Page 62 of Arranged Wolf's Nanny
A thrilling anticipation shot down her spine.
“Very well,” he rumbled, hands splayed out on the desk, “I await your permission.”
“Thank you,” she said, unable to keep the haughty satisfaction out of her voice.
His head tilted, “There was a time you used to call mesirwhen you thanked me.”
“Why should I call you sir when, in this instance, you’re the one agreeing to do my bidding? If anything, you should be calling memy lady.”
“Is that what you want?” he asked, his voice soft and dangerous, “Me on my knees before you?”
There was something so deadly in his voice, something so challenging and dominant, that Rosalia had to fight not to drop her eyes from him and submit. They’d flirted around this, around somethingdarkerin their couplings.
It intrigued her. Had woken something inside her.
But it also scared her. And after a conversation about her father…
She wasn’t sure she was ready for the full force of Rick’s darkness. She wasn’t sure she was ready to release her own.
“There was a time I wanted to be the leader of a pack,” she said, with a small huff of laughter, turning back to the fire. “Can you believe it?”
“Yes,” replied Rick without hesitation, “and you’d have made a fantastic leader. Your father is an idiot. All males who buy intohumangender norms are idiots.”
She raised an eyebrow, “Like we don’t have our own gender norms? For every female alpha, there are at least ten males.”
“We all have our part to play,” he said, “balance is everything. And physical strength doesn’t necessitate leadership. Felix is trying to show that. He wants Lola in the inner circle, as one of our leaders. If it’s something you want, then I’m sure he’d give you the opportunity as well.”
“Me?” Rosalia asked, her voice rising in surprise. “What could I do?”
Rick rolled his eyes, “Why do you think I’ve been giving you books on law and politics and the like? You have a natural talent for it. And diplomacy. Perhaps Accord meetings would be altogether more civilizedwithoutso many alphas trying to negotiate with the humans.”
Unbidden, tears pricked her eyes. “You…you really mean it?”
He seemed shocked at her sudden intensity, blinking at her. “Yes, of course I do.”
She rounded the desk, closing the distance between them, throwing her arms around his waist. “I would like that. I would really like that.”
He paused, and then his arms settled around her, heavy and comforting. “Then I’ll speak to Felix about it.”
They stood there for longer than Rosalia had dared hope he would allow, and she basked in the comfort he gave her. The warmth. Her heart fluttered, and she swallowed, her throat thick.
She didn’t know what she felt for him. Felt about him. But she didn’t want it to go away.
“Rick,” she asked, her voice small, “can I ask you something?”
He stiffened, and her heart jumped. She was playing with fire here, she knew. But she had questions for him. So many questions. And she wanted him to trust her enough to talk to her.
“Yes,” he said, his voice low and cautious.
She pulled back, resting her chin on his chest as she looked up at him, “Eva’s mother…”
His dark eyes flashed, a muscle in his jaw clenching, “Ah. That.”
He pulled away, and she immediately missed the warmth of his body against hers. Her anxiety told her to apologies, to take it back, but she sucked in a deep breath. If she wanted him to trust her, she would also have to trust him.
He paced in front of the fire, jaw working as he seemingly searched for the right words.
“Her name is Zara,” he said at last, almost spitting the word. “What do you want to know?”
