Page 13 of Bad Wolf's Nanny
She was too tightly wound, too proper, too proud.
And yet…there was something in the way she fumbled for words. The way she looked at the others at the bar was with hesitant hope. It wasn’t arrogance. It was…fear.
She didn’t trust anyone. Least of all him.
Nothing made a predator more curious than skittish prey.
Dane blew out a breath, shaking his head as he rounded the corner onto South Oak Drive. He shouldn’t be curious. Not now. Not with tensions rising on the borders and Felix already breathing down his neck about pack security. The last thing he needed was a jittery academic scowling at him with berry-red lips yet looking at him with naked curiosity of her own when she thought he wasn’t looking. She’d only been here three days, for God’s sake.
Lost in his reverie, he was halfway up the street before he noticed her.
There, under the soft yellow light above the apartment complex entrance, Lola stood at her door, frowning furiously at the lock. She was muttering to herself, gripping a keyring with both hands, her brows furrowed in frustration.
He stopped in his tracks.
She lived here?
Right next door to him?
The universe had a sick sense of humor.
For a long beat, he just stared, surprised. Then a slow, entirely inappropriate grin tugged at his lips.
This was going to beinteresting.
He approached without thinking. “Having trouble there, love?”
She jumped, spinning around, “You!” she hissed, clearly startled. “Why are you sneaking up on me?”
Dane lifted his hands innocently, “Wasn’t sneaking. I live here.”
She blinked, stunned, her mouth opening and closing several times before she managed to blurt out, “Youwhat?”
He pointed to the door beside hers. “Apartment 4B.”
She looked at him with blatant shock, then at the door, then back at him. “No. Absolutely not.”
He leaned against the railing, amused. “Afraid so. Looks like we’re neighbors.”
She groaned, turning back to the lock and jiggling the key again, “Ofcourse,you live next door. Because why wouldn’t the universe hate me just that much?”
“Careful,” he drawled, “you’re starting to sound like you’re not thrilled to see me.”
Her response was to shove the key with unnecessary aggression. The slight blush staining her cheeks didn’t escape his notice.
“You know,” he said, stepping forward, “if you’d stop fighting it and try asking it nicely, that door might actually open.”
“Iamasking it nicely,” she snapped.
“That’s your nice voice?” he raised an eyebrow. “Terrifying.”
Before she could argue, he reached around her, close enough to smell her perfume, something delicate and expensive and infuriatingly perfect, and gave the handle a firm jerk. The door gave a heavy creak and swung open.
Lola stared at it like it had betrayed her. “Iloosenedit,” she mumbled.
“Sure you did.”
She glared up at him. “I don’t need your help, you know.”
