Page 6 of Bully Wolf's Nanny
She was long gone.
So he was more than happy to be the sole carer for his daughter. She was his entire world. He couldn’t imagine ever trusting anyone else to look after her like she deserved. And he wasn’t willing to compromise.
But he owed Felix a duty of loyalty. He had sworn allegiance when he was just sixteen years old, when Felix had decided their fathers had brought enough death and despair to the pack. His best friend had never asked for more than Nicolas was willing to give, and had always tried to do right by him.
He knew Felix. He wouldn’t be bringing this up if he thought Nicolas shouldn’t be hearing it. He was wise beyond his years, and had an uncanny ability to cut through Nicolas’s bullshit to the truth beneath.
If nothing else, he owed it to Felix to hear him out.
“What do you suggest?”
Felix’s shoulders lost some of their tension and he cracked an easy smile. “There’s this agency. Rick told me about it a while back. They specialize in providing nannies for shifter males.”
Nicolas’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a rather particular niche.”
Felix shrugged. “You and I both know that personal relationships aren’t easy for us. I guess there’s a market for it.”
“Have you used them?”
“No, but I’ve considered it. I think you should, too. They’re highly reputable. Rick wouldn’t have considered them if they weren’t the best of the best.”
“Yet he only considered them? He didn’t want to use them?”
Felix shrugged again. “You know what he’s like about strangers in his house.”
“Yeah, he’s an elitist—"
“Careful,” Felix said, imbuing his voice with just enough of a bite to make Nicolas swallow his insult.
“Look, just check out their agency. I’ll even set up the meeting. It would be good for you to get back into the thick of things.”
Nicolas considered Gracie, all smiles and shiny cheeks, and rolled his eyes. “Okay. Fine. You win. I’ll meet them. But I’m telling you now, nobody they put in front of me will be good enough.”
***
One week later, Nicolas was cramped into a chair too small for his lithe frame, glaring at a rather frazzled-looking woman with gray hair curling around her temples. For an agency that supposedly catered exclusively to shifter males, he was surprised they couldn’t be bothered to invest in more suitable furniture.
Yet another black mark against them.
The woman was rifling through papers, getting increasingly nervous, shooting wary glances towards him withevery clumsy movement. It was no surprise, really; he’d been told many times how intimidating he could be when he wanted.
And right now, he really wanted to be.
“Right! Er…Mr. Accardi. What a lovely name. Italian, is it?”
“Yes,” Nicolas replied tersely, drumming his fingers against the arm of the chair.
“Oh, how lovely. Does your family come from the Alpine wolf clans? Did you know you can trace most shifter genealogies back to precise geographical—"
“If I may,” Nicolas interrupted, leaning forward in his seat, fixing his gaze on the quivering human, “I have some questions about you and your agency.”
“Oh, it’s not my agency, dearie!” the woman laughed nervously. “I’m just one of the local representatives. This is one of our satellite offices, our main office is in Washington D.C. Plenty of shifter types in those parts!”
“Perhaps I should have gone to that office instead,” replied Nicolas.
The woman—Molly, according to the name tag pinned to her crisp white shirt—coughed and readjusted her glasses. “My apologies, Mr. Accardi. Of course, please ask anything you want. It would be my delight to tell you more about our agency and the services we provide.”
Nicolas considered her, focusing the full weight of his penetrating gaze on her. The silence hung thick, and he could tell she was fighting the urge to squirm.
