Five weeks later

I can’t believe this is my life now. How did this happen? A few weeks ago, I was just little old Skye Warren – an ordinary girl, living an ordinary life – with, however, an extraordinary problem.

All of that has now changed.

Heck, the only ordinary thing left about me is that I actually can orgasm now, and I do – as often, as powerfully, and in as close proximity to the previous wave of pleasure that wracked through my body as I can arrange.

Luckily, I’ve got a man who’s more than willing to oblige.

The last few weeks have been something of a learning curve. I’ve been learning all about my body, about things most women just take for granted.

But for me, everything is new. Every sex position feels different. I’m on a personal mission to try them all, just to be sure. Better safe than sorry. That’s my motto.

Now, I’m not going to lie. Harlan’s not just talented, but he’s got a cock to match. It’s so it has to be seen to be believed, and even then, I still blink twice.

“Today’s the day,” Harlan says, approaching me from behind and squeezing me. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Ready?” I squeak, my voice catching in my throat like a teenage boy going through puberty. “Are you kidding? I’m about to wet myself!”

“Aw,” Harlan grins, with that smile he gets when he knows exactly what I’m talking about, but wants to play games on me. “She’s not so bad. Just a kid, still – heck, she’s only what, nine?”

I cock my head to one side, narrowing my eyes and stare daggers at the man I love. In moments like this, it’s hard to remember why.

“You know perfectly well, Harlan Wolfe,” I mutter. “Your daughter is ten years old.”

“Oh,” Harlan crows. “That’s right. Because you refused point blank to come to her birthday party…”

I spin around and punch Harlan in the arm. Gently.

“As you know perfectly well, I would have loved to have come!” I squeal, irritated beyond belief by the words coming out of Harlan’s mouth. He knows how to push my buttons better than anyone I’ve ever met.

Unfortunately for me, not just in bed.

Harlan bites his lip, and rakes my body with his gaze. “As I recall,” he winks, “you did last night, five times.”

“That’s not what we’re talking about, and you know it,” I mutter. I can’t help the dreamy smile that teases my lips as I remember the wave after wave of pleasure Harlan inflicted on me only a few hours before.

“Oh?” He growls, hiking his eyebrow up. “Remind me.”

I pout. “Poppy, remember. I was saying it wouldn’t have been appropriate for me to turn up to her party after knowing you for what, a week?”

Harlan frowns. “But she’s going to love you!”

“That’s not the issue, Harlan, and you know it. You can’t just introduce a kid to all the women in your life. What would–”

Harlan stifles my outburst with a kiss. He presses his lips against mine, and kisses me with intensity, passion and desire.

“I don’t introduce her to all the women in my life,” he growls when he finally breaks away from his grip on my lips. “There are no other women. You are the only one, Skye – and that’s the way it’s going to be. Forever.”

I try and maintain a frown so that Harlan knows how seriously I feel about this.

But it’s hard.

His face has a boyish charm that it’s difficult to resist. Heck, there’s nothing about Harlan Wolfe that I’m capable of resisting. But I have to try.

“But how do you know?” I ask, clinging to Harlan’s body. “What if she doesn’t like me, if she thinks I’m trying to replace Ashley? Or –” my face blanches as I dream up an even worse horror, “if she thinks I’m trying to steal you away from her?”

I can’t bring myself to say what I truly fear, but it sticks with me regardless – a needle in my side, prodding me every time I try to imagine a future with this wonderful man.

Who would you choose – me or her?

I know there’s only one answer to that question. There’s only one answer I would ever want to hear. I could never be with a man who would choose a woman over his own daughter. But that’s easy to say, less easy to live through.

All I want is to commit to Harlan Wolfe, to marry him, and to live with him forever. But I’m terrified, because none of that is in my control.

It’s under Poppy’s.

Besides, I’m not the kind of girl who’s happy to steam in to someone else’s life. If Poppy doesn’t like me, I’m not going to play with Harlan’s emotions. I won’t manipulate him into speaking to his daughter on my behalf. I’d never do that.

But that leaves me in limbo – Waiting –

– For today.

Harlan pulls away from me, places his hands on my upper arms, and grips me tight. He looks baffled, as though he wants to shake some sense into me.

“Poppy’s the nicest, kindest, most beautiful kid I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says. I can tell from the faraway look on his face that he’s speaking directly from the heart.

