Daddy's Angel (Montana Daddies 7)

“I prefer to think of it as older and wiser. I also don’t want to endure his grumpiness’ wrath. The man can hold a grudge.”

“His grumpiness? I bet you don’t say that to his face.”

He widened his eyes comically. “Good Lord no. See this pretty face? I like it just where it is, thank you very much.”

“I call him an ogre,” she confessed.

He nodded. “Bet you don’t say it to his face either.”

“Oh no. I like to be able to sit.”

15

“Ari, what are you doing?”

She started, closing the laptop with a screech. “Oh God, I didn’t hear you come in. You move like a ghost.”

Bain frowned down at her. “Why are you looking up things about yourself on the internet?”

“Because I’m a masochist?”

“If you’re truly a masochist, I can help with that.” He sat on the desk facing her.

She leaned back in her chair, gaping up at him. “What. . .no. . .umm. . .”

He grinned.

“You’re teasing me. Since when do you tease people?”

“I tease all the time.”

Uh-huh. Sure he did.

“How did you get your laptop, little miss?” he asked sternly.

She squirmed on her seat. Uh-oh. “I found it in your room.”

“You snuck into my room and searched through all my stuff. That was very naughty.”

She bit her lip, feeling bad. Until she remembered that this was her laptop. And he’d taken it without her permission.

She straightened. “You went into my room without my permission when you put that monitor in.”

“That was different. I was taking care of you.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “You stole my laptop and phone and hid them from me.”

“Because you needed a break. Last thing you needed was to be hassled by reporters, wanting the juicy details. You can’t tell me that you don’t feel better for it.”

She rubbed her aching head. She wasn’t truly angry with him. If she’d wanted her stuff back, she could have gotten it at any time. It had been sitting on the dresser in his room.

“I guess I did need a break. But I have to go back to work sometime. I can’t hide forever.”

“Give it a bit longer. And stop reading stuff online about yourself. Ninety-five percent of it is rubbish. Don’t want you getting upset by what you read.”

“You can’t protect me from everything.”

“I can try,” he replied stubbornly. “Come on. I have a surprise for you.” He stood and held out his hand. She slipped her hand into his and let him lead her out of her office and down the passage, into her bedroom. She froze with surprise as she saw the picnic that had been set up.