Page 41 of Arranged Wolf's Nanny
Rick sneered, revealing the barest hint of his teeth. “And I’d like to make sure mywifeis well.”
The two men stared each other down, but eventually, her father had to relent.
Her stomach roiled with nausea. He would not be pleased about that.
“Of course,” her father said, giving her a smile. “I’ll see you later, Rosalia.”
“Yes, Father,” she said, trying not to tremble as he released her and stalked out, barely missing colliding with Rick as he went.
Rick watched him go, predator eyes trained on his retreating form. Only when he was content that her father was gone did he turn to her, expression hard.
“Rosalia—” he began, but she was already moving. Already dabbing at her eyes with a tissue and pasting a smile on her face.
“It’s fine, really,” she said, “it’s as he said. I just got a bit…overwhelmed. That’s all.”
Rick didn’t look like he believed her for a second. She didn’t care.
This was not his battle to fight.
“Rosalia, if he’s threatening you inmyhome—”
“If you’d excuse me,” she said, slipping past him, “I’d really like to go wash my face and see to our guests.”
He didn’t reply as she all but ran away from him, dread pooling in her stomach at the anger on his face—no doubt also furious that she would dare interrupt him, on top of the insult of her father’s behavior. She could only thank her lucky stars that Rick had only heard her father’s last sentence and not the vitriol that had come before.
There would no doubt be a reckoning. Both with her father and with her husband.
For now, she would clean her face, and she would go and find Eva, and she would try to salvage what happiness she could from the day.
Chapter 10 - Rick
Rick had never suffered fools easily. But one of the only things on this planet guaranteed to make him lose his grip on his patience was someone believing him to be a fool.
And John Heath, in all his arrogance, had made that mistake.
Rick had kept his distance from Rosalia for the rest of the party, allowing her to enjoy the wonderful day she had organized for his daughter. The two of them were as thick as thieves, running about the place, laughing together, watching the ballet.
He had stayed beyond it all, a drink in hand, his pack brothers coming one by one to check in on him. They were, all of them, quick to work it out. He didn’t need to say a word. One look at his narrowed gaze following John Heath’s every breath was enough for them to piece it together.
Heath bore Rick’s fury with practiced ease, never once meeting his eye, never once rising to the bait.
Rick had hoped he would look over. Had hoped he would sneer, growl, mock. Doanythingto give Rick the excuse he needed to drag him into the woods and rip him limb from limb.
But the older male was cunning. Patient. Infuriatingly controlled. And before the sun had even begun to set, he said his goodbyes to Felix and left with his men. He didn’t say a word to Rick. Or Rosalia.
Perhaps he knew that would be pushing Rick too far.
Because there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that Heath knew Rick didn’t believe his lies for a second. He hadn’t beenchecking inon Rosalia. Or giving hertough love.
He had been treating her as he always had. With cruelty, disdain, and mockery.
Except the difference was, Rosalia was no longer just Heath’s daughter.
She was a Reinhardt. She was hiswife. She was in his house and under his protection.
And he wouldnothave her threatened under his roof. Not as long as she called it home.
So yes, John Heath thought him a fool if he didn’t expect that one day, sooner or later, Rick would deliver unto him every ounce of cruelty he had ever shown Rosalia.
