Touch of Trouble (Touch Series) (4 page)

No one will be able to guess we've traveled all day, although I definitely feel it. Exhaustion has seeped into my bones—no bath can eliminate that—but perhaps it's a good thing. If I'm tired, maybe it'll numb the anxiety. One can only hope.

"You're so
beautiful, Kayla." His eyes rake over my strapless cocktail dress with desire.

I'd usually
go with a lighter color, but I found the emerald green fitting for the season. Plus, the design is similar to a baby-doll dress—my favorite kind; Nicholas's, too—only a bit more modest. But still cute, with a pretty bow and everything. Someone who is
not
cute is my fiancé. In a charcoal suit and a tie that matches my dress, he's extremely handsome and sexy.

He walks over to his laptop bag; I totally check out his tight butt, and when he returns he has
a flat jewelry box in his hand—larger than one for a necklace, even. "You'll wear a new kind of collar tonight." At my surprised expression, he opens the lid to reveal several pieces of silver jewelry. At least I hope it's silver; he already spends so much money on me.

The horny butterflies are back in my tummy. "A c-collar?" But we aren't scening, are we? It's
a formal family dinner!

And I already have a permanent
one I'm always wearing—a platinum choker only Nicholas has the key to unlock. There's also a small charm, where it says "Daddy Nicholas's Baby Girl" in
teeny
, tiny writing.

"That’s righ
t." Kneeling before me, he gathers my foot and places it on his bent knee, then proceeds to attach a silver bangle around my ankle. "I don’t make empty promises, baby girl—you know that." Next is my other ankle, and I feel the cool metal with just the barest amount of pressure on my skin. Then he slides his hands up my smooth legs. Firmly. Possessing me. Owning me. "I think I need a look." He lifts my dress and starts kissing my upper thighs, all while his right hand caresses my pussy.

"Oh…" I
let out a whine, wanting more. Lots more. "Mmm, Daddy." My hips buck toward him of their own volition as he presses his mouth to my cotton-clad kitty. I really don’t like thongs—hardly ever wear them—but it's necessary for this dress. But at least it's soft cotton.

"There you go
distracting me." The tip of his tongue darts over my clit, followed by a hot breath as he exhales. The warmth sears through my underwear, causing me to squirm. He chuckles huskily and lowers the dress once more. I pout, but he ignores that. "As I was saying…I don’t make empty promises." With his unwavering and intense gaze, he stands up and clasps another bangle on to my right wrist. "As always, you will be my focus, and I promise you will soon look back on this evening and wonder why you were so nervous."

A small, serene smile flits across my lips and I close my eyes briefly. "I trust you, Daddy."

"Good girl." Lastly, he attaches the final bangle to my left wrist and finishes by kissing the tips of my fingers. "Consider the metal as an extension of me tonight." He nips at the pad of my middle finger, hard enough for a quick, sharp sting. "To remind you that I'm right there with you."
Yes
. He nearly lulls me into a comatose state with that voice—smooth, rich, warm, and with the level of command that I need.

Taking a deep breath, I nod, finally ready to face my family—or rather, those who side with Amanda.

I thank Daddy profusely for making me feel better, and then we get ready to go downstairs to the hotel restaurant that my family has reserved for the evening. I slip into a pair of ballet flats that go with my dress and grab my little silver clutch—just as my phone vibrates inside. Opening it, I see that I have a text from Sydney, Nicholas's sister.

I can't help but giggle when I read it.

If Amanda gives you grief, imagine her doing so dressed like a pirate's wench.

"Anything interesting?" Nicholas asks. I grin up at him and show him the screen, to which his mouth twists into a wry little smirk. "My sister certainly has different methods than I do, doesn’t she?" He shakes his head in amusement. "But by all means,
little love."

Okay, wench, here we come.

Now I remember why I only see my family twice or so a year—
Amanda-crap aside. It's because they're an overwhelming bunch of people. The restaurant is
packed
with Brandons—the most common name on my dad's side of the family—Stevens from Uncle Keith's side, and McCallisters from Mom and Aunt Mary's side.

There are also a few associates from the company Uncle Keith runs—that he once started with my dad. It's boring stuff…
mergers and acquisitions.

I'm glad Uncle Keith never changed the company's name. He once said,
"I started it with Henry—that'll never change."
So, the company is still named HBKS Financial.

Anyway…
even though there are so many of us, we work like a well-oiled machine. We have a few days here, so everyone knows there'll be plenty of time to catch up sooner or later. A handful of greetings to the people we pass and we end up at our table. My Gramma Ida is already seated, and I'm more than happy to sit down next to her. There are a couple Michaels, too, and—unfortunately—Aunt Cheryl, Uncle Keith's sister. She's an Amanda shipper.

Speak of the devil and she will appear.

I hear her cackling about something behind me; she and Amber seem to have been assigned to the table next to us.

Nicholas gives my leg a
n affectionate squeeze under the table, reminding me of his presence, and I offer a grateful smile in return. Then I introduce him to my grandmother, who seems enamored of him, yet protective of me. She'd been sick last summer, so she hadn't made it to the wedding.

"Well, now. This must've cost an arm and a leg." Gramma Ida inspects my e
ngagement ring over the rims of her super cool, purple cat-eye glasses. Then she slides her gaze to Nicholas. "And how did you propose, young man?"

"In
Venice, ma'am." Nicholas nods in thanks to the waiter who arrives with our pre-ordered drinks and appetizers. "Kayla told me she hadn’t been able to visit Italy when she went to Europe this spring. After I had found the ring, I wanted to take her there."

"It was
so
romantic, Gramma." I can't keep the excitement out of my voice even if I tried. "We took a gondola ride and everything, and the food was
amazing
." I just know my grandmother will love the book of authentic Italian recipes I bought for her when we were there. "Then when we got back to the hotel, he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him."

