Page 6 of The Bad Girl and the Baby

It was probably his fault—he’d hardly provided an ideal home life for his niece. Lulu deserved better than what he was giving her. Especially after what happened to her parents.

He rubbed a hand across his scalp. He’d tried, but six nannies in eighteen months did not give continuity. And his job took him away for extended periods of time. And that would only get worse if he got this new position. And he wanted that position, had been working toward it for years. Jesus, his life was out of control and he hated that.

Gary punched him on the shoulder as he went out. “Good luck tomorrow.”

He hopefully wouldn’t need luck. The job—field command for a brand new, quick-response anti-terrorist unit—was just about his, and this last assessment a mere formality. He hoped.

After closing the door behind them, he leaned back against it. Maybe he did need a wife. For some reason, an image of the blonde from the club flashed up in his mind. But if he did go that route, he’d have to think with his head, not his dick.

In the meantime, he had a new nanny starting in the morning. She was expensive and came with the highest of recommendations. The agency assured him she had experience with difficult children. He hated the idea of Lulu being labeled as difficult so early on in her life, but apparently six nannies said otherwise.

He returned to the living room and methodically put everything away. He hated mess. Always had. The kitchen next—it looked like one of Gary’s bombs had gone off.

Finally, everything was in its proper place and he headed up the stairs.

He opened the door just a crack and peered inside. Lulu was asleep in her cot bed, her blond hair splayed out across her pillow. As if sensing his presence, she rolled over in her sleep. He held his breath, but she just made a noise that sounded like “Woof” and settled again. Was she dreaming of puppies?

Chocolate was smeared all over her face and various other surfaces. He had an almost uncontrollable urge to go clean her up, but he knew from experience that if she woke now, shewouldn’t sleep again. At least not for a long time.

She would have to wait until morning. And the new nanny. God, he hoped this one worked out.

…

Darcy jumped off the bus. She hadn’t felt up to driving in the rush hour traffic. Her hands were shaking. Christ, she hadn’t felt this nervous since… In fact, she’d never felt this nervous. Not even before a major MMA tournament. Back then, she’d had the buzz of adrenaline, she’d felt alive. Now she just felt sick.

Summer had crept into her bedroom in the early hours and laid an outfit on the bed. She was wearing it now, and—like last night’s dress—it was not her typical style. But they were following a plan here. A plan she hadn’t been happy about, but which Summer and Regan had assured her was her best bet for success.

“We love you just the way you are,” Regan had said. “But you can come across a little bit scary.”

“First impressions are so important,” Summer added. “Just get through that first meeting, and after that, once he’s got to know what a truly…nice person you are, then it won’t matter. He’ll see past the…” She waved a hand in Darcy’s general direction.

Darcy disliked pretense of any kind. But she was willing to bow to their better judgment. So today she was wearing a black pencil skirt, a white button-down blouse that covered her tattoos, and luckily, black flats. So at least she could walk. Her hair needed cutting, and without gel it flopped onto her forehead. It gave her a softer look. She’d left off her nose stud and wore small hoops in her ears. Her fingernails were unpolished, free of her usual black varnish. She looked…hopefully nice.

“And smile,” Regan had said.

“Try not to look so fierce,” Summer suggested.

She growled, and then smiled through gritted teeth, which made Summer giggle. She was so goddamned happy, and she wanted Darcy to be happy as well. Whatever it took.

Lastly, she had a black bag slung over her shoulder, which contained the report on her brother-in-law.

She had the address memorized. From the information Nate had collected, she knew Captain Matt usually left the house at nine o’clock. It was half past eight, but maybe she’d get lucky and find him already gone.

Don’t be a wimp.

She paused outside the gate and studied the house. It was smart. In a nice neighborhood; the sort of place where families lived. A semi-detached, with a red door and a small, neat garden out front. A boring house.

After wiping her hands down her skirt, she pushed open the gate and walked slowly up the driveway. At the front door, she took a deep breath—I can do this—and pressed the bell.

It sounded somewhere inside the house, and she heard footsteps coming her way. She swallowed and gritted her teeth.

Whatever it takes.

The door opened. And there he was, and her heart started racing.

She’d never gone for the military type. She didn’t like the clean-cut look. But Captain Mathew Peterson, in uniform, looked like some sort of fantasy guy. For the first time, she had an inkling of sympathy for her sister. She’d never understood her infatuation with Steven Peterson, but if he’d had half the charisma of his brother, it was at least a little understandable.

He was staring at her with narrowed eyes. “It’s you.” He shook his head then opened the door wider. “Did you know who I was last night?” Not waiting for her to answer, he gestured for her to enter. “I’m guessing not. It doesn’t matter. Come in.”

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