Page 50 of The Bad Girl and the Baby

“You said you’d look after her. If you couldn’t do it, you should have said so.”

“You were late.”

“It took longer than I expected.” Was he defending himself? He tried to hold on to his righteous anger, but it was slipping away. And maybe it hadn’t been all that righteous, after all. He rallied his argument. “You could have phoned. I left my number.”

“You said that was for emergencies. This wasn’t an emergency.” She came to stand in front of him, hands on her hips, looking totally badass and sexy as hell. He had a sudden flashback to being deep inside her. He had a strange feeling that he might have fucked up his chances of that happening again anytime soon. “You shouldn’t have brought her here. This is no place for a child.”

Her nostrils flared, her eyes narrowed. “Why? Because it’s full of horrible, violent, drug-addicted people like me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You implied it. There’s nothing wrong with this place. She was having fun. Weren’t you, Lulu?”

He tore his gaze away to look at his niece. She was standing in exactly the same position as Darcy—hands on her hips, looking back at him. “Yes.”

God, he was going to be in trouble in a few years. Lulu was a mini Darcy in the making. He looked back at Darcy. He had a weird feeling that he was totally in the wrong here. But he’d expected her to be there, and when she wasn’t, he’d been…disappointed. That was an understatement, and maybe it had scared him a little, maybe making him…overreact? He was trying to work out how to make it right when Darcy spoke again.

“Hey, Lulu baby. You want to see how that last move works?”

“Yes!”

“Should I show you on Uncle Matt?”

“Matt, Matt, Matt.” Lulu jumped up and down, clearly liking the idea.

He had an inkling of what was coming next. He saw it in the tenseness of her muscles as she prepared to move. He could have avoided it. Hell, he was trained in unarmed combat—he could have taken her down. But maybe he deserved this. So he gave a mental shrug, relaxed his muscles, and let her go ahead and give him a little payback.

She whirled around super-fast, with one leg raised, and kicked him firmly in the chest. He hadn’t expected the force, and he toppled over backward, landing with a crash, the air whooshing out of his lungs.

He lay there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling.

He heard a giggle. “More. More.” He turned his head. Lulu was bouncing up and down. Sadistic little monster.

“No more for now,” Darcy said.Praise the Lord.“Let’s go get a cold drink and cool down. Uncle Matt will join us when he’s had time to think about what he wants to say next.”

Sorry?

He watched as she took Lulu’s hand and led her from the room, passing his audience as she went. He hadn’t even heard the others come in. Two women, a blonde and a brunette—who he recognized as the woman who had interrupted him when he’d been about to screw Darcy over her desk. Regan. And a man, tall, with overlong blond hair and an amused grin on his face. At least he was providing someone with entertainment. The blonde he recognized from the first night he’d seen Darcy in the club.

He waited until Darcy and Lulu were gone and then he sat up and ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, that went well,” Regan murmured.

“I thought Darcy said he was in the SAS,” the blonde said. “That’s a little worrying.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure he let her knock him down.”

“He did? Why?”

“Probably because he realized he was being a total prick.”

Yeah. That about summed it up. But Darcy had that effect on him. She messed up his nice, organized life and fucked with his nice, organized brain.

“He’s awfully quiet. Do you think he hit his head?” the blonde asked.

Regan took a step closer and crouched down beside him. She held up two fingers. “What am I trying to say?”

“Fuck off?” he suggested, and pushed himself to his feet.

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