"Good. Very good." She's satisfied, I can tell. The man taking a knee is important to her, for some reason. "And you recently moved into a new house together?" Now her full focus is on me, and she palms my cheeks. "Do you get enough food down there in
California?"

I giggle and roll my eyes. "I e
at plenty. Don’t worry—and I love Cali."

A particularly loud round of laughter
shifts my attention to the table next to us, and when I automatically look over my shoulder, I catch Amanda staring at me.

I'd love to say she looks like crap, but that would be a lie. She's still the
statuesque blonde I'm used to, and she's seated between a man I've never met—her date?—and her sister.

"Hello, Drifter." Amanda's
smile is brilliant, but her gaze is cold as ice. "I heard you got engaged. I'm sure it will last
forever
. Because men marry young playthings for love, yes?"

I swallow and fidget with the hem of my dress, wishing I could tear my eyes away, but I'm trapped. In an at
tempt to make myself smaller, my ankles brush together, making the bangles clink.
Nicholas is right next to me
. And in my periphery, I realize he's watching me. Having faith in me. Ready to help, but believing I'm not defenseless.

Emboldened, I straighten
my weakened posture and shrug. "Oh, I hope our engagement won't last forever. Our marriage, on the other hand…"

"Atta girl." So, Gramma Ida is paying attention, too.

Amanda lets out a tinkling laugh, not having heard our grandmother's comment. "Well, I, for one, find your confidence
adorable
. Nick, you sure are good at making women believe in every promise you make. Perhaps you should take pity on my poor little cousin's heart."

Twisting his body so our knees are touching, Nicholas turns to Amanda's table with an expression of mild interest. "I don’t recall gi
ving you any promises, Amanda. I saved those for my fiancée." I bet no one else can see the anger simmering under his surface, but I do. However, he's still too much of a gentleman to be outright rude—at least in public. "I trust Kayla's Christmas won't be ruined by my past mistakes?" He cocks a brow.

"
Mistakes
?" Amanda loses her composure for a second, completely insulted. Her date looks confused, if not frustrated by being out of the loop. "You're calling me a—How can you—"

"I can." Nicholas c
uts her off. "And that’s enough." With that, he faces our table again and holds up a mini crab cake to me. "Let's focus on something better." There's joy in his eyes now.

Beaming b
ack at him, I part my lips and let him slip the small treat into my mouth.

I hum at the deliciousness
of the hors d'oeuvre, but more so at the incredible man beside me.

*

The day before Christmas, I'm thankful I don’t see Amanda at all. While doing some extra shopping to pass time, Nicholas and I do run into Amber and her husband Brian, but she's harmless without her sister. Haughty looks are nothing compared to the vileness Amanda spews.

The rest of
my day is spent lounging around our Christmassy hotel suite with Nicholas, catching up with a few cousins, avoiding looks from those who're on Amanda's side, and having dinner with Gramma Ida, who my fiancé is sure would get along great with Sydney.

He's probably right
.

After
making love on the soft rug in front of the open fire, we go to bed, and I'm in an awesome mood because this trip hasn't sucked at all. There's still tomorrow and the 26
th
, but maybe I can afford to be a little optimistic.

Waking up on Christmas morning, however…no. Just no. Doesn't matter what day it is;
I'm so cranky.

"No…" I pout into my pillow and blindly bat away Daddy's hands. "Stop it. I'm
sleepy
!" I whine and try to pull the covers over my head. Emphasis on
try
.

He ignores my protests, his large hands roaming my naked body. He's naked, too, and he's currently pressing his impressive morning
erection against my butt. It's just…I'm too warm and cuddly to be turned on right now. The room smells of pine, ginger, cloves, and orange—it's like inhaling Christmas, a holiday for snuggling.

"You're being awfully obstinate this morning." His warm, rumbling morning voice tickles my neck as a hand creeps up my stomach to cup my boobs. I'd worry that he's irritated if it
wasn’t for the grin I hear in his tone. "Are you denying Daddy the chance to show his little girl how much he loves her?"

Against my will, my body heats up and a smile threatens to surface. "Maybe Daddy loves her so much that he'll let her sleep in?" I stiffen myself into a stick as I stretch an
d groan and yawn. "Mmm…let's stay here all day."

He chuckles sleepily and rolls me onto my back. "As tempting as that sounds…" His eyes follow the path of his hand trailing down my tummy. "And believe me, it's tempting." He gives my forehead a kiss.
His breath is minty and fresh, I note. Has he been up already? "We have brunch downstairs in a couple hours, dinner tonight, then that gift lottery or whatever your family calls it." Next he kisses my nose. "But—" then my cheeks "—I'm sure we'll have plenty of time under the covers."

I hope so. There's nothing better than this right here.

I'm glad we've all agreed to have some alone time with our immediate family today. Those with kids want to celebrate in private as well, and…let's face it, it would be financially impossible to buy gifts for each family member. That’s why we have our little game at dinner. Everyone has pitched in ten dollars, and a few women, Gramma Ida included, have been in charge of buying ten fairly lavish gifts. It's always gift baskets with themes. For instance, my parents got a basket one time, and it was full of kitchen stuff and food. Recipes, some smaller appliances, a gift card to some high-end delicacy shop, expensive chocolate, and cheese from Switzerland.

I remember giggling and blushing profusely when one of the Marys and her husband took home a basket with a bedroom theme one
year. Pillow cases in Egyptian cotton are nothing to be embarrassed about, but a book about sex positions? Edible panties? Well, I was like twelve, so…

Yawning
and stretching some more, I burrow closer to Daddy's warmth and drop a kiss to his sternum. My fingers draw lazy circles on his chest, feeling his light dusting of hair there and teasing his nipples.