Page 32 of Arranged Wolf's Nanny
Rick had never felt like that about a female. But he knew it was in his very nature. Perhaps that’s why he had been soguarded for so long; if hedidclaim a female as his own, it would likely consume him, especially if she was as soft and sweet as Daisy.
Then again, he suspected he would need a female with a little bit more bite. A wildness to her, a savagery. An acceptance of her own nature as a shifter.
Rather against his will, his thoughts turned to Rosalia. To the flashes of the wolf he had seen in her, like when she stood between Eva and her father. He couldn’t be certain, but the potential was there. There was a whole world beneath the icy manners she used to keep others out.
He wondered what it would be like. To claim a female capable of the same ferociousness as he was, and have her willingly submit to him. Accept his protectiveness, his possessiveness, even though she was more than capable of standing on her own two feet.
Howexhilaratingit would be.
He thought of Rosalia, of her head held high as she met him at the altar. How despite her fear, she was capable of so muchmore.
Dane cleared his throat, and Rick snapped out of his thoughts with a blink.
“All good there?”
“Yes,” Rick ground out, his mood darkening, “I think I’ll retire now, if it’s all the same to you. Another time for that drink?”
Dane nodded slowly. “Sounds good. Give my love to Eva.”
As Rick said his goodbyes and climbed into his car, his muscles tense against the inevitable unease that would greet him at home, he fought to turn his mind away from Rosalia.
She didn’t want anything to do with him. That much was clear. And he would not touch a female who so obviously feared him.
For now, they would be stuck in their cool detachment.
And that wasfine.
***
When he got home, he was careful to open the door quietly. To move with slow, measured steps, so at odds with the irritation that had been bubbling in his chest ever since the pack meeting and Felix’s insistence that they stay out of any direct fights with the Black Claws.
Perhaps it was his wolf trying to prove he was no threat.
But inevitably, his adeptness at silent tracking proved to be his undoing as he followed the soft sounds of music and laughter coming from the library.
Neither Rosalia nor Eva had seemed to hear him arrive home.
He paused outside the library, one hand ready to push the door open. It was warm beneath his palm, no doubt a result of the crackling fire lit within. Golden light spilled out from the crack as he nudged the oak further open, glowing in the darkness of the rest of the house.
Something stopped him.
Eva and Rosalia were talking in low, friendly tones. Ever since Rosalia had decided to come out of her bedroom a few weeks ago, the two had become closer and closer. Eva spoke about her with excitement and something close to reverence whenever he asked her about her day, and Rick ignored whatever it was that tightened in his chest at her clear adoration.
He was glad they got on well. For Eva’s sake. That was it.
“—want to be a ballet dancer when I grow up,” Eva said, lisping slightly.
“I’m not surprised,” Rosalia replied, “you’re so good at it!”
Rick’s eyes widened at the warmth in her voice, his eyebrows drawing together into a small frown.
She sounded so different. So caring. Nothing at all like the usual frosty, clipped tones she used with him.
His jaw clenched.
“Not as good as you!” Eva said brightly. “Did you want to be a ballet dancer when you were little?”
Rosalia laughed, pure and sweet and real, rich as honey.