“And you’re the most beautiful woman I know – you’re the woman who saved my life –” he cuts me off from talking, “and don’t you dare attempt to deny it. I wasn’t about to end up in the gutter, but I was on a downward spiral before I met you, Skye. You saved me – believe that. Believe in yourself.”

“I do,” I whisper, although I’m not sure it’s true.

“She’s going to love you, Skye. She’s going to love you because you’re good for me. You make me a better man, and a better father. And you know what? You know the last reason she’s going to love you?”

“What?” I croak through a broken, clenched throat.

“She’s going to love you because I love you, Skye. I love you like I thought I never would again. I thought my heart was broken – walled off. That it couldn’t feel like this anymore. But you proved that wrong. You proved me wrong. For that, I’ll be forever grateful.”

Harlan’s lips meet mine. This time, his kiss is gentle and caring. I can tell he means every word he says.

He breaks away. “So will Poppy. Are you ready to meet her?”

I bite my lip, and not quickly. I think – for now at least – I’m going to keep my first meeting with Poppy, via video chat, our little secret.

* * *

I step out of Harlan’s black limousine. It’s crazy how ordinary living this kind of life already seems. Six weeks ago, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you what the inside of a limousine looked like if you had put a gun to my head.

Now? I can pretty much recount every detail, down to the thread count of the seats’ leather stitching.

“Is she here already?” I ask, clutching Harlan’s arm. “I’m nervous…”

It’s true. I am. I’ve spoken to Poppy once before, but this is different. Then, I was scared for Harlan’s life, my head spinning as I came face-to-face – or screen to screen – with his beautiful daughter.

So I guess in a lot of ways, nothing has changed.

“You don’t say,” Harlan grins. He gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Chill. She’s going to love you. Hell, she can’t wait. It’s all she’s talked about all week! I told her not to get so excited. You’re okay, I guess…”

I pinch Harlan’s arm and shoot him daggers. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He glances ostentatiously at his wristwatch. “She’s here. Her driver brought her straight from school. And we had best hurry. She doesn’t like to be kept waiting…”

Harlan winks at me, making sure I know he’s joking, but he only adds to my nervousness. It’s so easy for him! Poppy loves him unconditionally, like I do. I bet he can’t imagine she’d think any other way.

Except, what if she does? What if she decides I’m stealing her father away, or that we’re dishonoring her mother’s memory? I don’t know what I’d do.

We walk up to the restaurant foyer. It’s a place called Mabel’s. I’ve read about it somewhere – the review section of the New York Times, maybe, but before I met Harlan, I never imagined I would step inside. Heck, even an entrée in a place like this probably costs more than a month’s rent.

Not anymore, I remind myself.

Because, from tomorrow – and assuming this meeting with Poppy goes well – I’m going to be moving in and living with the man I love.

So there’s no pressure or anything.

“You’re late,” are the first words that come out of Poppy’s stern, ten-year-old lips as we’re ushered to our table. She frowns at us, and then grins. “I thought they were going to take our table away!”

“No way, kiddo,” Harlan says, striding forward and ruffling his daughter’s hair affectionately. “Besides, I’d like to see them try and make you move…”

Poppy stands up politely and smiles at me. She looks so innocent. I wonder if she knows how fast my heart is beating!

“You must be Skye,” she says, shooting me the subtlest of winks out of the corner of her eye. It’s almost too much to take. She’s acting like a woman my age, not a ten-year-old! But I guess she’s her father’s daughter, in more ways than one. “Pleased to meet you.”

My hand jerks up, and I have to make a conscious effort to force it down. There’s no way I’m shaking hands with Harlan’s daughter…

“So you’re the famous Poppy I’ve heard so much about,” I say, playing along as though we’ve never spoken before.

For the first time, Poppy acts like the child that she really is. “Really?” She squeaks, shooting a look at her dad. “You told her about me? Daa-ad!”

Harlan grins. “Only good things, I promise,” he says. “Come on – let’s sit down.”

I can’t stop my knee from jangling under the table. I don’t usually have a restless leg, but I don’t know how to stop it right now. I feel like so much pressure is riding on this one meal – basically my entire future with Harlan.

He loops his arm around my shoulder, pulls me in tight and whispers into my ear. “Relax,” he says softly. “She loves you.”

Poppy’s ears prick up. “It’s true,” she grins back – obviously eavesdropping – and completely unashamed about it. “I am relaxed and I do.”

