Page 8
Chapter Seven
Evander
Glancing over at Cat, I send her a warning look. “Keep her out of the way.”
While I’d love nothing more than to have my Little girl in my arms, I don’t want her in harm’s way if Jasper decides to throw a punch.
Not that he’d ever intentionally hurt a Little one, even one he’s pissed at, but Jasper can be a bit of a hothead.
And, I’m willing to admit, I enjoy pushing his buttons.
The doors to the library fling open again and the heir to the Blackwood fortune storms inside, his dark eyes blazing with fury. “Where is she? Where’s the nosy-ass reporter you’ve allowed onto our island?”
“Good afternoon, Jasper. Nice to see you, too.”
The corner of his lip peels back in a snarl. “Cut the shit, Evander. I still can’t believe you brought her here. Or that Maxwell let you. What the hell were you thinking?”
“You had your way of finding your Little girl, and I had mine.” Without taking my eyes off him, I gesture to Cat. “Jasper, meet Natalie. Kitten, this is your Uncle Jasper. I promise he’s not this much of an asshole all the time.”
“Actually, he kinda is from what I’ve heard. Charming, but an asshole.”
Sighing, I risk looking away from Jasper to pin her with a glare. “ Language , Natalie.”
Hunching her shoulders slightly, she flashes me a sheepish grin. “Whoops. Just slipped out.”
When I turn back to Jasper, I have to swallow down the urge to laugh at the pure shock on his face as he looks from my naughty kitten to me. “Are you really going to let her talk to me that way?”
“No. I scolded her. You heard me.” If those words had been aimed at me, I’d already have her on her knees for another round of soap. And perhaps it’s wrong of me, but I don’t feel the same need to punish her right now.
After all, Jasper is an asshole.
It probably shouldn’t give me so much joy to watch that vein pop in his neck, but it does.
“You can’t be serious about keeping her here.”
Cocking an eyebrow, I send him a look that hopefully conveys what an idiot I think he’s being. “Would you rather I send her back to New York so she can write a rather sensational story about the island of kinky billionaires she visited?”
“Fucking hell, Evander.” Running his fingers through his hair, Jasper paces back and forth. “Seriously. How the hell did you let this happen?”
“It’s not his fault!” Natalie wriggles out of Cat’s arms—or rather, Cat allows her to—and storms right up to Jasper, jabbing her finger in his chest. “If you didn’t want a nosy reporter finding out about your precious island, then you should have kept your kink to yourself in public.”
Any of the other Little girls on the island would be fleeing for safety at the thunderous look on Jasper’s face. But Natalie is either too brave or too inexperienced to be bothered by it.
My money is on the former, and I can’t help but be proud of her for it.
“That’s entirely beside the point, little girl. Evander should have put a stop to your investigation before it even got you this far.”
Stepping forward, I pick Natalie up, holding her on my hip as I meet his furious gaze. “As I said. You had your methods. I had mine. Natalie isn’t a threat to anyone as long as she stays on the island, and I have every intention of ensuring that is exactly what happens.”
From the corner of my eye, I catch Natalie sticking her tongue out at Jasper. As much as I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her punished, she isn’t leaving me with many options.
“Natalie Quinn. What did I tell you upstairs?”
Righteous anger burns in her gaze when she turns her head to look at me. “He’s being a jerk.”
“And you are being very rude, little girl. What did we talk about?”
Uncertainty creeps into her eyes. “Ummm, I don’t remember.”
Little liar. “I said you could give your Uncle Jasper hell, as long as you did so respectfully.” Ignoring Jasper’s low growl, I hold my Little girl’s gaze as color creeps into her cheeks. “Do you think sticking out your tongue and calling him names is very respectful?”
“Maybe not,” she mumbles with obvious reluctance. “But he deserved it.”
If I’d known exactly how perfect for me Little Natalie would be, I wouldn’t have waited so long to get her to the island. “Maybe he did. But Little girls who disrespect their elders don’t get any dessert with dinner.”
“Are you serious, Evander?” Shock rings out in Jasper’s voice and it’s all I can do not to laugh at how incredulous he sounds. “If my Juliet spoke to you that way, she wouldn’t sit comfortably for a week.”
“Oh, leave him alone.” Rolling her eyes toward the ceiling, Cat strolls forward and lays a hand on Jasper’s arm.
“Our sweet little niece is right. You are a very charming asshole and you were being rather rude to Evander. And your Juliet would be just as indignant on your behalf if the roles were reversed.”
“Perhaps,” Jasper admits begrudgingly. “But she would never be that rude to one of her uncles.”
“She’s also had plenty of time to settle in and learn the rules. Natalie just got here, after weeks on a boat with a bunch of rough, smelly men. Give her a bit of grace, Jasper.”
His expression softens, just a bit. “I still say it’s dangerous to have her here. What if she manages to get hold of a computer or a phone? She could expose us, Evander, with one single email.”
“I’ll make sure she doesn't cause any trouble.”
“By denying her dessert?”
Temper sparks in my chest. “I don’t tell you how to discipline your Little one, Jasper. Don’t tell me how to discipline mine.”
