Daddy's Sweet Girl (Montana Daddies 3)

Why was he repeating everything she said? “Did I hurt you? When I fell against you.”

“Did you hurt me? Hurt me? Fuck.” He stared down at her. Then he moved one hand to cup the side of her face, wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her in to kiss her.

And, oh, boy, what a kiss it was. Her body sizzled from the tip of her toes all the way up to her hair. He didn’t just kiss her, he possessed her. He took complete control and all she could do was hang on for the ride.

When he drew back, she couldn’t help but make a small sound of protest. She wanted more. Needed it. But instead of kissing her again, he swung her into his arms, one under her legs, the other around her back, and he turned, carrying her downstairs.

“What are you doing?” she asked. She wrapped her arms around his neck, terrified he was going to drop her. But he didn’t even show a hint of strain as he carried her straight into his office and then set her down on the leather sofa that lay in front of the fireplace. He started to pace back and forth, and she just sat there for a moment, watching him, taking him in.

Her lips still tingled, and her clit throbbed. Damn, if that’s what it felt like to kiss him, what would it be like to take things further? To have him touch her, taste her, take her?

She cleared her throat. She got that he was angry. She just wasn’t sure why. She inched her way forward on the sofa, ready to stand. He must’ve seen her movements because he turned around and pointed a finger at her.

“Stay.”

She ground her teeth together. She wasn’t a damn dog. Her heart was still racing from her near miss. And that kiss. What the heck did that kiss mean? She had no idea. All she knew was that right now, the last thing she wanted or needed was an Alec Malone lecture.

“Thanks for catching me,” she said. “But I need to go tidy up the mess I made. I’ve got to get the sheets in the wash. And I’m gonna be late getting dinner started if I don’t get a move on.”

He moved closer, his hands on his hips as he loomed over her. “You fell down the stairs.”

“Yes, well, I just tripped. I’m sure I would have been all right. Sure, I might have had a couple of bruise

s—”

“You tripped halfway down the stairs,” he interrupted her. “You could have broken a leg or an arm or hit your head or anything. This has to end.”

“What has to end?” she asked.

“This habit you have of getting yourself into trouble,” he snapped back at her. “Why the hell were you trying to carry your weight in linen down the stairs? You couldn’t see anything. You didn’t even see me coming up the stairs.”

“I thought I could get it all down in one go. And I tripped because my pants keep slipping down. And I don’t make it a habit of getting into trouble, you know. Do you think I wanted to fall? Do you think I want all these things happen to me?”

How could he go from kissing her to scolding her like a naughty teenager caught out after curfew?

He blew out a deep breath. “You need to take more care. No more carrying heavy things down the stairs. Got it?”

“This a new rule, is it?”

His jaw was tense as he glared down at her. “Yes. Another rule. And why are you even doing the washing? Your job is to cook. It’s not to clean my grandmother’s lamp. It’s not to hang out the washing. It’s not to wash all the linen. It’s to cook. And it’s to do as I tell you. I am in charge of your safety and I will get you to that damn trial in one piece, even if no one told me the biggest risk to you would be you.”

She looked up at him for a moment. All right, so obviously that kiss hadn’t meant much to him. Certainly it didn’t mean he cared about her.

She stood. Not her home. Not her family. She needed to remember that. “Fine. Sorry for overstepping my bounds. I’ll get out of your way.”

She got to the door when he called out to her.

“Yes?” She turned back to look at him. Maybe he was going to apologize for being a jerk. Miracles did happen, right?

“Your pants are slipping because you’ve lost weight. You need to eat more. You need clothes that fit better.”

“Is that it? Nothing else you want to add that you find lacking about me? Maybe my hair? Or my makeup?”

“You don’t wear any makeup.”

Awesome. She guessed he liked curvy girls who dressed with style and were made-up from the minute they got up until they went to bed. Not walking disasters who tripped over their own pants.

He moved over and sat at his desk. “If that’s all, I have work to do.”