Page 15 of Bait N' Witch

“Not yet,” he said.

Had he felt the ripple of energy, minute as it’d been, or caught the direction of her stare?

The strange spot on her wrist where he’d shocked her the day they met had stopped tingling by that night, but now it started heating again at his touch. Holding in a gasp as warmth spread from the spot throughout her body, she tipped her chin up, looking him directly in the eyes, dark eyes, currently laser-focused on her in a way she didn’t entirely trust. He didn’t let her go, his large hand wrapped loosely around her now-burning wrist. Did he not feel that?

“My office is off-limits. So is my room, while we’re at it.”

Relief that she’d not been caught whooshed through her even as his commanding tone put her back up. She just barely kept from rolling her eyes. This was not the army. This was a household, mister.

But she was the nanny, the employee. And she needed to get out of here. Schooling her features into what she hoped was her meekest expression, meek not exactly coming naturally to her, she nodded. “Of course.”

She went to leave again, only to have him tug her back.

“And you don’t clean. I have a maid who comes in every other week to do that.”

Irritation shot through her, though it didn’t assuage the heat now spreading from her arm, gathering low in her belly and rippling over her skin. “Any suggestions on what I do with my time?”

Greyson’s expressive brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

Was he really that clueless? Most people didn’t enjoy hours of sitting around doing nothing. Rowan’d had enough of that over the last year of imprisonment and recent hiding to last a lifetime. No way was she sitting on her ass doing nothing all day.

Eyes narrowed, she stepped closer in to him. Not quite touching, but the heat on her skin now came from Greyson as well as the throbbing spot on her arm, adding to her irritation. “What did the other nannies do during the day while the girls were at school?”

He gave a puzzled shrug. “How should I know?”

“So those poor women sat around idly for eight hours every day just waiting?” She made it clear what she thought of that situation and his part in it.

His jaw hardened, mouth going flat. “I don’t appreciate your tone, Rowan.”

“I don’t appreciate being stuck somewhere with only a TV for entertainment, Grey.” His shortened name slipped from her lips and felt good to say—strangely so.

“So that’s what you think about my home? That you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere?”

A sliver of hurt lined the offended tone of his voice and gave Rowan a pause in her anger. Did he want her to like his home? In actual fact, she adored it. If she’d created a dream home, it would’ve looked something like this cabin in its idyllic setting.

Cursing her hasty temper and provoking words, and thinking only of healing a minor hurt, she placed her hand on his chest. “No. I love your cabin.”

Beneath her palm his heart beat hard, echoing her own tripping heart rate. The spot on her wrist burned just on the edge of pain now, like holding a finger over a flame for too long. Grey said nothing, his expression inscrutable as he stared at her for an interminable moment. Rowan found herself holding her breath.

Then, as if he couldn’t resist, he reached up and brushed a finger down her jawline, leaving a trail of sensation in the wake of his touch. His head dipped lower, and Rowan leaned in toward him, eager for his kiss, only to stumble slightly as he stepped back sharply before making contact.

Feeling as though she’d been shoved under a freezing cold shower, a glance up revealed Grey’s expression to be closed off, the desire in his eyes from only seconds before, gone. Had she even seen it? Or had she been deluding herself, lured by the heat pouring through her.

Grey moved away, around to the other side of his desk, putting physical distance between them. “I’ll think about what you could do during the day while the girls are gone. For now I suggest getting to know the area and the town nearby.”

He sat down, opening his laptop in a clear dismissal, and Rowan, head held high, took the hint and left. As soon as she entered her room, she blew out a long, pent-up breath and glanced down at her wrist, then peered closer. The faint line that appeared the first time he touched her had grown, extending into a swooping, curving design now. Nothing recognizable.

“What in all the realms is that?” she muttered, tracing the line with her finger. She almost expected it to sting at her touch, as it did when Grey touched her. But, beyond the tingling that remained from a moment ago, the mark did nothing.

Had he cursed her? Spelled her? She knew of no spells or curses that left a physical mark like this, not a scar, not a stamp, almost like a half-finished tattoo in white ink.

Rowan leaned her head against her bedroom door. Not for the first time, she wished she could ask Tanya about it. She missed her friend and the steadiest mother figure she’d had in her life. Right up until the day Tanya died at Kaios’s hand.

Either way, the fact that Rowan’s body practically superheated at Grey’s touch was damned inconvenient, a distraction and potential embarrassment she didn’t need at best. At worst, it was a complication that could keep her from accomplishing what she’d come here for—protecting her own ass. She doubted they’d punish her for her part in the wolf shifter fight when they learned of how she’d been forced, but in investigating that, they’d discover more about her.

She couldn’t have that.

Witches feared demons above all other creatures. Having been raised by one was not information she wanted the Syndicate to discover. In addition, her most powerful gift with animals made her vulnerable to being controlled by werewolves, which, in turn, made her a possible weapon against others, including witches. No way would the Syndicate of the world’s covens of witches allow her to live her life in peace once they discovered her secrets—or possibly live at all.

---