A deep voice sounded from behind Meredith, startling her, and she jumped, dropping her entire sandwich and the plate. The glass shattered as it hit the coffee table and then bounced to the floor. Slices of shredded turkey went…everywhere.
It was him.
Oh fuck.
It was him.
Why was he home now?
Why hadn’t he gone to bed?
And why, oh why, did Meredith suddenly wish he’d punish her for her bad behavior with a spanking?
“Sorry,” she managed to get out. Somehow, it was the only word she could say, and it didn’t seem to be nearly good enough.
Sorry.
It was the type of word she knew was appropriate to use in a situation, but somehow, it didn’t seem to cover everything she ought to be saying.
Sorry.
“Sorry?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Meredith let her eyes roam Daniel’s toned body. He was a cowboy through-and-through. There was no doubt about that, no question. He was wearing a flannel and jeans with a belt buckle as big as her hand. His feet were in socks. He’d obviously taken his boots off by the door to avoid tracking mud through the house.
“Yes,” she whispered, looking back at his eyes. She wanted to lick her lips. Fuck, she wanted to, but she somehow managed to convince her body to listen to her, just this once.
“Meredith, what’s the house policy on food in the living room?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, and she wondered what she was supposed to say now. He seemed to think that her transgression was a pretty big deal, and unfortunately, that didn’t bode well with her. She was a good employee and an incredible nanny. She was always doing everything he asked her to. In fact, she never took time off from her job. Raising Alice was her entire life, and she liked it that way.
What more did he want from her?
Was he really going to flip her shit because she’d gotten a couple of fucking crumbs on his carpet?
It wasn’t like Daniel was going to be bending over backwards to clean up the living room, either, and there wasn’t some sort of live-in maid or anyone who dropped by to tidy up. Nope. All of those responsibilities fell to Meredith, and she never complained about it.
Ever.
Yet here he was, marching in after a long day and demanding that she be perfect.
Well, fuck that.
Meredith had been demure, and she’d been kind, and she’d – mostly – listened to his rules, but things were about to change. They had to. She was ready for them to.
She stood up, ignoring the crumbs, and the spilled sandwich, and the broken plate, and she turned to him. She put her hands on her hips, and she felt her breasts bounce a little when she did. Sure enough, Daniel’s eyes flicked – just for a second – to her bosom.
“What the fuck is your problem?” She snapped.
Daniel looked stunned.
She’d seen him angry with his workers, and he’d always been patient despite his frustrations. She’d seen him with his dates and she’d watched them disappear back into his “private quarters,” which she knew was a code for sex dungeon. She even had seen him when he was frustrated with his daughter, but she’d never seen him like this.
She’d never seen him look quite this shocked.
Not like this.
His eyes narrowed quickly, though, and he moved swiftly to her, grabbed her ponytail, and yanked it backwards before she knew what was happening.
“Ouch!” She cried out, but he didn’t let go. He just looked into her eyes, staring at her, and he watched her. His hold was tight and firm, and he didn’t show any signs of relenting.
“Try again, princess,” he said.