Page 15 of Bully Wolf’s Nanny (Silvermist Wolves #1)

Taking Thea to go and see Mamma Mia had apparently produced a new-found obsession for ABBA in the little girl, and she had insisted they listen to nothing else on the car journey home.

Luckily for her, Nicolas was far too content to argue, instead basking in Daisy and Thea’s happy singing and Gracie’s excitable gurgles.

As they drew closer to Silvermist, the trees growing closer and thicker, Nicolas couldn’t help but glance over at Daisy in the seat next to him.

She was glowing. Her beautiful blonde hair was thrown up in a messy bun, and her face was free of any makeup, but still she shone more beautiful than anything he had ever seen before in his life.

She must have felt the weight of his gaze because she glanced over, a shy smile on her face when their eyes met. It was the promise of something new. Something good.

Nicolas turned back to the road, a satisfied smirk on his face. The trip had, all in all, been a roaring success. He’d finally reclaimed the only girl he’d ever truly wanted. She was his.

They hadn’t discussed how things might change moving forward. Nicolas hadn’t felt any particular need to. But he would move at whatever pace Daisy felt comfortable with. After all, there was nothing in their way. They could enjoy their time together. Nothing needed to be rushed.

Even if he would be quite happy to put a ring on her finger that very moment.

The long afternoon was waning into evening as they approached the house.

Thea had mostly worn herself out after multiple renditions of “Dancing Queen” and “Waterloo,” and was currently humming happily along to the music as she gazed out the window.

Gracie, too, strapped in her car seat, had fallen asleep.

“So what happens now?” Daisy asked softly, quiet enough that only he could hear her.

He gave her a lazy grin. “Well, I think we should get the girls settled in bed and then we can—”

“Not that!” Daisy’s cheeks turned delightfully pink, but still she smiled to herself. “I mean, am I still your nanny?”

“Is this you telling me you quit?”

“No! I mean, maybe? I don’t know.”

“We don’t have to decide anything right now,” he said, voice turning more serious. “After all, we’re probably breaking a hundred employer-employee rules and regulations.”

“Surprisingly, we’re not,” Daisy said. “There’s nothing in my contract that forbids sleeping with the boss.”

“Looking carefully for that clause, were you?”

“Stop it,” she lightly batted his arm, “what kind of adult would I be if I didn’t read my contract properly?”

“Oh I don’t know, one that has a devilishly handsome boss?”

She shook her head, a small smile tugging on the corner of her lips as he pulled in front of the house. Daisy immediately climbed out of the car, carefully gathering Gracie up in her arms. His daughter’s sleeping head lolled against Daisy’s shoulder, a small line of drool dribbling down her dress.

“Come on, Thea,” Daisy coaxed, “it’s time for your dinner.”

Thea yawned and clambered out of the car, rubbing her eyes with one hand and blindly waving the other for Nicolas to take. He chuckled and let her grasp onto his fingers and pull him towards the house.

The fact that Daisy had a daughter had certainly been a shock to him back when they had first reunited at the agency.

He was ashamed to admit that his instant reaction was one of possessive anger.

But since getting to know the little girl, he was becoming increasingly fond of her.

It was clear how much Daisy adored her, and in turn Nicolas found his furious thoughts about the girl’s father were far from his mind.

He was well aware of what a hypocrite it made him to feel anger over Daisy being with another man. After all, his daughter was the reason she was here. But he was an alpha.

Still. It was hardly Thea’s fault that her father was clearly some lowlife who had disappeared the first chance he got. And he was missing out on a wonderful daughter.

Before he could reach the front door, it was opened for him by his cleaner, who looked between him and Daisy with a decidedly guilty look on her face.

“Julia?” Nicolas asked, raising an eyebrow. Daisy had stopped just behind him, her hand running soothing circles over Gracie’s back.

“Welcome back, sir,” Julia said, folding her hands neatly in front of her, her wrinkled face nevertheless twisting with embarrassment. “Um…there’s someone here to see you, sir. She was quite insistent. I had to let her in.”

Nicolas frowned. “Who? Why the hell didn’t security stop her? Or alert me?”

Julia gulped. “She asked them not to, sir. She said it might make you angry. And, well…”

“Julia,” Nicolas said, his tone darkening, “you better tell me what is going on right now, or else—"

“Nicolas?” a falsetto voice rang out through the hall, before a tall, willowy woman with pin-straight caramel hair pushed past Julia. “Oh, Nicolas! I’m so pleased to see you!”

The woman threw herself into his arms, forcing him to let go of Thea’s hand to catch her before she sent them both tumbling down the porch step.

“Francesca?” he gasped, pushing the woman out of his arms to get a good look at her face.

There was no doubt about it. It was the same sharp cheekbones, the perfectly rouged lips, the fluttering brown eyes.

Francesca was here. In his house.

Gracie’s mother.

“Francesca, what the hell are you doing here?”

She didn’t answer, her gaze instead tracking over his shoulder, to where Daisy stood behind him, a look of pure shock on her face.

“Is that…? Oh, it is!” Without waiting for permission, Francesca launched past him and snatched Gracie away from Daisy, twirling her around.

The sudden motion woke Gracie rather abruptly, and she screamed in irritation before settling into a steady bawl.

