Page 22 of Arranged Wolf's Nanny
“You may use the kitchens and library downstairs, as well as any of the communal rooms and gardens. I would ask that you refrain from entering my personal rooms, including my study. In addition, the cellar beneath the house links to a number of catacombs. I would not enter them unless you wish to find yourself lost.”
Her breathing was shallow, her blood thundering through her, adrenaline reeking from every pore.
“I’ve asked Daisy to visit you tomorrow to tell you more about pack activities and the ways in which you are welcome to get involved. I spend a lot of time performing my duties, and expect never to be disturbed while I am working. Is that understood?”
When she didn’t immediately respond, he turned around, scowling at her. “I said, is that understood?”
She swallowed, a slight tremble in her hands. “Yes, sir.”
Sir.
Fucking hell.
He opened the door to her bedroom with more force than was necessary, holding it open and allowing her inside. She crept past him, shrinking slightly from his body as her shoulder brushed his chest, into the room beyond.
Her things had already been unpacked by his staff, her more personal belongings neatly stacked on the vanity for her to do with as she pleased. She walked slowly to the four-poster bed, her pale hand trailing up the carved wood, skin nearly bloodless.
Noticing the staff had not drawn shut the doors to the balcony, he grunted in irritation, walking forwards to yank the doors shut and lock them with a click. Honestly, was it too much to ask that they properly prepare a bedroom for nighttime arrival? At least they’d remembered to light the lamps.
“Breakfast and lunch are casual,” he carried on as he drew the heavy velvet drapes shut, blocking out the cool summer night beyond. “I take a formal dinner with Eva. You are welcome to join us, or eat in the sun-room.”
He turned, ready to carry on his prepared lecture, but the words died on his lips.
Rosalia was in the process of removing her gown, unwinding the ribbons around her arms, and pulling loose the laces at her back.
Panic clawed his chest. “What are you doing?”
The bodice of the dress fell slack just as he spoke, pooling at her waist, revealing her naked breasts.
For a split second, he was rendered completely dumb.
He had known she was beautiful. But here, bathed in soft golden light, she seemed like a Grecian nymph from myth and legend. Her raven hair fell in soft waves past her slim shoulders, brushing against the sides of her perfectly rounded breasts, each one peaked with a dusky rose nipple. The gentle dip of her stomach, slender yet soft, moved sensually as she reached down to her hip. The delicate curve of her neck was revealed as she tilted her chin to the side, her scent thick and delicious there. Hewanted to lunge for her, take her in his arms, claim her the way only a male could.
But then she looked up with dull eyes and a set jaw. “I’m undressing.”
Eyes falling back to her hands, she continued fiddling with the fastenings, her milky skin near marble in the lamp-light.
“Stop,” he said, the word barely above a whisper.
It was as if she hadn’t heard him. Her expression remained impassive, but her fingers attacked a stubborn knot at her hip with fervor, the digits trembling as she pulled and wrenched at the fabric with increasing desperation.
“Stop,” he said again, lunging forward to grab her wrists.
She looked up at him in shock, her muscles freezing under his touch. He saw himself reflected in her eyes then, tall and imposing andthreatening.
He let go of her like her skin had scalded him. The shame hit a second later.
It was only then that life seemed to return to her face. She stumbled back, hands crossing over her breasts to cover herself as tears welled in her eyes and her lip quivered. Her chest rose and fell as she looked at him with dawning panic. “I’m sorry…I…I…I didn’t mean to…I…”
“It’s fine,” he said, his voice gruff as he drew his hand over his face, “it’s my fault, I should have been clear with you.”
She was crying now, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, fingers digging into the flesh of her arms, stomach trembling as she fought to suppress her sobs. For a brief, wild moment, he wanted to take her into his arms.
But he didn’t. Robotically, he turned around, allowing her to pull the dress back over herself.
“I never intended to consummate the marriage,” he said, wincing over the words, fists bunching at his sides, “I had thought you would know that.”
“I’m so sorry…I didn’t think that…but…but if we don’t, then…”