“Fine,” he snarls with another glare for Natalie. “But when she puts all of us at risk, don’t come crying to me.”
Turning on his heel, he storms out of the library, the doors swinging shut behind him as Cat sighs.
“Give him some time. I imagine his ego has taken quite a hit, knowing he’s the one who really put us all at risk of exposure.”
“He can have as much time as he needs, away from my Little girl.”
Cat nods. “Fair enough. I’ll let him stew for a bit and then send Maxwell and Gideon to talk to him. They’ll set him straight.”
“I appreciate it.”
A soft smile curves her lips as she runs her hand over Natalie’s hair. “She really is perfect for you, Evander. I always did imagine your Little one would have a bit of fire in her, and she’s got plenty to spare.”
“That she does.”
“Mmm. I need to get going, but I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch? After your appointment?”
“It’s a date.”
“Good. Enjoy your evening with your Daddy, sweet Natalie. I left some fresh milk with your Papa for after dinner.” Glancing up at me, she winks. “Milk isn’t dessert.”
Gratitude fills my chest. As much as I’ve come to care for my family here on the island, I’ve always felt a bit on the outside.
The others grew up in the same social circles more or less and have known each other for years.
But with one simple act, Catharina has made me one of them in a way I never truly expected to be. “No, no it’s not.”
With a sassy wave over her shoulder, she strides from the room, leaving me alone with my Little girl. “You really were very rude to Uncle Jasper, kitten. If it happens again, I’ll have no choice but to spank you right in front of him. And do you really want to give him that satisfaction?”
She sighs, a heavy, dramatic sort of sound that nearly makes me laugh. “No, I suppose not. It’s just, he really is an?—”
“ Natalie .”
“Well, he is!”
“Be that as it may, you will be respectful or you will be punished. Am I understood?”
Another dramatic sigh and a slight roll of her eyes has me fighting back another laugh. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Now, let’s finish our tour and then go see what your Papa has planned for dinner.”
Natalie
The house is even larger than I expected. Larger, certainly, than anything I’ve ever seen in person. It’s certainly not the worst prison in the world.
And Evander’s personal chef, Mikhail, is a wonder. I don’t recognize half the dishes presented to me at dinner, but every single one is somehow the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten.
Even being cradled in Evander’s arms as I drink more of that extra-sweet milk from a bottle isn’t so bad.
If it weren’t for being made to use my diaper before bed, I could pretend this was just some weird, luxurious vacation.
But it’s not, and the memory of that humiliation still heats my cheeks even hours later.
I’m too wired to sleep. Too excited about all the possibilities that lie in the darkened house beyond my bedroom door.
There’s no clock in my room, so I have no way of knowing what time it is when I sit up in my crib to fiddle with the bars, but it’s pitch-black outside and the house has been quiet for a while now.
It takes a few frustrating minutes, but eventually I’m able to get the side of the crib down so I can climb out. Quietly, as quietly as humanly possible, I tiptoe across my dark room, using the trickles of moonlight through the windows to guide my way.
Thankfully, the door doesn't creak as I ease it open, and I send up a silent prayer to whatever patron saint looks out for nosy reporters. I creep down the stairs, pausing in the foyer to orient myself.
During our tour this afternoon, there was a room Evander specifically told me I wasn’t allowed in. I assume it’s his office, but even if it’s not, there’s obviously something behind that door he doesn’t want me to see.
Which, of course, means I have to see it.
Heading toward the back of the house, I look for the library, and then retrace our steps to the best of my ability from there.
Library, the living room with the giant television that looks more like a movie screen, a room he called the parlor that’s much more formal looking than the living room, a dining room and—a-ha!
The forbidden room.
Jackpot.
In yet another stroke of luck, the door is unlocked and I’m able to slip inside without issue. Somewhere in the back of my mind, alarm bells ring, telling me this has all been far too easy. That it must be a trap.
But even if it is a trap, what’s the worst he’ll do? Another spanking? Yeah, that hurt like hell, but I can endure a few whippings here and there if it means getting the information I need for my story.
I am a journalist, after all.
Turning the light on is a risk, but since the house is still silent around me, it’s one I feel comfortable taking. And I nearly cheer out loud when the overhead light flips on revealing exactly what I expected to find.
Evander Hawthorne’s office.
Double jackpot.
The computer sitting on top of his desk is locked, as I expected, so I set to carefully rifling through his drawers in search of a password. I doubt a man as security- conscious as Evander would just leave it lying around for anyone to find, but a girl can hope.
I’m on the third drawer when something catches my eye.
It’s not his password, but something far more interesting.
A woman, pretty with dark hair and sparkling brown eyes smiles out from a picture frame.
In her arms is a child, probably less than a year old if I had to guess, with its own dimpled smile as it waves to the camera.
Who are they? I’ve never heard anything about Evander Hawthorne having a family, though I’ll admit I never paid that much attention. The mob was never something I paid much mind to, though now I am wishing I’d at least taken a passing interest.
If he has a family, what is he doing here? With me?
My mind is still whirring with questions when a deep voice freezes me in place. “What are you doing in here, little girl?”