Page 38 of Bully Wolf's Nanny
“Nicolas?” a falsetto voice rang out through the hall, before a tall, willowy woman with pin-straight caramel hair pushed past Julia. “Oh, Nicolas! I’m so pleased to see you!”
The woman threw herself into his arms, forcing him to let go of Thea’s hand to catch her before she sent them both tumbling down the porch step.
“Francesca?” he gasped, pushing the woman out of his arms to get a good look at her face.
There was no doubt about it. It was the same sharp cheekbones, the perfectly rouged lips, the fluttering brown eyes.
Francesca was here. In his house.
Gracie’s mother.
“Francesca, what the hell are you doing here?”
She didn’t answer, her gaze instead tracking over his shoulder, to where Daisy stood behind him, a look of pure shock on her face.
“Is that…? Oh, it is!” Without waiting for permission, Francesca launched past him and snatched Gracie away from Daisy, twirling her around. The sudden motion woke Gracie rather abruptly, and she screamed in irritation before settling into a steady bawl. “Oh, my baby,” Francesca simpered, patting her back, “don’t cry, don’t cry! Your mommy’s here now!”
If anything, Gracie just sobbed even harder.
Nicolas turned to Daisy. The shock on her face was fading into a sort of resigned dull mask, one he recognized well.
“Right,” she said quietly. “I’ll go and start on dinner. Thea, come on.”
“Oh, are you the maid?” Francesca said, casting a critical eye over Daisy. “If you could prepare my room that would be wonderful.”
“I’m the nanny,” Daisy said, her throat audibly thick, “but, of course. I’ll get it all sorted for you.”
“Thank yousomuch,” Francesca simpered.
“Daisy, wait,” Nicolas caught her wrist before she could escape into the house with Thea, “this isn’t—"
“It’s okay.” She turned back and gave him an entirely unconvincing smile. “I’ll let you two catch up.”
She turned and pulled her hand back, disappearing into the hallway, Julia following her with frantic, wringing hands.
Francesca’s nose curled slightly. “That’s your nanny? Really, Nicolas, where did you hire her?”
Nicolas’s teeth ground together, and he took Gracie from Francesca’s grasp. “Inside. Now.”
Francesca shrugged and waltzed inside, smoothing down the fabric of her satin pencil skirt as she went. Nicolas brushed past her and headed for the parlor. “Of course, I’m sure she’s perfectly qualified,” she continued with a noticeable aura of haughtiness as they walked, “but I’m surprised she doesn’t have a uniform of some sorts. I mean, that dress? It looks like something a little girl would wear.”
“Francesca,” Nicolas said, his voice heavy with warning, “I would ask you not to disrespect my staff in my house.”
Francesca’s shoulders stiffened momentarily, before she spun around, all fluttering eyelashes and pouting lips. “Oh, I meant no disrespect at all! I just worry about our little girl, that’s all. It breaks my heart that another woman has been looking after her, and I only want the best for her!”
“Only the best?” Nicolas ground out, his eyes narrowing. “Surely you’re joking.”
“I would never joke about our daughter,” she replied, one hand clutching her chest. “I can’t believe you would even think that!”
Nicolas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I need a drink.”
Francesca pouted again, taking Gracie from him and sitting primly down into a plush armchair by the fireplace, one long leg crossing over the other, Gracie bouncing on her lap. Nicolas allowed it only to free up his hands to pour himself a strong scotch from the crystal decanter ready and waiting on the built-in marble shelves of the parlor.
Gracie fidgeted in Francesca’s lap, clearly uncomfortable with how she was positioned, her large eyes filling with tears ready for a fresh temper tantrum. Looking at Francesca’s wobbling lip, Nicolas wasn’t certain his daughter would be the only one throwing a fit.
Francesca was making a show of fussing over Gracie, tapping her nose and cooing, making all the appropriate sounds whilst glancing over to make sure Nicolas was watching. He raised an eyebrow at the performance, and then lowered himself into the seat opposite.
“Well,” he said, “I’m all ears. What are you doing here?”
