Page 34

Nothing gets past Maxwell Stone. Not for the first time, I count myself lucky he considers me a friend, though I know his fondness for me and the rest of our “family” only goes so far. If he even thinks one of us would be a threat to his little one, or the life we’ve built on this island, I know with absolute certainty he would eliminate that threat as quickly and effortlessly as he’s been known to dispatch business rivals.
With that in mind, I fix an apologetic smile on my face. “He did. But there’s nothing to worry about, I assure you. I have my stepsister well in hand.”
“You’re sure about this? About her? She hasn’t even been on the island twenty-four hours. What if she isn’t a good fit for you?”
“She is.” There’s no doubt in my mind, though I can understand Maxwell’s concerns. “I’ve known her for nearly a decade, Maxwell. I know her, I dare say, even better than you knew sweet little Tori before you brought her to the island. And yes, she’s a brat through and through, but you know how much I enjoy a challenge.”
Humor lights Maxwell’s dark eyes, just a hint of it, but enough for me to breathe easily. “Very true. All right. I’ll deferto your judgement on this. And I look forward to seeing how you rise to this particular challenge.”
“I appreciate your faith in me, old man.”
It’s a long-standing joke between us, based on the fact that Maxwell is exactly one day older than me. I’ve never known him to be sensitive about his age, except for when I needle him about being the oldest of our little family. Even if it is just by one day.
“Perhaps you’re right. She is a good fit for you. A brat for a brat. I’ll see you tonight, Jasper.”
The screen goes dark and I can’t help but chuckle at his parting shot as I turn to study my sleeping Little girl. Perhaps he’s right. I’ve always been of the opinion that sadists all have a bit of brat in them.
Which just means I’m the perfect man for the job of figuring out what makes my brat tick.
And what it will take to make her break.
Juliet
“Come on, princess. Time to get up.”
The familiar, cajoling voice pulls me out of my slumber just as I’m lifted from my warm cocoon. Instinctively, I cling to the person carrying me, whining around the thing in my mouth as he cradles me close.
Jasper. I recognize his voice, but I can’t quite remember why I would be in Jasper’s arms. Or what this odd thing is in my mouth. I suck at the rubber and whine again, more unwilling than usual to fully wake.
His chest vibrates with laughter beneath my cheek. “I know. Daddy interrupted your nap. Bad Daddy.”
Daddy. The word pierces my consciousness, dragging me fully back to the land of the waking. My eyes fly open, taking in my surroundings as he begins our ascent up the stairs.
His home. The nursery. Auntie Cat. Doctor D. Memories of the past day flood me, bringing with them all the pain and humiliation I’ve endured at my brother’s hands.
And yet, he is the one I turn to for comfort, pressing my face into his neck as the memories threaten to overwhelm me.
“Hey now. What’s all this?” His tone is almost sweet as he takes a seat, cradling me in his arms like a small child. “What’s wrong, princess?”
Unable to find the words to explain the chaotic jumble of emotion in my chest, I shake my head and try my best to curl into him even further.
“Poor Princess Juju,” he murmurs, and for the first time it actually sounds like an endearment rather than the merciless taunting of an older brother. “It’s been a big day, hasn’t it, baby?”
I nod, and he presses a kiss to my hair, making my heart tremble at the sweetness of the gesture.
“Would it help if I told you I have some presents for you?”
Presents? I do like presents.
Lifting my head, I look around the room, taking in our surroundings for the first time. We aren’t in my strange nursery, but in a much larger, more masculine room, seated on a giant, wrought-iron bed.
I pop the rubber from my mouth, realizing with some horror that I have been voluntarily sucking on a pacifier. “What kind of presents?”
“The kind fit for a princess. Would you like to open them?”
“It’s not something that goes in my ass, is it?”
Throwing his head back, Jasper lets out a long, loud laugh. “No, princess, these gifts do not go in your cute little bottom. But if you keep using naughty words, I can certainly rectify that.”