Greg had never been so thankful for twenty-four-hour stores before in his life. Nora had finally fallen asleep around two in the morning, after several more hours of tossing and turning and grumbling to herself.

He hadn’t gone into the bedroom after she stormed out of the living room, casting him to the couch. An argument wouldn’t get her to sleep, and it would only fuel his desire to strap her down and make her answer his questions honestly.

Once he was sure she was sound asleep, he scribbled a note about where he was going, locked up the cabin, and headed into town.

By the time he pulled back up to the cabin, the sun had started to rise. No time to admire the coloring of the sky, though. He needed to get the food inside. A handful of chips and a beer didn’t really count as a meal. And if he was hungry, she had to be as well.

Nora still slept when he checked on her. Sleeping on her side, one arm flung over her face while the other was tucked under the quilt. Her hair had dried into curls and they were cascading over her face. She looked a mess.

Even more beautiful than the day before.

With a shake of his head to get his mind back on track, he closed the door and went back to putting the groceries away. He’d bought her some shorts and T-shirts, and he’d give them to her after she apologized for her behavior last night.

He might not be able to spank her for her actions, but he sure as hell wouldn’t just allow them to pass either.

Pausing as he put the jar of applesauce in the pantry, he cursed at himself. He sounded like someone invested. And he wasn’t supposed to be getting invested. He was supposed to be finding her a safe house, somewhere to hide out until it all blew over. Not with him.

He wasn’t equipped to protect anyone.

Finishing putting everything away, he grabbed his phone to call Blake. He needed that name, a number. Hell, maybe he should ask John to come home and take care of the situation.

Three missed calls from Blake.

“Hey, what’s up? You’re up early.” Greg looked at the digital clock on the stove. Nearly six.

“So, after you left yesterday, I did some digging. Called in a few favors to get some intel for you.”

Greg leaned his hip against the counter. His brother would never stop being the big brother, not matter how old Greg got.

“Did you find me someone who can help get her somewhere safe?” Greg countered. That’s what he needed to do, stick to his original plan, not dig himself deeper in the hole with her. Besides, she was nothing but trouble.

“She is somewhere safe. She’s with you.” Blake’s flat tone grated on Greg.

“Blake—”

“Do you really want me to call John? He’ll come home but it will take at least a day.” John rarely took vacations; calling him home for something he could handle himself would be selfish.

Completely selfish.

“Yes. I do.” Greg nodded to himself. “No. Of course not.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. He should have never knocked on that fucking flower store door. He should have seen it was locked and just kept walking.

It had been her.

Seeing her through the window, sitting at the counter looking so fucking—well, fuckable.

“What did you find out?”

“First, you’re an asshole. Second, hold on a second—” Blake talked off the phone at Bella. Greg would get annoyed except it sounded like his little niece was doing a fine job of irritating her dad for him.

“Blake,” Greg said after silence stretched between them.

“Yeah. I’m here. Sorry. Okay. This girl, Nora? Her full name is Elenora Santucci. She’s the daughter of Elliott Santucci.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Greg peeked down the hall. Door was still closed.

“Probably not. About a year ago, he was killed. Two years before that he was sentenced to ten years for money laundering.”

“So, he was killed in prison?”

“No. His lawyer did some fancy footwork, got him off in the appeal. Never made it inside a cell.”

“Speed this up, what does any of this have to do with Nora now?”

“From what I found out, it’s suspected Antonio, the flower shop owner, is the one who took him out.”

“Was Elliott working with the DA?” Greg asked.

“No. As far as I know, after he got off on the laundering charge, he stayed clean. No other arrests or investigations.”

“Okay, so he gets off, goes home, and two years later some old associates take him out? And then a year after that, his daughter goes to work for the guy thought to have been responsible. Am I getting this straight, because I haven’t had coffee yet.” It was too much to take in. Nora was out for revenge?

“That’s what I found out.” Blake sounded pretty pleased with himself. Probably from having a few minutes that he wasn’t playing super dad.

“She said she’s a journalist—or trying to be.”

“Well, maybe she was going to take him down by exposing him?” Blake offered.

“Yeah. Maybe. But I think it’s time I found out.”

“Greg... Greg. Wait.”

The door to the bedroom opened and Greg squared off with the girl he thought was so innocent. So fucking pure. Convinced she’d just gotten in over her head with her stupid story. Now, looking at her, seeing her rub the sleep from her eyes, wearing his T-shirt, he realized when the brothers said they had business with her, they didn’t mean her harm. They probably wanted their payment.

“What?” Greg snapped at his brother.

“Calm down before you talk to her. You’re jumping to conclusions, just talk to her and see what she says.”

His eyes met hers. Those pouty lips he wanted to kiss so badly the night before parted, and fear, real fear crept into her features.

“Okay.” Greg clicked off the call before Blake could say anything else.

“Greg?” Nora’s voice was so small, so innocent. She’d used the same tone last night, trying to convince him to show her his playroom.

Calm ran through his body.

“Nora. I’m going to ask you one more time, give you one more chance to tell me the full truth.”

“Not this again.” She huffed, her whole attitude wasn’t in it, more of a show, but that didn’t matter. It was exactly the spark needed to light the fire.

“Yes, this again. And just so we’re completely clear with each other.” He stalked up to her, ignoring the small flinch she gave as he neared her, and snatched up her arm. She tried to pull away, but he didn’t give an inch.

He threw open the door to the playroom and pushed her inside. She stumbled a step but righted herself, shoving her bedhead hair from her eyes. Eyes that widened when she saw the crate. Eyes that swept across the room at his extensive collection of heavy floggers hanging from one wall. Eyes that roamed finally to him with fear building along with unshed tears.

