Page 43

"That's one thing I love about you, Daddy. You are a regular Florence Nightingale."

"That's enough sass out of you, naughty girl. And the next time you deliberately disobey Daddy, we'll go back inside, and you'll see what getting your butt busted really feels like."

Scrunching her nose, she answered, "Yes, Daddy. I'm sorry."

"I just want you to be safe, little one. The ice is a lot of fun, but it can be dangerous if you don't mind Daddy. I’m setting the timer on my watch for five minutes.”

She spent her time singing “One Hundred Bottles of Beer on the Wall,” changing beer to milk when he stalked her way. He pulled her to her feet, swatted her bottom twice, and started the timer over.

Thankfully, the second time she made it the five minutes without incident.

"Are you ready to be my sweet gypsy now?" he asked when the timer dinged.

“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry I didn’t stay where you told me.”

“You did the crime. You paid the time. Now all is forgiven and forgotten. Let’s get you out on the ice.”

She stepped on the ice and would have fallen again, but he held her up. Turning to skate backward, he held out his hands so she could use them as braces as she found her balance. After a couple minutes, she pushed herself back a bit to keep steady without him.

He had to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep from laughing out loud when she began to scissor her feet frantically back and forth. With quick movements, he helped her regain her control, then kept silent and watched, ensuring she didn't fall.

He tried to tell her what to do, but she insisted she could do it herself. Shaking his head, he let her learn the hard way. She'd wear herself out eventually, and then maybe she would listen to him.

“Daddy!” she yelled on her twentieth failed attempt. “These skates are broken. Is there a different pair I can try?"

"Before we do that, little gypsy, why don't you try listening to Daddy instead."

She tapped her chin with one finger, as if thinking it over. Of course, with mittens on, tapping one finger meant she shifted her entire hand, slapping herself on the chin. "I think that might work," she said.

"That's funny, I think that might work, too."

He decided on this first lesson to help her get used to moving on the ice so she wouldn't be afraid. The second he had that thought, he realized he'd forgotten something important. "Listen to me, little girl. You may never, ever get on the ice unless I am with you. I am very serious about this. Do you understand?"

Giving him the best innocent expression he’d seen on her face yet, she nodded. "Ice skate only with Daddy. Got it."

Figuring this was another thing she would more than likely have to learn the hard way, he slowly turned her in his arms until her back was pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist, spreading his feet wide to bracket hers in the middle. "I want you to work on keeping your skates pointed straight ahead. Daddy is going to do all the moving right now."

When she nodded, causing the bunny ears on the hood of her coat to flap around his face, he slowly moved forward.

At first, she stiffened in his arms, but in no time at all, she relaxed, holding her arms out to the side. She cried out, "Look at me, Daddy. I'm flying! I'm flying!"

"I see that, babygirl. How would you like to do a spin?"

"Oh, yes, Daddy! Yes, please! I want to spin.”

Angling his feet, he took them in a small circle, lifting her from the ground so her skates wouldn’t get caught on the ice. "When I put you back down, I want you to point your toes out and bring your heels closer together. Can you do that?"

Because of his height, he could lean over her shoulder and watch her as she concentrated. Tongue peeping out the corner ofher mouth, she tried to do what he said. When her feet were in position, he pushed them in a circle again.

They played on the ice for an hour. The sun slowly set behind the mountains. The outdoor lights all around the swimming hole flared to life.

He could tell his babygirl was getting tired. Turning her back to face him, he lifted her from the ice. "Wrap your legs around my hips, Gypsy."

It was a bit of a struggle because her legs were tired, but she did what he asked. He took a few slow laps around the rink. With a large harvest moon rising, he guided them off the ice, pressing her against the railing of the path to the lodge.

When he looked down into her eyes, the desire he saw there burned through him. She deserved tenderness. He should be gentle with her. She was so fragile in some ways, and so strong in others. But when she looked up at him, lids half closed, lips parted, he could barely remember his own name.

She ran the tip of her tongue over her plump lower lip, and his heart thundered. Even with the snow beginning to fall and the freezing temperatures, heat overwhelmed him. He didn’t think about control. Or responsibilities. Or anything other than what this woman was doing to him.