My cheeks flush red with mild embarrassment. I can’t believe how precocious this young girl is. I was nowhere near as mature, calm, or composed at her age as she is now.

I feel like I’m at a job interview. In truth, this meal is way more stressful than any sit down with a future boss, because I only get one shot at this. Either Poppy likes me, or she doesn’t. If she doesn’t, that’s it…

“So, Pop,” Harlan starts, finally brushing the reason why we’ve come for lunch. “I wanted to ask you something. Skye did as well…”

Poppy lays her cutlery against her plate with a flourish. The tinkling sound it makes rings out like a bell, signifying – to me at least – the end of my relationship with Harlan. My throat clenches.

“We don’t want you to feel any pressure at all,” Harlan continues. “And I know that this is a lot to ask, and–”

Poppy grins. “Yes.”

“–And that it’s just been us, you and me, all these years since your mom died. But, we wanted to know if–”

“Dad,” Poppy groans, tipping her head back and shaking it furiously until her hair flies in a cloud about her face. “Didn’t you hear? I already told you – yes!”

Harlan blinks twice in quick succession. It’s not often that I see my boyfriend – or whatever I’m supposed to call him – flummoxed, but this is one of those rare times. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. His daughter is a chip off the old block.

“But you didn’t even hear the question yet,” he says.

Poppy rolls her eyes. “Dad, it’s obvious,” she says with all the frustration with adults’ comprehension that a ten-year-old can muster. “You want to know if I’m okay with Skye moving in with us. And I told you already. Yes.”

“You’re serious?” I blurt out. “You’re not playing with me?”

Poppy shakes her head, smiling mischievously. “Nuh-uh. It would be nice to have a girl to live with. Dad’s okay, I guess… but he’s terrible at braiding my hair …”

I turn back to Harlan with very real surprise on my face. Really, though, I’m just doing my best to hide my shock from Poppy.

“You braid?”

Harlan shrugs, looking bashful. “Not that well, apparently.”

The rest of the meal disappears in a flash. It feels like I blink twice, and Harlan’s already paying the bill. I feel like I must be living inside a dream world. Surely it’s not possible to be this happy?

I half expect someone to turn a corner at any minute and tell me it was all a joke, a reality television show. But the longer it doesn’t happen, the longer the rug doesn’t get pulled out from underneath me, I slowly begin to realize that this is no television show.

It’s real.

I get to keep Harlan for the rest of my life.

“Race you to the car!” Poppy yells. She power walks to the restaurant’s front door, and the second it’s polite to do so, she breaks into a sprint.

I start after her. “Relax!” Harlan says for the second time today. The second time this meal. “Look, Stan’s out there. She’ll be fine.”

My heart thuds in my chest. It’s strange, I’ve only known Poppy – in person, at least – for a few minutes, and yet I’m already terrified for her safety. I wonder if this is what being a parent is all about.

Harlan grabs me by the wrist and tugs me gently back as Poppy nears the waiting limousine.

“There’s one last thing,” he says – his face more solemn than I’ve seen it in a long while. It’s as if he’s struggling to figure out how to get out the words. I realize that whatever he wants to tell me – it must be serious – because he’s not acting like the Harlan I’ve come to know and love.

“Spit it out,” I grin.

“It’s–” he chews his lip. “It’s about your father.”

My stomach tumbles. I feel like I’m on a runaway roller coaster, speeding from one of the happiest moments of my life, straight down to one of the worst.

“What about him?” I groan, hiding my face in my hands. “What’s he done now?”

“Nothing serious,” Harlan assures me, holding my chin and staring at me with those glittering, ice gray eyes.

“I promise. But I wanted to ask you something. A friend of mine from the service, he couldn’t handle the bad dreams, the PTSD. I guess that’s what they call it now. He didn’t have a sexy psychiatrist to fix him,” he grins reassuringly at me.

“Instead he turned to alcohol and pills – whatever he could get to take the edge off his fears – to get him to sleep at night. Anyway – he ended up homeless–”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, cutting across Harlan’s story.

“Don’t be,” Harlan says, squeezing my hand. “I got him off the streets, and found this rehab program for him to enter. It’s coupled with this new experimental drug trial, and the early results are out of this world.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

It’s as if I’m seeing the first glittering of light at the end of the tunnel – but I don’t want to get my hopes up. I’ve had them dashed against the rocks of my father’s alcoholism so many times before.

