Page 64 of Arranged Wolf's Nanny
The same was, of course, also true for his daughter. Eva sat opposite them, bouncing in her seat, singing along to the movie playing on her tablet.
“That’s a pretty song,” Rosalia said, smiling up at Eva, who grinned widely.
“Thank you, it’s my favorite!”
“Perhaps we should get you some singing lessons,” Rick said absent-mindedly. “I suspect your piano tutor might know someone.”
Her face fell. It was only small, a tiny crumpling of her little brow, but he caught it. A dimming of her weightless happiness.
“Or, you could just carry on singing,” he said quickly, “if that’s what you prefer. For your own enjoyment.”
Her eyes widened, “Really?”
He smiled indulgently, “Really. If it makes you happy.”
She nodded vigorously, “It does!” Then, she turned back to her tablet and began singing again, louder than before. It wasn’t perfect; she missed more notes than she hit, but the radiant joy on her face was all he needed to see.
Rosalia nudged his side, and he glanced down to see her smiling at him, her eyes sparkling.
“What?” he asked, brows knitting together.
“Nothing,” she said, her smile widening. “Why don’t you get back to your papers?”
He huffed, shuffling the papers in question in front of him.
Truthfully, he hadn’t been able to concentrate much on them. He was too wired. Too ready for the upcoming challenge. He had spent weeks preparing, making sureeverythingwas in line, so that when he walked into that first introductory meeting, he could quickly and brutally disarm the Black Claws before they had the chance to even speak.
The thrill of anticipation sang in his blood.
It wouldn’t be long now.
Rick adjusted the cuff of his charcoal jacket, eyes trained on the view spilling beneath the plane window as they descended into Washington. City lights stretched like molten veins across the dark earth, flickering orange and white. He could see Rosalia’s reflection in the glass, a faint blur, but enough to catch the ready eagerness in her face.
She wouldn’t be allowed into the actual meetings, as she wasn’t technically a member of the Iron Walker inner circle yet, but she could take the opportunity to get a sense of things. Find her footing. And he could smell the excitement wafting from her at the challenge.
And the fear.
She masked it well, burying it deep, but it was there. It didn’t surprise him. It was in the flutter of her pulse, the white of her knuckles as she held her book.
The Black Claws would be present, and her father.
But Rick was there too, and only the Iron Walkers knew of her involvement in the demise of the three Black Claws. The size of the target on her back remained unchanged.
But there was a target, nonetheless.
He shifted in his seat, jaw clenching. He had killed for her before, and he would kill for her again.
As the plane landed, jolting slightly against the tarmac, it occurred to Rick that the depth of his feelings for her ran much deeper than he had previously anticipated. Than he had previously accounted for. He was not a man to open his heart readily.
The truth sat inside him, an uncomfortable wrinkle in his otherwise meticulously crafted sense of self.
It wasn’t the sex. He had never gotten attached before. He had, in fact, lived his life comfortable in the assumption that when he did finally settle down, allow a female behind his carefully constructed walls, it would be entirely due to his own conscious choice.
To have such things dictated by mere…emotion…
It irritated him. But at the same time, his wolf was simple in its approach.
Mine. That’s all there is to it.
