Page 70 of Arranged Wolf's Nanny

Eva reached for him, small fingers curling around his, “Papa?”

“Yes?”

“Is Rosalia near?”

He stilled. “Yes. She’s just next door.”

“Good,” Eva’s eyes drooped, voice a whisper. “I like her.”

Something tugged sharply at his chest, and he bent to press a kiss against her curls. “Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll be close.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

She sighed, burrowing deeper into the blankets. Within moments, her breathing evened, soft and steady.

Rick sat there longer than he needed to, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the way the light caught on her lashes. There were a few moments in his life when he felt anything like peace. This…this small, fragile warmth was one of them.

At last, he rose silently, easing the door shut behind him.

***

He found Rosalia at the writing desk in her room, bent over crisp stationery. Her hair tumbled loose over her shoulders, her emerald dress folded neatly over the back of a chair, leaving her in a plain shift of ivory silk. She looked almost like a girl again, pen poised delicately between her fingers, lips pursed as she searched for words.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching. For a moment, he let himself simply look. The elegant line of her neck, the flicker of concentration in her moss-colored eyes, the faint crease between her brows.

“Rosalia,” he said at last, his voice low enough not to wake Eva through the wall.

Rosalia startled, turning quickly. A flush rose to her cheeks. “Rick! I…I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “Why not?”

She studied him then, pen still between her fingers. “You’re angry.”

It wasn’t a question.

Rick exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. He crossed to the window, tugging the drape aside to look out at the city lights. “The Black Claws called me out. They knew everything. Every move I’d made, every plan I’d laid. Gone in an instant. Months of work, wasted.”

He felt her gaze on his back but pressed on, voice sharp, “I’d planned for it, of course. I knew they’d sniff around eventually. No laws were broken. Nothing can be pinned. But it doesn’t matter. The moment is gone. We’ve lost the advantage.”

Rosalia’s voice was soft, but steady. “You did your best.”

Rick barked a laugh, humorless. “You sound like Felix.”

“Maybe Felix is right.”

He turned then, fixing her with a look. “Right? He tells me to cool off while those bastards are laughing into their drinks, congratulating themselves because they think they’ve outmaneuvered me. They think I’m losing my edge.”

Her eyes did not waver. “Why does it matter what they think?”

“Perception is everything,” he growled, biting each syllable, “a lesson I’d think you know better than anyone.”

Her eyes grew slightly frosty. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He considered her a moment before sighing and crossing the room, placing his hands on her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her head. She rose, turning in his arms, resting them against him chest. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

Her eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline, “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you use the word sorry.”