“It’s a residential program,” Harlan says. “With a 90% success rate – if they can stick out the first month. I’ve made some calls, and your father has a place. If he wants it … that’s all.”

Harlan looks at me with a combination of expectancy, and a hint of anxiety. He looks like he’s wondering whether he has overstepped his bounds.

I fly towards him, pressing my lips against his, and kiss him fiercely. It’s as if I’m in a vacuum, and Harlan’s mouth is my only source of life, of oxygen. I don’t care about Mabel’s customers seeing us, not anymore.

“Yes,” I whisper, “a thousand times, yes. How the heck did I find a man like you, Harlan? I can’t believe you’d think to do something like that for me. Did I ever tell you how much I love you?”

“Any time,” he grins, letting out the tiniest reassured sigh. “Seriously – I was worried I messed everything up somehow.”

“You?” I choke, tears welling up in my eyes.

I wipe them away, ashamed at my weakness. It’s just, I’ve never felt anywhere close to being this happy. It’s like every dream I ever had has been realized. It’s not the money, not the trinkets, not the fancy cars or expensive artwork on the walls of Harlan’s expensive penthouse.

It’s none of that. It’s just, him. Him and Poppy, the life he’s built for the pair of them – and now for me.

And then I do something completely, utterly, unbelievably crazy. My lips move before my brain has a chance to pull them back.

“Can I ask you something, Harlan?” I say, voice cracking as I hear my own audacity.

“Always,” he grins. “Shoot.”

“I know this isn’t supposed to be how it happens, but I – I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else–”

“That’s good to hear…”

I frown at him, and he presses his hand over his mouth, zipping it tight. “I’m serious. You made me happier than I’ve been since I was a kid, since before all of this started. So I want to know something. Will you–” I choke, then power forward on a surge of energy that wells up from out of nowhere.

“Will you marry me?”

Harlan’s eyes flare with shock. He looks at me, stunned. His mouth opens and shuts – a bit like a goldfish. But the sexiest goldfish I’ve ever seen…

But for all that slippery sexiness, Harlan is still stunned into silence. It might well be the first time in his life he hasn’t been able to reach for an easy joke.

And suddenly, I’m at a disadvantage. I don’t know where that request came from. I’ve known Harlan for what, six weeks? This is just lust, not love – surely.

No.

My jaw sets with determination, because I know the truth. I know myself. Whatever Harlan’s response, I know I wasn’t wrong to ask. He changed my life. He sacrificed for me when no one else would, and when he didn’t have to. So whatever his decision, even if it breaks me, I’ll understand.

Even so – my anxious brain stammers and stutters to fill the empty silence. “Not now, I mean,” I say nervously.

“But some time. Someday. It’s just… I don’t want to spend my life searching for any other man. I found him. I love you, Harlan, and nothing’s ever going to change that.”

Harlan takes a pace towards me, holds one finger up and presses it against my lips. I flinch, anticipating the only word I can imagine him saying: no.

But he doesn’t.

“This –” he says, turning his head to one side curiously, “Isn’t supposed to be how it works. I’m supposed to ask you, not the other way around …”

My eyes fix on his. I don’t see anything other than those glittering, caring, gray orbs. I try to predict what he’s going to say – how he’s going to let me down, but it’s impossible. He’s a sphinx.

“Just tell me,” I say, unable to conceal the stress cracking my voice. “Put me out of my misery, already.”

Harlan leans towards me, his forehead wrinkling. “You think it’s going to be that bad,” he winks. “Marrying me?”

This time it’s my eyes’ turn to flare with shock. Even when I proposed to Harlan, part of me – most of me – didn’t expect him to say yes. So now, I’m shocked into silence.

“That’s a yes,” he growls, removing his finger from my lips and replacing it with his own. He kisses me again, again not caring about the startled looks from the assorted diners behind us. “I’m just annoyed I didn’t get to ask you first…”

So that’s it.

My feet fill with an unbelievable lightness, my stomach is filled with butterflies. I don’t care what happens to me now. I don’t know what lies in my future. I don’t know if I’ll go back to my job, or just spend the next decade traveling the world with Harlan and Poppy. Most of all, I couldn’t care less if the medical board finds out I had a relationship with a patient.

I’ll sign whatever disclaimer I need to sign, because I’m not Harlan’s therapist anymore.

I’m his fiancée.