Page 215 of Nanny and the Beast

Alaric clears his throat. “So no one was hurt in the fire, right?”

I shake my head. “Everyone is safe, thank God.”

“Good,” he says, nodding. “That’s good.”

I glance over at him. There are deep grooves of worry etched into his face.

“Speaking of which, Emmasaw something at the house last night. She asked me who the girl in the white wedding dress was.”

Alaric’s hands tighten around the wheel.

“What did you tell her?” he asks, his voice cold and strange.

“I couldn’t tell her the truth,” I say.

“You’re going to have to eventually,” he says.

“I don’t even know where to start. It’s all so fucking messy.”

“You’ll figure it out,” he says.

We pass through the gates of the residential area. Alaric flashes a bright smile at the security stationed outside.

“I don’t know how you do it,” I say.

“Do what?” he asks.

“Switch between emotions like that,” I say.

“Are you calling me fake?” he says.

“Your words, not mine.” I look at him. “No, I just meant that you don’t hold on to things for too long. Even when you have so much bothering you, you still find reasons to be happy.”

“What can I say? Our relationship would be so boring if both of us were mean grumps,” he says.

We enter hisdriveway. Slices ofsunlight break through the clouds, making the whole world glow.

“What about Richard?” I ask.

“He’s awake,” Alaric says. “You can come play with him after you settle in.”

“You make it sound like I’m some type of psychopath,” I say.

Alaric grins at me. “Do you want to know what I really think?”

“You’re not qualified to give me a diagnosis, man,” I say.

I step out of the car and head toward the vehicle parked in front. Emma is about to get out of the car. Everything Alaric said about love letters and flowers is still fresh in my mind, but I act on instinct.

Before Emma can step foot on the ground, I reach inside the car and scoop her into my arms. Shelets out a surprised yelp.

“Klaus, what are you doing?” she asks.

“The doctor said that you should rest for the next twenty-four hours,” I say.

She’s so soft and sweet in my arms.I don’t ever want to let her go.

“I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to walk,” she says. “This is mildly mortifying.”