He smiled. “Nice try, but you’l have to be more specific than that.”

My hope faltered, and I shifted on the sofa, leaning forward to mirror his pose.

“Meaning what?”

“Name the later date.”

“But I don’t know when we’l find them. Soon, hopefully, but I’m not psychic, Daddy.”

Michael chuckled, and I glanced away from Daddy long enough to glare at him.

“You don’t have to be psychic,” my father said. “You just have to be explicit.

The key to negotiation lies in stipulating the details.”

I barely resisted rolling my eyes. I’d heard that line at least a dozen times since my twelfth birthday, but I merely nodded, playing the part I’d signed on for.

“Let’s set the date of your decision for the day after the last missing girl is found, in case Sara and Abby are found separately or someone else disappears between now and then. And if we find the girls before we catch the jungle stray, you have to put off your decision until he can be found and disposed of.”

“Fine.” I had no problem with that because I agreed with Marc’s theory that the jungle cat was involved in the abductions. “So—for the record—if I agree to wait until the abductors and the trespasser are caught and disposed of, you’l forgo the twenty-four-hour babysitting?”

He sat back in his chair, considering, and for a moment I thought I’d won.

Then he spoke and I realized what a fool I’d been to think he’d go easy on me.

“Your agreement to put off your decision is good enough to keep you out of the cage, but the chaperone is nonnegotiable.”

My jaw dropped, anger blazing through me. “Then you haven’t conceded anything! You would have caged me even if I hadn’t agreed to put off my decision.”

“You’re right.” His voice took on an instructional quality, as if he were addressing a class ful of students instead of one very angry daughter. “Another important principle of negotiation is knowing when you have the upper hand and when your opponent has it. And right now, I have the upper hand.”

I shrugged. “So there’s no reason for me to wait.”

“How about this.” He couldn’t keep satisfaction from his face. He loved putting me through hell! “Round-the-clock supervision, with restroom privacy on a trial basis?”

“No way. That’s bullshit,” I cried, pounding on the arm of the couch. I hadn’t even realized bathroom privacy was an issue, and I certainly wasn’t going to use it as a bargaining chip. He had no right to, either.

Michael started to object to my tone, because whether he was acting as my father or my Alpha, no one got away with cussing at Greg Sanders. But Daddy held his palm up for silence, cutting off Michael’s protest without a word.

“No, that’s compromise,” he said to me. “If you were not wil ing to put off your decision, I’d offer you no privacy at al . I’m sure Jace would be happy to observe your shower to head off any attempts to crawl through the bathroom window.”

I cringed. “Daddy, how could you say something like that?”

“I’m not your father. I’m your Alpha.” His smile was gone; he was absolutely serious. And he wasn’t going to give in on the watchdog issue. “Whether you believe it or not, even Jace has the ability to concentrate solely on the job at hand. I wouldn’t employ him if he didn’t.” He shrugged, but the casual gesture looked alien on my suit-and-tie father. “However, if you’d rather forget your first attempt at negotiation, there’s always the cage. Of course, the cage has no privacy at al …And no shower or proper toilet.”

He had a point, and I knew I’d lost round one. But round two would come soon enough, assuming I hung around long enough to fight it.

I pouted, slumping against the back of the couch. “Fine. You win. But if you send Marc into my room at night, I swear he’l come out a eunuch.”

Daddy nodded. “Fair enough. Marc stays on the day shift.” He glanced at Michael, amusement lifting the corners of his mouth. “Make the arrangements.”

“No problem.” And with that, Michael left to strip away another of my civil rights. You’d think his law school education might have at least made him hesitate.

Whatever happened to the Bil of Rights? But apparently Baylor Law didn’t teach complicated concepts like that. What was the world coming to?

Fourteen

Jace wound up with the first shift of Faythe-sitting, because Daddy wanted Marc to help greet the arriving Alphas and bring them up to speed. Ethan got the same assignment, along with Parker, once he’d returned from the airport with the Di Carlos. Every half hour or so the doorbel would ring as another Alpha and his smal entourage arrived. After the third large man in a dark suit asked me how I was holding up, Jace and I retreated to my room with a plate piled high with food from my mother’s buffet.

“So, what’d you do?” Jace asked me around a mouthful of ham and cheese on whole wheat. I lay sprawled across my bed on my stomach, the plate of food in front of me. He sat in my desk chair, which he’d pulled up to the bed so he could reach the food.

I licked a smear of pimento cheese from my finger and reached for another tiny sandwich. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” He brushed crumbs from his shirt, and my eyes followed his hand, lingering on the lines of his chest, clearly visible through the thin white cotton. “What’s with the babysitting detail? Is it because of Marc’s leg, or did Ethan rat you out about the guy in the woods?”