Secret Service Dad. Mollie Molay

gestured to her bandaged wrist. “Feeling a little better this morning?”

      “I’m fine, it was only a scratch,” Charlie answered, more and more uneasy at his presence with every passing moment. Considering the state of affairs between them, and what was going on in her office, she didn’t feel very well, at that. Too bad she hadn’t had the foresight to close the office door behind her.

      Their gazes locked. She could tell he sensed something was wrong with her. It looked as if the visit was going to end in a standoff, until, to her dismay, a strange guttural sound broke the silence.

      Mike cocked his head and looked around the office for the source. “What was that?”

      “What was what? I didn’t hear anything.” The feeble smile froze on Charlie’s lips as the sound came again. The unthinkable was about to happen. She silently prayed that the sound wouldn’t be repeated.

      “I’m sure I heard something,” Mike glanced cautiously around the office again, finally shrugged and took a seat by her desk. “Maybe it was my imagination. Got the time to answer a few questions?”

      “Actually, no.” She summoned her best smile and remained beside the open office door. Maybe he would take the broad hint and leave. “I have a full morning ahead today. How about tomorrow?”

      The sound came again. This time, too loud for her to ignore. She frantically tried to think of a sensible explanation for the sound, but her mind seemed to have turned to mush. Any way she looked at it, she was knee-deep in trouble—and with the last man in the world she wanted to be in trouble with. He’d already as much as told her she was one card short of a full deck. What would he think of her now?

      She followed Mike’s gaze to the large cloth tote bag she’d hung on the coatrack this morning. To her deepening dismay, it was shaking as if something inside was doing a rumba, with sound effects to match.

      “Maybe I’m nuts,” Mike said as he got to his feet and cautiously eyed the shaking tote bag, “but it looks to me as if there’s something alive in there.” He paused and fixed her with a grim look that sent her heart skidding down to her toes. “You wouldn’t happen to know what it is, would you?”

      Charlie swallowed hard. There was something alive in the tote bag. How could she deny the truth when it was so blatantly obvious? She debated the alternatives and finally decided she had to give Mike some kind of story to throw him offtrack before he looked inside the bag for himself. But then, she thought as she took a deep breath, this was no ordinary situation.

      To add to her present problem, she was all too aware this wasn’t going to do much for her reputation.

      “It’s only Boomer,” she said finally when she tried and failed to come up with a decent story. She patted the tote bag and made soothing noises. “No problem about our talking, though,” she added hastily when Mike took a step toward the rack. “As long as you’re here, you might as well go on with your questions.”

      His eyes narrowed as his gaze turned back to Charlie. “Boomer? Your cat?”

      “No.” She eyed the tote bag and prayed its occupant would give up and take a nap before all hell broke loose. After all, she’d bottle-fed Boomer only minutes before they’d left the house. He couldn’t possibly be hungry again.

      “Your dog?”

      “No. That is, not exactly.”

      “Not exactly,” Mike repeated slowly. The finely honed sixth sense that had never failed him demanded satisfaction. “Just what do you have in there?” He took another step toward the rack.

      “A male baby wallaby, a type of kangaroo.” Charlie blurted since she couldn’t come up with another answer. “His name is Boomer. All male kangaroos are called Boomers.”

      Mike froze in midstride. “A male baby kangaroo? In here? I mean in there?” He pointed to the tote bag.

      Charlie nodded and tried to act as if a kangaroo in an office was an everyday occurrence.

      He ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture Charlie remembered all too well was a sign of his frustration. “Since when does the concierge of Blair House keep a kangaroo as a pet? Let alone carry it around with her like a baby?”

      Charlie glowered at him. “Where is it written in my contract that I can’t bring a pet into Blair House? Or that it has to be a cat or a dog?”

      “Come on,” Mike said, frustrated as hell. He knew that there was no such clause in her employment contract, but enough was enough. Not even an unusual woman like Charlie Norris would go to such weird lengths as to own a pet like a kangaroo. “You really don’t expect me to believe a cockamamy story like that one, do you?”

      She shrugged. “I’m beyond the point of trying to defend myself or my choice of pets to you or anyone else. Believe it or not, Boomer is a baby kangaroo and he needs five feedings a day. I bottle-fed him this morning before I came to work. Right now he thinks he’s in his mother’s pouch waiting for the next feeding.”

      At her explanation, Mike looked more incredulous than ever. “Why is he shaking like that?”

      “He’s just reacting to a friendly voice. Mine,” she added pointedly.

      Mike eyed the swaying tote bag. “Not that I believe you, but where did you manage to find a kangaroo around here? And why did you have to bring it to the office?”

      “I found Boomer through the Internet. As for why he’s here, Freddie, my zoo helper, has the flu. I didn’t have anyone else to leave the little guy with.”

      “On the Internet. A zoo,” Mike echoed slowly. “I’ve heard of Web sites where people sell or exchange all kinds of weird things, but baby kangaroos? And a personal zoo? You can’t possibly be serious.”

      “He’s here, isn’t he? And, for your information, I own two other marsupials. They’re my friends.” She stopped and frowned. “Actually, I don’t actually know who owns who, but collecting exotic animals is a hobby of mine.”

      Charlie wasn’t sure she liked the rainbow of expressions that ran across Mike’s face as he eyed the tote bag. If he’d thought she was odd before, what did he think of her now?

      And why, she wondered as she eyed Mike’s chiseled features and the aura of mystery that his profession surrounded him with, did she care what he thought of her?

      “A zoo for exotic animals,” he echoed softly as he eyed her. “Now, why don’t I believe that either?”

      It was Charlie’s turn to shrug. “It’s a small zoo where I keep Boomer and his…” She paused for breath. What more could he think about her if she told him she had an eclectic collection of creatures, furry and otherwise? She settled for “…and a few other animals.”

      “And this so-called zoo of yours?” he said dryly. “Next thing you’re going to tell me it’s in your backyard.”

      “Exactly,” she agreed, relieved that the cards were on the table. She could be herself again. “I have three acres of land in back of the house.”

      Mike was almost speechless. As far as he knew, kangaroos were regarded as pests by Australians, but evidently not by Charlie. But to carry around a baby kangaroo in a tote bag?

      For Pete’s sakes! Mike wanted to shout at her. This is Blair House, the official residence of the State Department! Numerous notables have stayed here through the years, including a president of the United States while the White House was being renovated. How could you bring a live kangaroo in here?

      He glanced at the tote bag. On second thought, he didn’t dare raise his voice. There was no telling how the baby kangaroo in there might react. What if it got out and he had to chase it around the premises? He and Charlie would be dismissed so fast it would make their heads swim. And what that would do to his spotless reputation wasn’t even worth thinking about.

      The terrifying thought changed