Page 17 of Daddy's Stowaway

I turned off the light and headed back to bed. Antonia had kicked off the covers, so I moved in behind her, and she snuggled back against me with a happy little moan. I pulled up the covers and held her tightly to me, finally dropping off to sleep just as the room lightened with the coming dawn.

Chapter 9

Antonia

I awoketo sunshine pouring through the window, and a soundly asleep hunky man cuddled behind me. I quietly giggled as I moved his protective arm from around my waist, marveling over not waking him. I wondered if he’d stayed awake after ourShark Tankmarathon. The last thing I remembered was Kevin losing to Barbara on an organic, animal-free testing skincare company.

Dressed still in the same t-shirt, I puttered soundlessly downstairs to make coffee. It was my turn to take care of Alex and bring him a feast in bed. But what I didn’t bank on was the kitchen appliances being archaic. Maybe not the right word, but I was used to everything being electric. Alex’s kitchen boasted a six-burner stove and double-gas oven. I was so paranoid about how the pilot lights worked that I opted for cut fruit with organic-oat yogurt and fresh coffee in the end. I was a little embarrassed that I had to Google how to use the maker, but the finished product looked and smelled so great I let that go.

I’d just placed the tray on Alex’s end table when an arm snaked out and grabbed me so quickly I screamed. He managed to yank me across his body and onto the bed.

Then he pulled me back to my original position, tucked into his front. His eyes were closed and he could have been thought to be asleep if not for the small smile present on his gorgeous face.

“Who told you to leave this cozy nest? I think I need to remind you who’s in control,” he growled in a sexy voice.

“But, Daddy”—I pretend pouted—“I brought you a treat.”

“You certainly did,” he said, squeezing my asscheek.

I squirmed in his grip; even though his squeeze was a turn-on, I wanted to keep up the act a little longer.

“Please.” I pouted for real this time. “I made it myself.”

He cracked open an eye and whatever he saw on my face had him releasing my ass and scooching up to a sitting position.

“The coffee smells delicious,” he said, taking a sip. “My compliments, you make an excellent cup of java.”

I beamed with the compliment and clapped my hands which I did a lot around him. My innocence had been cut short, and I found myself acting out some of my habits from when my parents were alive, and instead of feeling foolish about it, I allowed it to be part of me. That was a huge step, allowing myself to indulge in this vulnerability again after not trusting for so long. Somehow doing this one little act for him and being praised was like music to my ears.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I cooed in response. He handed me my cup, and I plumped up the pillows against the headboard and leaned back, gazing out to the sea beyond the bank of windows.

“This has to be the most beautiful place on earth. I’m surprised you don’t spend more time here.”

“Would you like to?” He seemed to be asking honestly if that was what I would want. “You know, spend more time here?”

I felt suddenly unsure of myself and wondered if he meant with him or on my own. And that brought up a myriad of indecision in me.

“Antonia, can I ask, when I saw you at the airport, you had an air of desperation about you. Like you were running away from something or someone. Would you tell me who?”

Shit, shit, shit. What do I say? I didn’t want him to know of the ugly life I’d been leading, his version of me ashiswas growing on me, and I didn’t want to do or say anything that would ruin it.

“If it helps, I know about Mitch Markos.”

That name, that god-awful name I hated more than anything, hung between us like a poisonous viper ready to strike me down and take away my newfound bliss. As it was, I felt myself turning off, back to the ice bitch who kept me safe.

In a voice I didn’t recognize, I said, “It’s better if we don’t discuss this. Safer if you remain ignorant of that particular person. He is in the past, an ugly past I don’t want to share out loud with anyone.”

I felt panicked and set down my coffee, no longer lulled by the sight of the ocean outside our front door. His front door. I was anxious and needed to move. I went to the walk-in and looked through my airport bags and found what I was looking for, workout clothing.

I threw everything on, ripping off tags as I went and then to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Alex was still in bed when I stepped out, but his body language was no longer relaxed either. He was ready to move, and quickly by the looks of him.

“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?”

“For a run. I have to run, I’ll be back in an hour.” And before Alex could protest, I took off down the hallway to the stairs, disabling the alarm in record time, and flying out the front door. I decided to run on the sand. It was early enough, and no one was around. Gazing down the coastline, the beach weaved through the jungle, and it looked to be a perfect place to lose my mind and find my soul or just forget for a while.

I realized I had no phone, and I knew that would piss Alex off, but I couldn’t go back until I ran off my anxiety. I didn’t warm up, just started racing down the beach as fast as my little legs would go. Half an hour later, my speed tapered off, and my racing heart appreciated the slower pace. I ran until the jungle became too thick to continue.

I turned around, wishing I had water to drink. When I felt I could, I began the slow jog back, appreciating the surroundings I’d missed on my first run-through. It was beautiful, stunning, but I remembered what Alex had said about knowing my environment. I had no clue where I was, no phone or fresh water, and I hadn’t passed a single dwelling.

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