A freak, unseasonal snowstorm has brought Heathrow Airport to a standstill, grounding all the planes. Except I need to get home to New Zealand, urgently. I've done something I shouldn't have done, and the longer I'm trapped here in this airport, the higher my chances of getting busted.I'm desperate.So desperate, I throw a tantrum at the customer service desk, begging the lady to let me on a plane, then yelling at her when she doesn't. Probably not a good look, considering there are armed cops everywhere, and I really don't want to be drawing attention to myself.So when a Kiwi rugby player literally scoops me up off my feet and puts me in a quiet corner to cool off, away from the attentions of the millions of people trapped in this airport, I should be grateful.Except then he demands I call him Daddy. And that's when I think that maybe I should run.If only he wasn't the only one who can help me. This was previously published in the International Daddies anthology.
