Page 1 of Daddy’s Protection (The Daddy Guard #3)

Theodosia Goodman stepped out of the taxicab, tipped and thanked the driver, and then took a moment to stand in front of the mansion she so admired.

Damn. She missed that place.

She’d only owned it a couple of years, back when her career was burning white-hot. When she was raking in the cash and could afford the magnificent home.

Back when she wasn’t Theodosia Goodman—the Jewish girl from Cincinnati.

She’d been Theda Bara—the mysterious woman “born under the Shadow of the Sphinx.” Queen of the Vamps!

It was all Hollywood rubbish, she thought with a chuckle.

Nothing more than a story dreamed up by some studio publicist. The image sold movie tickets.

Audiences wanted a mysterious, exotic woman shrouded in the lure of the unknown.

That was way more fun than the girl who spent a couple of years at the University of Cincinnati before leaving to pursue an acting career.

And boy had she had some fun!

Things weren’t bad now, she opined. Life was still fun. And her recent marriage was better than any film career. But still, sometimes she couldn’t help but miss those old days.

Or perhaps they weren’t so old…

She’d lived in the beautiful, giant Tudor mansion only two years ago. When Fox released her from contract, though, she couldn’t afford the place anymore. Downsizing, she’d moved up the road a ways.

“Reminiscing, my dear?” a voice called.

Slightly startled, Theda turned to see a man stepping out of the trees and approaching. As was his usual, he was holding a glass of liquor.

Theda had known exactly who it was upon hearing his voice. The unique cadence was always a dead giveaway.

“Hello, Bill.”

He gave a slight nod. “My dear Theda. You miss this place.”

She realized it wasn’t a question. Were her feelings that obvious?

“Sometimes,” she admitted.

Before she could elaborate, two more cabs pulled up, dropped their occupants off, and zipped away.

The five people now heading into the house were all chatting and laughing, walking on by, seemingly not noticing Theda and Bill as they stood on the sidewalk, staring at the mansion that loomed heavy in the late October darkness.

Through the front yard and all the way to the porch, Theda could see jack-o-lanterns glowing eerily. The sound of laughter and distant music drifted out from the house.

“It doesn’t even feel like Halloween,” Theda noted.

“Not in the spirit, eh?”

“I don’t mean that,” she explained. “It’s nearly seventy degrees tonight. In Ohio, the children are probably bundled up as they go about their festivities. I remember it snowing around this time of year. Not always. But it’s happened.”

Bill took another gulp of his drink. He never sipped. Always gulped, Theda noted.

His speech was slightly slurred when he responded, “I see. Well, my dear, your abode is waiting. Go visit her.”

Theda shook her head. “It’s not mine anymore. This is Roscoe’s place.”

She refused to call the mansion’s current owner by his stage name. While the public loved the comedy pictures of “Fatty” Arbuckle, Theda found the nickname demeaning.

“Nevertheless, he invited you here. Go see your friends. Have fun. And say hello to the old girl. She’s probably missed you.”

Theda nodded and smiled as she took one more look at the house.

Bill was right.

The mansion probably missed Theda…