She stiffened. “No.”
“That’s all right, baby,” he said soothingly. “Whatever makes you feel comfortable. You don’t have to have a special stuffy or blankie.”
“I, well, just because I don’t doesn’t mean that I, uh. . .” Shoot. Why was this so hard for her to say? That she wished sometimes that she did have something? That she’d kept some of her toys from her childhood? That she regretted telling Clint to get rid of them all?
Was that what Zekial the knight had? Demons from his past that the princess had to fight?
It was just a story, Eden.
Zeke moved, sliding off the sofa. “Do you have some painkillers for that headache?”
“Yes, in the bathroom cabinet above the sink.”
He returned with the painkiller then walked over to grab the bottle of water from her bedside table. Sitting on the coffee table in front of her, he tipped two pills onto his palm.
She reached for them, but he closed his hand over the pills. Eden frowned, confused.
“Daddy will give them to you, little one. I don’t like you taking pills, you could choke. We’ll have to get you some liquid painkillers from Doc.”
That wouldn’t be happening. For one, she avoided Doc as much as she could. For another, this would likely be the only time Zeke would be taking care of her like this.
“Open up.”
She wasn’t sure how she felt about this, but he just waited patiently, a look of caring on his face. If he’d gone all bossy, she would have fought him. But kind and caring Zeke was doing one hell of a job on her shields.
Spend too much time with him and she had no doubts he’d smash his way on through them. No, he’d do a sneak attack. And that would be so much worse.
He held the bottle to her mouth and she drank, swallowing the pill. Yuck. She grimaced.
“You don’t like pills, baby girl?”
She shook her head. “No. Gross. One’s enough.” She stared down at the other pill he held up.
“No, princess. Have another one. I want you to get a good night’s sleep and you won’t do that with a headache.”
She took the next pill obediently, basking in his approving look.
“That’s my good girl.”
She closed her eyes as he stood to put the bottle of water and painkillers on the bedside table. He was killing her. Slowly. This side of Zeke wasn’t one she’d experienced before. His kindness and caring could destroy her in ways his hard words never could.
Toast. She was toast.
He leaned down to carefully pick her up, carrying her bridal style to the bed. Her covers were already pulled back. He must have done that while she was getting ready in the bathroom.
He paused before he laid her down. “Did
you go potty?”
Her face went bright red. He did not just say that.
“Little girl, Daddy asked you a question.”
“You can’t ask me questions like that!” she managed to get out.
“‘Course I can,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m your daddy.”
For now.