Page 32 of Bully Wolf's Nanny
“You are?” Daisy asked at the same time as Thea whined, “But I want to come!”
“Yes, I am. And no, you can’t. It’s a grown-up restaurant for grown-ups only.”
Thea huffed, and Nicolas shot her a wink. “But I’ll see if I can sneak you in for lunch tomorrow. How about that?”
This seemed to mollify Thea, who apparently decided she’d had quite enough of talking to them and dove back into the pillow fort.
“We’re going out to dinner?” asked Daisy, a hint of apprehension in her tone.
“We are,” he said. “In fact, if you go to your room, you’ll find a gown in your closet to wear. That is, if you’ll accept it?”
Daisy raised an eyebrow, but nodded cautiously.
“Excellent. Our car arrives in two hours.”
***
As predicted, the dress he had picked out for Daisy fit her like a glove.
It was dark red, with a sweetheart bustier that clung to her curves before sweeping out into an elegant satin skirt that swirled around her feet like water. She’d curled her hair into soft, romantic waves, half-pinned behind her head, and colored her lips crimson to match the dress. All in all, it was the perfect combination of sweet and sexy, and she had turned nearly every head in the restaurant as they swept inside.
“I’m sure I’ve told you how beautiful you look,” Nicolas said, sitting back and swirling his whiskey around his glass as he watched her take elegant bites of the strawberry mousse she had chosen for dessert.
Daisy blushed, glancing at him from under her lashes, a small smile on her lips. “Yes, you have. A few times actually. And I’ve reminded you of how…dashing you look.”
“Dashing?” he said, his eyebrow quirking. “Quite the compliment.”
The restaurant he had chosen was perfect. Its elegance was understated, he couldn’t bear anything too gauche, but the chef had multiple awards, and the wine list dated back to 1874. Low piano music drifted over the spice-scented air, the lighting dim to allow gold-flaked candles to flicker and bathe the diners in a warm glow.
The truth was, Nicolas was launching an attack.
He had decided that night in the woods, when they had run together as wolves, he was sick and tired of denying what was between them. He had given her space to adjust, to get to know him again, to begin to trust him after everything, but now he was running out of patience.
He had decided he wanted her. And so he would have her. It was as simple as that.
He knew Daisy. He had known her for years. There was no doubt that she had been tying herself in knots over the past few weeks, denying her attraction, forcing herself to resist him. It seemed it was down to him to take that first step forwards, and he was only too glad to do so.
And while he was well aware that her affection would not be bought with pretty dresses and fancy dinners, it certainly couldn’t hurt.
“So what’s Felix’s deal?” Daisy asked, deceptively neutral.
Nicolas raised an eyebrow. So all it took was three glasses of an excellent vintage for her to finally pluck up the courage to ask more about the pack. She was getting more comfortable.
“What do you mean, his deal?” he asked, careful to keep his tone light.
Daisy waved her spoon around. “You know, his deal? Why did he do what he did? I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, quite the opposite in fact, but it can’t have been easy.”
Hazy memories flashed behind his eyes in quick succession. Orders to join the front lines. Anger and rage and plotting. Blood between his teeth.
“No,” he said, “it wasn’t easy at all.”
“My father won’t talk about it,” Daisy said, “ever since he broke faith and moved with mom out west. It’s like his time with the Iron Walkers never happened.”
“I always thought you left with them,” Nicolas replied. He couldn’t remember much about Daisy’s family. Her mother was human, he was fairly sure of that, and although her father had been an alpha, he hadn’t stood out in the pack. A foot soldier. Middle-rung.
Daisy shrugged, her muscles tensing slightly. “I didn’t like the sound of Los Angeles.”
He’d picked up on that little quirk of hers. Whenever they strayed into territory she was uncomfortable with, she focused all her energy on her words. She forgot that her body told him much more of a story than whatever carefully curated nonsense she came up with. Mostly it was when he talked about her family. Or about Thea’s father.
