wasn't fair, and it was no way for a father to treat his daughter. I was twenty-three years old, and I could look after myself, despite all evidence to the contrary.

"I'm sorry," Dad mumbled, half to himself. It was killing him to have to say it.

Maybe it was a little bit mean-spirited to keep him thinking that had he misjudged me, but given the number of times he'd managed to make me feel bad about letting him down, I decided that he had it coming. You would think that he would have been pleased that, for once, his youngest daughter hadn't done something stupid, but no. The truth was that he liked to think of me as a child in need of guidance and discipline, rather than the adult that I had become without him noticing.

I found myself wondering how long I could keep this little deception going and hoped that it would be long enough to come up with a really good excuse for losing the apartment—one that put me in a good light and avoided the necessity of mentioning assholes called Logan (whose real name was Gregory).

Just as I was thinking this, my big sister, Risa, stuck her head into the room, holding the phone with one hand over the receiver.

"Hey, Cor, your landlord wants to know where you want your stuff sent."

The look of triumph on my dad's face as he turned back to me was far worse to endure than losing the apartment. Afraid of being caught enjoying the situation, he quickly switched back to disappointed, another expression I'd seen way too much of over the years. He shook his head despondently. "What is it this time? Another dodgy boyfriend, or are you running a meth lab?"

Dad always loved to exaggerate where I was concerned. It was never enough that my boyfriends were ill-chosen (and I would have been the first to admit that I'd made mistakes), the way he told it they were criminals, conmen, gangsters and hoodlums. The fact that I had never gotten into drugs didn't matter, 'meth lab' was still the first place his mind went. I sometimes wondered if he would have been happier if I'd gone full crack-whore just to prove him right.

"Ask him to send it here," I said to Risa, who was now wearing an expression of extreme apology as she realized what she had inadvertently done. "Temporarily," I added, for Dad's benefit. "I won't be staying long."

"And where will you be going?"

"I just need some time to earn a bit, so I can find another place to rent."

Dad shook his head once again. "Maybe you'd be better off stopping here on a longer-term basis."

"No!" No way was I moving back home.

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