American library books Β» Other Β» The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) πŸ“•

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told. Exceeept,” he drawls out the word and a hot shiver runs through me. β€œYou weren’t very focused at the orientation. Four demerits, Miss Martin.”

I look up at him with every ounce of fake contrition I can muster. β€œDo I get detention?”

He chuckles. β€œOh, little girl, I have something far worse than detention planned for you.”

I nearly jump him right there in the middle of the embarkation lounge. β€œPlease, tell me? Sir, please?”

β€œNo, you’ll have to be patient, greedy baby. You’ve had your own way all day today, but you’re in the doghouse now, so Daddy will tell you when he’s good and ready.” At my pout, he shakes his head and says, β€œTime to get changed for dinner, mischief maker. Cocktails at the captain’s table start at six. I realize you only finished eating lunch two hours ago—”

I stick my tongue out at him.

He pulls me tight to him and lets me feel the hard bar of his arousal against my stomach. β€œStick that tongue out at me again tonight and I’ll clamp it. You want to sit at the captain’s table with your tongue clamped so everyone can see what a cheeky, disrespectful girl you’ve been?”

β€œNo, Sir.” I’m immediately repentant and remorseful. For real. I wasn’t disrespecting him. Just being playful. I immediately drop to my knees, and then bow so my forehead touches one of his oxblood lace-ups. β€œSorry, Sir.”

β€œCount to sixty, Emily. Then stand and try that apology again.”

β€œYes, Sir.” I shuffle a little to get in a position I can hold for that long. Then I start counting, quietly but aloud, so he can hear me.

As I’m reaching the thirties, another pair of men’s shoes appears in my peripheral vision. These are black, scuffed, and thick-soled. β€œLogan,” the man says, with a very slight German accent.

β€œMichael,” Logan responds, and I feel him shift his weight as the men shake hands over my head.

β€œAnd this dear girl on a time-out, is this Emily?” the man asks.

β€œIt is. When she’s had a minute to remember how to be respectful, she’s going to stand and apologize and then I’ll introduce you.”

β€œExcellent, excellent. I understand you’re joining us at the captain’s table tonight. I’ll introduce you to my wife, Teresa. Have you met Captain Lopez yet?”

β€œNo, not yet.” Logan pauses as I finish counting. β€œEmily, are you ready to give me a proper apology?”

β€œYes, Sir,” I whimper.

β€œStand, put your hands behind your back, and apologize.”

Despite the embarrassment of having to apologize in front of an audience, I do, clasping my hands behind me and keeping my head down, eyes lowered. β€œI’m very sorry I stuck my tongue out at you, Sir. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

β€œBetter,” Logan says. My heart clenches; he hasn’t called me his good girl. I look up at him anxiously. He’s watching me, not smiling, but his eyes are black, crackling with fire. The heat in them burns away my fear. He’s aroused, not angry. β€œTurn around and curtsey to Dr. Michael Lehmann. Hands behind your back.”

I turn and curtsey to the fifty-something man behind me. He’s wearing black chinos with a heavy silver belt and a charcoal, button-down shirt. He looks like any of the passengers, and I wonder if he’s off-duty.

I wonder whether he wears a pink thong when he’s not.

β€œIt’s nice to meet you, Dr. Lehmann,” I say. β€œI’m Emily Martin.”

He nods instead of shaking, which is good because Logan’s closed his hand around my wrists and is holding them crossed at the small of my back. I don’t think he’s letting go any time soon, either. God, so domly. I settle into his hold, the way I’ve been taught, letting my shoulders relax.

β€œIt’s a pleasure to meet you, Emily.”

β€œMichael’s the staff doctor who’s assisting the investigation,” Logan says to me. β€œHe’s sailing with us as far as Cabo.”

I nod and give the doctor a hesitant smile. He smiles back, white teeth in a square face edged by a grey-touched beard. β€œIf you need anything while you’re aboard, Emily, come and find me. My office is on deck four, room five-fifty-two. Do you know how to find the room numbers on the ship?”

I shake my head and look to Logan, who shakes his head, too.

β€œCome, let me show you.”

The doctor leads us over to a closed door behind the Puerto Vallarta excursions kiosk. He points to a small, silver plaque at the bottom of the door frame on the right side. The plaque is etched with numbers: 377.

β€œEvery room on the ship has a number. They’re numbered sequentially, not by deck like the cabins. Do you understand?”

I nod. β€œThank you, Dr. Lehmann.”

β€œYou’re very welcome. I’ll look forward to seeing you two at dinner.”

The doctor shakes Logan’s hand again before he leaves us.

β€œHave you ever been on a ship this big, Sir?” I ask Logan as he steers me towards the stairs by my wrists.

β€œNo. It’s a monster, isn’t it? I served on subs and gunboats. They’re small by necessity.” He gestures to the distant ceiling as we start up the stairs. The lounge is massive: three floors high and so wide it didn’t feel crowded with two hundred plus passengers gathered for the orientation. β€œLots of space to explore. Lots of places to get lost in, so when you’re not in the cabin, I expect you to always carry your phone, Emily.”

β€œYes, Sir.” It’s an easy promise to make since I always carry it with me.

β€œI won’t be able to answer my phone all the time. Especially not when I’m doing interviews,” Logan explains as we climb the stairs. β€œBut I’ll keep it on vibrate and carry it here.” He pats his breast pocket. β€œYou’ll always be able to reach me.”

β€œThank you, Sir.” I smile up at him, so he knows how much it means to me to always be able to reach my daddy.

* * *

When we get back to the cabin, Logan dresses me again, taking a white dress from the closet in his room, which he

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