Daddy's Angel (Montana Daddies 7)

His praise soothed the raw wounds on her soul. The pain from years of being told she didn’t measure up to her parents’ expectations, to society’s views, to Larry’s requirements.

She didn’t care that he didn’t really mean them. In no way could she be considered brave. She hadn’t done anything. He was just saying it because he needed to calm her down.

Once the panic started to lift from her chest and she felt like she could breathe more easily, she realized that she was practically sitting on his lap, her hand on his chest. She tried to move away.

He let her go. Disappointment flooded her.

“Going to fucking kill Larry for making Joe take him home. What the hell was Joe thinking? He’s your driver.”

Oh God. Oh God.

Thinking about it made the panic rage through her once more. She leaned her forehead against her knees with a tired cry. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t take any more

“Just breathe, angel.” He ran his hand up and down her back. “Calm down. Good girl. Nearly there. You’re doing well.”

She felt ill. Shivers rocked her body. She was so cold. And exhausted. She wanted to go home.

Bain pulled her up and drew her close once more. She leaned on him.

It was just for tonight.

Surely that was okay. It wasn’t every day that you had to be rushed out of a building that was on fire then were nearly mobbed by a crowd of fans and then driven through Manhattan and out to . . . where were they, exactly?

“Brooklyn,” Bain rumbled when she asked. “Friend lives here. We’ll stay the night.”

She turned her head sharply. What? When had this been decided? Wait. She remembered him and Dominic talking. . .something about a crowd being outside her apartment.

“We’ll stay here tonight and go back tomorrow.”

She shook her head. Go back? She didn’t want to go back. Not tomorrow. Not ever. She was over that apartment. Over this life. All she wanted was to create music. To be free.

His face tightened. “Know my friend’s place won’t exactly be up to your standards, but it’s better than a hotel where you might be recognized. Friends aren’t rich, but you’ll be safe there.”

What? What was he even talking about? She didn’t care about where they were staying. The car pulled over to the side of the road.

“Stay,” he warned her. He opened the door then she saw the driver open his window. Bain handed him something. Money. Right. She needed to make sure he was reimbursed for that. Although she supposed she’d just get billed for it.

She looked out at a gorgeous brownstone house. This place was probably bigger than her apartment. What was he even talking about?

Sometimes she didn’t understand other people.

Bain opened her door and held out his hand without looking at her. She understood he was doing his bodyguard duties. But for a moment there it had felt like there was more between them. Like he might actually care.

You’re paying him, Arianna. He’s doing his job.

She slipped her hand into his and felt a shiver of awareness cross her skin. Her body wanted to gravitate towards him, to wrap around all those muscles. Maybe it was a safety thing. She was scared and he was so calm and commanding. Capable.

Yeah? So how come you don’t feel that way about Dominic?

She shouldn’t feel this way about Bain. Most of the time he intimidated her. He was so stern. Blunt. Grouchy.

He guided her up the steps. The door at the top opened and a well-built man dressed in jeans and a rock band T-shirt stood there. His hair was wavy and pushed back off his handsome face.

He stepped aside without saying a word. Bain ushered her inside quickly and the man shut and locked the door behind him, setting the alarm.

Only then did he turn to Bain with a grin. “Hey, man, good to see you.” They did one of those manly half-hugs she thought she saw an actual smile grace Bain’s face. But she must have imagined it, because when he turned to her, his face was granite again.

“This is Arianna. Arianna, my friend Tom. We went to school together.”