Author : Stella Moore
Lastest : Page 79
Views : 27609
Daddy's Mercy All her life, MaryAnn Foster has been a victim.Even the man she thought she’d loved turned out to be a monster, manipulating her, using her in his own sick and twisted games.Now the monster is free again, and he is coming for her. To keep her safe, she’s whisked away by the most gorgeous man she’s ever laid eyes on.A man determined to not only protect her from her past, but to help her heal from it. Under Dean’s watchful eye, she uncovers more and more of the woman she’s always believed she could be if she only had the courage.And when she finally pushes Dean to put her over his knee like a naughty little girl, it’s the first time in her life she’s ever felt so alive.But danger still lurks outside the walls of Dean’s fortress of a home, and when one of MaryAnn’s closest friends disappears, she knows it's time to make a choice. Hide away, turning her back on the love she’s finally found…Or prove once and for all she’s done being the victim....Read
You’ll be staying with me until the situation is under control.
Those words, spoken in Dean Mitchell’s firm, no-arguments-allowed tone, played over and over in her mind as she drove obediently behind the giant black truck. She’d tried to argue when they’d first told her they were moving her, but between Dean and her stern-faced lawyer, Bryant Monroe, she hadn’t stood a chance.
As if she ever stood a chance of standing up to anyone.
So now she was driving to some strange man’s house where she would basically be on lockdown until the man she’d thought she had loved was back behind bars.
But what if they never caught Nate? Surely a man like Dean had better things to do than spend the rest of his life babysitting a woman who was too stupid to know when she was dating a serial killer. What was the time limit on this situation? What was she supposed to do if they decided it was safe for her to return home and Nate was still out there, waiting?
Panic locked around her chest like a vice, tightening and tightening until it felt as though she couldn’t draw even a molecule of oxygen into her lungs. Blackness crept along the edges of her vision and her hands tightened on the steering wheel as she tried desperately to will it back.
She wouldnotmake a fool of herself by having a panic attack and crashing her car into the tailgate of Dean’s truck.
Focusing on her fingers, she forced her pinkies to loosen their death grip, followed by her ring fingers. One by one, until she was holding the wheel like a normal person and not like someone in danger of drowning.
As her fingers relaxed, so did the band around her chest, and she was finally able to drag in a deep breath. It exploded out of her as a sort of half-laugh, half-sob, and she briefly wondered if that was the sound of someone losing the last bit of their sanity.
But then she was able to pull in another lungful of oxygen, and this time she held it for the full count of five like her therapist had taught her before slowly blowing the air out through her mouth. With each breath, the blackness around the edges of her vision receded a little bit more, and the tension in her muscles gradually eased.
By the time she turned onto a long and winding driveway lined with so many trees they nearly blocked out the sun, the panic had mostly receded. Thank god, because she would have died of embarrassment if Dean had caught her in the middle of it. The last thing she needed was the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on thinking she was a total nutjob.
Oh, god. What if she had one at his house? In the middle of dinner? Would they be eating dinner together? Was he going to be at the house with her all the time? Did he have a job other than babysitting her? He had to have some other form of income. Unless he was charging Bryant an outrageous amount.
Which was entirely possible. Dean had only said the cost was ‘being handled’, he hadn’t said how. Why would Bryant pay for private security for her when the cops would already be watching her? And if Bryant was covering the cost, how was she ever going to repay him?
That vice around her chest threatened to tighten again, so she drew in another deep breath before it had the chance. And then they came to the end of the driveway, and for a few moments, all her worries disappeared, crowded out by the sheer awe of the house rising up in front of her.
It wasn’t just the size of it, though it was massive. Three full stories, from what she could tell, with three dormers jutting out from the roof of the giant cape cod style home. But it was gorgeous as well, and lovingly maintained. White siding seemed to sparkle in the sunlight, a stark contrast against the slate gray shutters and roof.
Then there was the landscaping. Explosions of color, even at the tail end of November, lined the sides of the house and the walkway.
This wasn’t just a house. It was an oasis. A place to escape the evil of the outside world.
And she was invading it.
Before her thoughts could spiral again, she was jolted back to reality by someone tapping on the window of her car. Smothering a scream, she turned her head and locked eyes with the man on the other side of the glass.
Up close, he was even more beautiful than she’d realized back in her apartment. Even in late fall, his skin had a sun-kissed look about it that made her wonder about his heritage. And though he kept it closely cropped, his dark hair looked so thick and shiny, it made her fingers itch to run through it.
Then there were his eyes. God. Anyone who didn’t think brown eyes were just as gorgeous as any other color had never come face to face with Dean Mitchell. They weren’t a flat or muddy brown, but a kaleidoscope of different shades and emotions.
Her favorite thing about his eyes, though, was that they held no pity. Sympathy and understanding, even a little concern, yes. But no pity.
And that was a rare thing for her these days.
“Ready to go inside, or do you need a minute?” he asked when she rolled down the window.
“Oh. Um.” How was she supposed to answer that? The idea of stepping inside that gorgeous house was overwhelming, but she couldn’t very well sit outside forever. And it wasn’t polite to force everyone else to sit outside and wait just because she was being a coward. “I-I’ll go in.”
Although his smile stayed in place, one dark eyebrow raised, giving her the impression he wasn’t happy with her answer. “MaryAnn, you are a guest in my home, but I do have some rules I expect you to follow. The very first rule is that I will always be honest with you, and I expect the same courtesy in return. All right?”
At that particular moment, she felt more like a naughty child than a guest, but she nodded anyway. “Yes. Yes, of course.”
“Good. Then let’s try this again. Are you ready to go inside, or would you prefer to wait on Bryant and Shannon?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to insist she was ready to go in, but he was stilllookingat her with that single eyebrow raised. Suddenly, she was very certain she did not want to be anything other than completely honest, though she couldn’t exactly pin down why she felt that way. “I want to wait.”
Daddy's Mercy description
Daddy's Mercy All her life, MaryAnn Foster has been a victim.Even the man she thought she’d loved turned out to be a monster, manipulating her, using her in his own sick and twisted games.Now the monster is free again, and he is coming for her. To keep her safe, she’s whisked away by the most gorgeous man she’s ever laid eyes on.A man determined to not only protect her from her past, but to help her heal from it. Under Dean’s watchful eye, she uncovers more and more of the woman she’s always believed she could be if she only had the courage.And when she finally pushes Dean to put her over his knee like a naughty little girl, it’s the first time in her life she’s ever felt so alive.But danger still lurks outside the walls of Dean’s fortress of a home, and when one of MaryAnn’s closest friends disappears, she knows it's time to make a choice. Hide away, turning her back on the love she’s finally found…Or prove once and for all she’s done being the victim....
Who is Daddy's Mercy Author?
Author: Stella Moore
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