Page 51 of Bad Wolf's Nanny

She turned toward him, “Sam?”

He nodded.

“Of course I care about him. He’s…he’s just a baby. He didn’t ask for any of this.”

“And Dane?”

Lola’s throat went dry.

“I care about him, too. But that’s none of your business.”

Rick turned back toward her, his expression unreadable. “That’s where you’re wrong. It’s all of our business now.”

Before she could ask what the hell he meant by that, the sound of the front door opening cut through the moment like a blade.

Boots on the floor.

A gust of cold air.

And then…Dane.

He stepped inside, shoulders hunched, shirt stained with dried mud and blood, eyes like thunderclouds. He took in the scene in two heartbeats, Rick standing too close, Lola tense and pale.

“What are you doing here?” Dane’s voice was low. Sharp.

Rick straightened, not at all fazed. “Checking in. Felix’s orders.”

“She’s not a threat.”

“Didn’t say she was.” Rick gave Lola a last, unreadable look before brushing past Dane toward the door. “Just being thorough. You’d do the same.”

Dane blocked the doorway for half a second longer than necessary. Then stepped aside.

Rick left with a polite, “Goodnight.”

The door shut behind him.

Lola let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

Dane turned to her. His face was unreadable, but his energy buzzed, protective, coiled, furious.

“What did he say to you?” he asked.

She swallowed. “He asked about Sam. About you. About how I feel.”

Dane groaned, running a hand down his face. “Fucking Rick.”

Lola swallowed, but chose not to reply.

He looked like he’d been through hell.

His clothes were streaked with dried mud, his knuckles scraped raw, and there was a tightness to his jaw that hadn’t been there before. But it wasn’t just the physical exhaustion that made her breath catch; it was the look in his eyes. Dark. Frustrated. Too many emotions forced down behind a scowl.

She didn’t know what to say.

So she said the most obvious thing. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.”