“Honest girls get to sit comfortably in the cabin. Little liars...” He gave a purposeful look at the crate. “Don’t.”

“What happened? Why are you acting so crazy?” she asked, taking a small step back. There was no escape from the room. Not that he had planned it that way. The girls he took to the cabin weren’t looking for that sort of escape.

“Do you understand the rules?” He stood in the doorway, giving her no hope of getting out of the room.

“No. I don’t understand any of this.”

“It’s simple. If you tell the truth, we’ll figure all this mess out. If you lie to me again—because you’ve been doing nothing but that since we met—you’ll get your ass lit on fire and you’ll spend some time thinking about what you did wrong.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at her.

Most women when faced with his disappointment quickly came to terms they had nothing but to do except submit. Either they quickly apologized, and everything moved forward, or they at least accepted a punishment was coming. But those women knew him. They were aware of his stern side. It’s what drew them to him in the first place.

Nora wasn’t those women. She’d probably never seen a spanking bench before yesterday, and now she was being threatened with having her ass tanned and being locked up in a crate. He probably looked like a madman to her, but she didn’t have good coloring over her character at the moment either.

And if he was going to get in this and go balls deep into protecting someone again, he had to be damn sure he knew who they were. He had to fucking know he could trust every word uttered from those pretty, pink, pouting lips of hers.

“I already told—”

“That’s one. Not a good sign, Nora. Now, tell me the real reason you were working at the flower shop. What do you know about Antonio?”

Her stare worked over him, searching maybe with too much hope that she’d find the little crack to burrow her way in. It wasn’t going to happen.

After a long stretch of silence, Greg dropped his hands and walked over to the wall with the floggers. He plucked up the lightest of the bunch; holding the weight of the handle in his hand calmed him. This was something he could do. He knew well how to do this.

“One more chance, Nora,” he said, turning to her. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d run from the room, but she hadn’t. She’d stayed right where she was, though the redness was back in her cheeks. But he doubted it was because of any timidity that might be lurking in her soul. No, the girl was getting herself all wound up.

Because she was going to have to tell him the truth? Or because she was going to have to face the consequences of lying?

He didn’t really care in that moment, he only wanted her obedience, her fucking honesty.

“You can’t hit me with that thing,” she stammered, pointing at the black flogger he held. The falls were pretty light compared to the rest of his collection, perfect for a first timer like Nora.

“Of course I can. I can spank you with it, whip you with it, punish you with it, pleasure you with it. It’s quite the multi-tasking tool.” He held up the handle, so the leather falls cascaded down over his arm.

“I don’t understand.” She shook her head again, wiping the heels of her hands across her eyes. Like maybe if she could clear the fog from her eyes the situation would be different. It wouldn’t work, but he couldn’t blame her for trying.

“Here’s the thing, Nora. I had hoped to get you safely away from those assholes, set you up with a detective that was completely clean and trustworthy, and get you paired up with a personal security detail until the whole thing was over.” He stepped toward her. “But, I got some information this morning that tells me it’s probably better not to get the cops involved yet. And the personal security—well, turns out it’s going to have to be me.”

Her top lip disappeared into her mouth, pinched between her teeth.

“So, last chance and then you’ll be spending some time with my flogger before getting another one, what were you really doing working at the flower shop?”

Nora’s gaze flickered between the flogger in his hand to his face. He knew the signs well; she was panicked, and going to run.

Part of him hoped she did.

The dark part. The part he promised himself he would work on controlling, on keeping deep inside. Being a sadist didn’t bother him, he’d learn to accept the urges, but this—this need to see her broken. It made his cock hard, his heart race with adrenaline. It made him feel alive.

“There’s nowhere to go.” It was obvious. She had to have seen that when she saw all the woods surrounding the cabin. She wore only his shirt, no shoes; even if she had on full running gear it would take hours to get somewhere useful.

“I won’t let you do this.” The forced bravado impressed him. She could have easily gone with sobs and pleas for mercy. He liked that she had some fight in her. It would make her fall all the sweeter.

“I’m not giving you a choice. You threw all that away when you lied and kept lying. Now all you can do is give me the truth. Or, climb over that bench over there.”

She looked at the door, then back at the bench.

“If you run, I’ll catch you and we’ll start all over again.”

“Dammit!” She stomped a foot. “I was just working for him to get information.” The words tumbled out in a loud, frustrated blob.

“Keep talking,” he urged, taking another step to her.

“That’s it. I was just trying to get information. I already told you, for—”

“Oh. We’re sticking with the journalist story.” He nodded. “Got it.”

Choice made.

He grabbed her upper arm and dragged her across the room, past the spanking bench to the wooden horse. It would make securing her easier.

“No! I told you!”

“You’re still lying.” He dropped the flogger to the floor and pushed her over the bench, reaching over her quickly to keep her pinned down so he could find the cuffs he’d left dangling.

“Don’t do this, Greg. Don’t!” she yelled at him, twisting her body and trying to kick him.

Once both wrists were bound, he left her to find the ankle cuffs. He wasn’t about to risk being kicked.

After all, she was the one being punished. Not him.

“You can’t do this. Don’t. Please, Greg.” Her voice softened, but the demand still lurked there. “You can’t!”

He grabbed the cuff set he sought from the cabinet and turned to face her. The shirt had already ridden up her back, exposing her round buttocks. No panties. She hadn’t worn any panties to bed.

Fuck.

“I can. And I will.”