Page 11 of Bully Wolf's Nanny
All the air left Daisy’s lungs in a huge whoosh. Not a stranger. That was all she was to him. Somebody he happened to know.
She shouldn’t be surprised. She knew him, too. She knew what cruelty he was capable of.
Somehow, that didn’t diminish the sting.
“My answer is no,” she said.
His jaw tightened. “I’m afraid I can’t accept that answer, Daisy.”
“You can’t always get what you want, Nicolas.”
“Thirty thousand,” he said, just as she turned to leave, “thirty thousand a month. And a car. Rooms in my house. Flexible hours, if agreed in advance. Thirty days of vacation. As much money as you need for anything you require to be comfortable, on top of your salary. Fucking…dental.”
She turned back slowly, unable to resist the bait. “You know as well as I do that I don’t need dental. I’m a shifter, same as you.”
The corner of his lip quirked, almost imperceptibly. “Fine. No dental. Instead, I’ll start a college fund for your kid.”
Daisy sucked in a breath, all her pride, all her rage suddenly crumbling to dust.
A college fund for Thea. It was…it was…
Well, it was rather ironic, really.
But how could she say no, when Nicolas had single-handedly promised to give her daughter every single thing that she couldn’t? In the end, she truly had no choice.
As they shook hands and signed contracts, her heart wrenched in her chest.
Nicolas could never know. He could never find out. It would ruin everything.
As they walked outside and Nicolas asked about Thea, Daisy gave some non-specific age, some general description, some passing mention of favorite colors and animals and movies. Nicolas nodded, his jaw still tight.
No. He could never find out that Thea was his.
Chapter 4 - Nicolas
Daisy was oddly quiet on the car ride back to his house, hands folded neatly in her lap, gaze fixed firmly out the window.
Nicolas hadn’t commented on the obvious spike of anxiety in her scent whenever he moved too quickly or turned to look at her. He was at least trying to be a gentleman, even if her obvious distress set his teeth on edge.
He could see himself reflected in her gaze. But not as he was now—as the man he had been seven years ago. The boy, really. Tall and cold and calculating. Cruel. Is that what she still saw when she looked at him? He supposed she’d have no reason to see him any other way.
She was still much the same from the last he’d seen her. Her hair, golden and fluffy and glowing, floated around her shoulders in some perpetual cloud of sunlight. She’d cut the front pieces shorter to curl at her cheekbones. He liked it. It suited her. He’d always liked her hair.
Daisy. The name fit her so well. Light and bright and hopeful and sweet. Everything he wasn’t. He was glad to see she hadn’t lost her brightness, even after…after what had happened between them.
His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles turning white. She glanced at him then, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. He didn’t turn to look back at her. The leather of the steering wheel creaked beneath his forceful grip.
“We’re nearly there,” he said roughly, and she jumped slightly at his voice.
“Okay,” she replied, her voice soft.
The silence hung thick between them for an unbearably long moment.
“You…you live quite far out of town,” she said. He waited for a follow-up, a question, a comment, but none came.
“Yes,” he said, his voice stilted, “I needed the space to build the house.”
“Build?” she asked, a note of curiosity entering her tone.
