Page 26 of Protected By Her Daddy

He nods and disappears, returning a moment later, holding a garment bag. “For our dinner tomorrow night,” he says, handing it to me.

I unzip the bag with trembling fingers and gasp. It’s a dress. A beautiful, elegant sheath dress in deep red that looks like it’s made of liquid rubies. The fabric shimmers as I hold it up, imagining how it will cling to my newly restored curves.

“Thank you, Gabe,” I whisper.

He smiles. “You’re welcome, little bird. Enjoy your hot chocolate. I have some phone calls to make.”

Little bird. The affectionate term resonates deep within me, kindling new desires and a yearning that has been quietly growing since I stepped into Gabriel’s world. This existence is so different from the one I fled from, and the possibilities seem endless.

“Gabriel?”

He pauses in the doorway. “Yes?”

I open my mouth, then close it again, shaking my head. “Nothing.”

He nods and heads to his office, leaving me with the crackle of the fire, the warmth of my hot chocolate, and the ghost of his touch still lingering on my skin.

The silk hugs my body like it’s made for me, which I guess it was. The dress is bold, a statement I never thought I’d make. But here I am, slipping into the heels that are way too expensive to even look at, let alone wear. They click on the hardwood floor, echoing in the silence of Gabriel’s penthouse.

“Wow.” That’s all he says when I step out of the bedroom, but his eyes speak volumes.

I’m not used to being the center of attention, but as I meet his gaze, something shifts inside me. Fake it until you make it, right? I stand taller, allowing the heat in his eyes to give me confidence.

“You clean up pretty nice yourself,” I tease, trying to match his level of suave and failing miserably.

His laugh is low. “You look amazing, Wren.”

“You sure know how to pick out dresses,” I say, my voice soft.

An unspoken conversation hovers in his brown eyes, one that tells me he sees more than the dress and the woman in it. He sees… me. And every day, with every glance and every touch, he makes me feel like I’m worth seeing.

Ed’s waiting by the car when we step outside. His nod is somehow respectful and mischievous. It’s like he knows something I don’t. Maybe he does.

We climb into the back seat of the luxury car, and Ed drives us through streets sparkling with Halloween lights, the city wrapped in its ghostly best.

Gabriel is greeted like a long-lost friend by the owner of the restaurant—a tall, dark-haired Italian in his mid-thirties called Matteo—and we’re quickly shown to our table in the back.

Gabriel takes control, ordering for us without a second thought. I let him because he knows what I like. But does he know what I want? I glance at him across the table, my heart doing a stupid little dance in my chest. Yeah. It’s him. Nothing else comes close.

Nervous energy builds inside me, and I tap my foot under the table. His stern glance cuts right through me, and I drop my gaze, stilling my fidgeting. But I can’t help the smile that curls my lips. This game, this push and pull between us, is addictive.

“Wren,” he says, his voice a blend of amusement and warning.

It sends a thrill down my spine, and I bite my lip to hold back a giggle. He’s enjoying this as much as I am, I can tell. That thought alone is enough to keep a smile on my face for the next year.

But then I start to fidget again as we wait for our food, not content to simply watch the other diners. My leg bounces, and Gabriel leans toward me.

“Behave, little bird,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.“Or I’ll take you home and put you over my knee.” His voice is a soft growl that wraps around me like velvet ropes.

I freeze, my heart hammering in my chest. He leans back, casually picking up his glass of water as if he didn’t drop a bombshell into my lap and detonate it.

My thoughts are a whirlwind. Does he mean… spank me? The idea sends an electric thrill through me, and for the life of me, I can’t stop imagining what that would be like. His hand. On my skin. It’s all I can think about, and I’m suddenly very aware of the chair beneath me. Heat pools in my core. I shift slightly as wetness spreads over my panties.

Holy crap. I can’t believe this is happening.

The rest of dinner passes in a blur. I’m sure each bite is delicious, but my appetite is now for something else entirely. All I want is Gabriel. The dessert arrives, and it’s a decadent chocolate lava cake that melts on my tongue. But it’s not him. It’s not enough.

“Ready?” he asks after the server clears our plates.

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