Page 44 of Alpha Wolf's Nanny
Felix clenched his jaw, matching her faster pace. Her smaller frame was practically marching now, each step laced with frustration, or maybe embarrassment. Probably both. He hated that he’d put that look on her face again, the one that braced for rejection. Like she was preparing to be discarded before it even happened.
“Cassie,” he said, a little more gently, “can you slow down?”
She didn’t look at him, but her steps faltered. That was something.
“It wasn’t about not wanting to see you again,” he continued, “it was about control. You were right, I said we should keep things professional. I didn’t want there to be any confusion after our night together. And then I broke that. I kissed you. That’s on me.”
“You think I regret it?” she asked softly.
The question caught him off guard.
He stopped walking. So did she, a few paces ahead, her back to him. The forest around them was quiet. He could hear the beating of her heart.
“I don’t,” she said, still not turning. “Regret it, I mean. That you kissed me.”
Felix closed the distance between them, slowly, cautiously. He didn’t touch her this time, just stepped close enough that his presence was unmistakable.
“I don’t either,” he said, “not for a second.”
She finally turned to face him. Her eyes searched his, trying to find the lie. He let her look.
“I wanted to kiss you when I found you in that stream,” he admitted, voice rough. “I’ve wanted to kiss you every time I see how wonderfully you take care of my boys. I wanted to kiss you in the hall yesterday. You have no idea how much I wanted you. How much I still want you.”
Her lips parted, and for a moment she said nothing. “Then why do you keep pushing me away?”
Felix let out a long breath, dragging a hand through his hair. “Because if I let myself have you, even for a moment, I won’t want to stop. And I can’t promise you a simple life, Cassie. Not with who I am. What I am. I’m a shifter. You’re a human. We’re not…this isn’t…we’re not compatible.”
“I don’t care,” she blurted out.
The words hung there between them like an open door.
Felix stepped closer until the scent of her reached his nose, fig trees in spring. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She didn’t flinch.
“I’m not good at this,” he said. “At…being close. Or soft. Or even honest, most of the time.”
She gave a soft snort. “You don’t say.”
He huffed a short laugh, and some of the tension cracked around them. He let his hand fall away, but not far, just to hover near her waist.
“You scare the hell out of me,” he said.
Cassie blinked. “I do?”
“You’re not from here. You don’t know our laws, our traditions, our territory. You were thrown into our world and still walked in like you had every right to belong. You’re brave, Cassie. And brave people get hurt.”
She considered him for a long moment. There was something in her eyes, something impossibly sad, something older than her years. Felix got the distinct sense that he had just walked into something that he didn’t understand, something that truly did scare him. Then, in a voice just above a whisper, she said, “I’m not brave, Felix. I’ve never been brave.”
Felix didn’t answer that. He didn’t know how. Whatever it was that had scared her, that scared her still; it ran deep. Instead, he said, “I think I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt you again.”
Her breath hitched. She stepped forward, just a little, her boots scuffing the dirt. Her gaze lifted to his, and this time there was no flinching.
“I’m not sure you know quite how much that means to me,” she said.
The silence stretched again, but it wasn’t awkward. It was thick with something else. Anticipation, maybe. Or inevitability.
His fingers brushed her hip.
Her fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt.
