Page 65 of Daddy's Wild Girl

Crap.

He was using his ‘I’m the boss’ voice. She didn’t like that voice.

“Why are you pouting?” he murmured.

“Because you’re using your bossy voice. And I always end up doing things I don’t want to do when you use that voice. Even when I tell myself not to do them!”

“That’s because your body knows who’s boss,” he told her.

She narrowed her gaze. He was so arrogant sometimes. “You are not my boss.”

“Think again. Now, you need to sit down so we can have a talk.”

Huffing out a breath, she moved to the sofa and perched on the edge. She’d shoved it up against another wall to keep it out of the way of falling debris.

But honestly, if the thing had been destroyed, she wouldn’t cry.

To her surprise, he grabbed the coffee table and dragged it over so he could sit in front of her. Then he leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, his face earnest.

“Are you all right?”

Bebe blinked at him. “What do you mean? I hadn’t even started.”

Which was disappointing.

She couldn’t wait to destroy that wall. She’d always hated it.

“Um, Bebe?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you glaring at the wall and muttering?”

“Because it’s standing in my way of a decent-sized living room. I want to smash through it to that tiny study behind it and create a big living room.”

“Right, I understand that. But can you look at me for a moment? Giving that wall the death ray stare won’t bring it down.”

One could wish.

She turned to look at him. He studied her closely. “You look tired. Didn’t you get any sleep after your nightmare?”

Damn it.

His voice had grown all soft and concerned. And it hit her hard.

Why did he have to be like this? So caring.

She thought he would immediately start scolding her, but instead, he was asking how she was.

“I’m fine.”

“That’s not an answer to my question.” His voice had grown firmer.

Urgh.

“No, I didn’t get any sleep.”

“I see. Were you scared the nightmare would come back?”

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