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“You sure about that?” He growled.
I nodded my head, stepping up to him. “Go ahead. Give it your best shot.”
Montana cocked his head to the side, grinned, then kissed my forehead before leaving me standing in the kitchen alone.
Plopping in the chair he had just vacated, I heard a light chuckle.
Turning, I saw Mrs. Alice shaking her head. “Gonna have to do better than that,girl. Mr. Montana has had years of practice beating his brothers.”
“He won’t stay in a room long enough. He’s impossible.”
“He’s a Stone. The Stone men don’t give in until they are ready.”
“Short of throwing myself at his feet and begging him, I don’t know what to do.”
“You’re going to have to be daring. You and Montana have a colorful history. He knows you better than you know yourself. If you want to beat him at his own game, you better put your thinking cap on because right now, he has you right where he wants you.”
I spent the rest of the day in my room.
Well, his room, but he said nothing when he came in and saw me lounging on his bed, reading a book. Mrs. Alice had brought me the dress Montana had bought me an hour ago. Only I had no desire to put it on and get ready for the dinner party.
“You’re not dressed,” he said, stating the obvious.
“Nope.”
“Guest will arrive in an hour.”
“I know.”
“Do you need help getting ready?”
“I can dress myself,” I said, flipping the page of my book.
Walking into his closet, he stopped. “I see you’ve moved back in.”
“Got a problem with that?”
“Nope,” he said, disappearing into the large closet, only to come out a few minutes later dressed in a crisp black tailored suit. Even his shirt and tie were black. The man was a walking fuck stick I wanted to mount and ride off into the sunset.
Instead of doing or saying anything, I tried to focus on my book.
It was a good one too. The male hero reminded me a lot of Montana. Dark, dangerous, famous for putting his foot in his mouth and toe curling good in bed. Holy fuck, these sex scenes are hot as hell!
At this rate, I wouldn’t need Montana.
I would get myself off.
“What are you reading?”
“A book by Elizabeth N. Harris.”
“What’s it about?”
Smiling, I looked up and grinned wickedly. “Bikers.”
Montana laughed as he walked out of the room.
Bastard.