“Oh, my baby,” Francesca simpered, patting her back, “don’t cry, don’t cry! Your mommy’s here now!”

If anything, Gracie just sobbed even harder.

Nicolas turned to Daisy. The shock on her face was fading into a sort of resigned dull mask, one he recognized well.

“Right,” she said quietly. “I’ll go and start on dinner. Thea, come on.”

“Oh, are you the maid?” Francesca said, casting a critical eye over Daisy. “If you could prepare my room that would be wonderful.”

“I’m the nanny,” Daisy said, her throat audibly thick, “but, of course. I’ll get it all sorted for you.”

“Thank you so much,” Francesca simpered.

“Daisy, wait,” Nicolas caught her wrist before she could escape into the house with Thea, “this isn’t—"

“It’s okay.” She turned back and gave him an entirely unconvincing smile. “I’ll let you two catch up.”

She turned and pulled her hand back, disappearing into the hallway, Julia following her with frantic, wringing hands.

Francesca’s nose curled slightly. “That’s your nanny? Really, Nicolas, where did you hire her?”

Nicolas’s teeth ground together, and he took Gracie from Francesca’s grasp. “Inside. Now.”

Francesca shrugged and waltzed inside, smoothing down the fabric of her satin pencil skirt as she went.

Nicolas brushed past her and headed for the parlor.

“Of course, I’m sure she’s perfectly qualified,” she continued with a noticeable aura of haughtiness as they walked, “but I’m surprised she doesn’t have a uniform of some sorts.

I mean, that dress? It looks like something a little girl would wear. ”

“Francesca,” Nicolas said, his voice heavy with warning, “I would ask you not to disrespect my staff in my house.”

Francesca’s shoulders stiffened momentarily, before she spun around, all fluttering eyelashes and pouting lips. “Oh, I meant no disrespect at all! I just worry about our little girl, that’s all. It breaks my heart that another woman has been looking after her, and I only want the best for her!”

“Only the best?” Nicolas ground out, his eyes narrowing. “Surely you’re joking.”

“I would never joke about our daughter,” she replied, one hand clutching her chest. “I can’t believe you would even think that!”

Nicolas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I need a drink.”

Francesca pouted again, taking Gracie from him and sitting primly down into a plush armchair by the fireplace, one long leg crossing over the other, Gracie bouncing on her lap.

Nicolas allowed it only to free up his hands to pour himself a strong scotch from the crystal decanter ready and waiting on the built-in marble shelves of the parlor.

Gracie fidgeted in Francesca’s lap, clearly uncomfortable with how she was positioned, her large eyes filling with tears ready for a fresh temper tantrum. Looking at Francesca’s wobbling lip, Nicolas wasn’t certain his daughter would be the only one throwing a fit.

Francesca was making a show of fussing over Gracie, tapping her nose and cooing, making all the appropriate sounds whilst glancing over to make sure Nicolas was watching. He raised an eyebrow at the performance, and then lowered himself into the seat opposite.

“Well,” he said, “I’m all ears. What are you doing here?”

Francesca flipped her caramel hair over her shoulder with well-practiced ease. “I’m here to be a mother to my daughter. Why else would I be here?”

“You seem to be forgetting,” Nicolas replied, struggling to keep the venom from his tone, “that I am her sole legal guardian. You had the chance to be her mother. You gave it up. As I told the lawyers, I was more than willing to share guardianship; you wanted nothing to do with her.”

He remembered the day she had appeared on his doorstep with Gracie as clearly as if it were yesterday.

He had barely recognized her. Sure, she had all the same luxury designer clothes, perfectly styled hair, immaculate nails and so on.

Even only days after giving birth. But in the cold, harsh light of day he struggled to place the stunning woman in front of him, only snatching vague recollections of wine-haze and sultry music of some party or other from the dim recesses of his mind.

As far as he was concerned, she was only one of a long line of one-night stands, and a barely memorable one at that.

She had smelled like wolf musk. He remembered that much, but only because it had been off-putting.

She was definitely human, but it seemed she had sprayed herself with one of those tacky pheromone perfumes meant to attract shifters like him.

Drunk as he was, he hadn’t cared to do anything other than wrinkle his nose and roll his eyes, but it had stuck out to him.

Human women of Francesca’s type rarely went in for cheap tricks when trying to bag themselves a shifter.

They relied on other, more subtle means.

He was coming to learn that there was absolutely nothing subtle about Francesca.

“Oh Nicolas, you’ve got it all wrong!” she said, artfully dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. “I couldn’t tell you the real reason I had to give Gracie up. I couldn’t tell anyone! I was in danger! Giving her to you was the only way to keep her safe.”

“Explain,” he replied, tapping his finger against the glass.

She sniffed delicately, hugging Gracie close to her chest. “It was my boyfriend. I admit when we had our…tryst…I was in a relationship. I wanted to leave, I wanted to so badly. He was awful, Nicolas, absolutely awful!”

Nicolas didn’t reply. He wouldn’t have cared if she was in a relationship when they slept together, and he certainly didn’t care now.

Sensing his frosty displeasure, Francesca pushed on, “When he found out I was pregnant, he…he…” she paused, fixing her gaze out the window, eyebrows quivering.

“Well. Let’s just say shifters aren’t the only ones with a temper.

Aren’t the only ones who can…hit people,” she added on the end, just in case he hadn’t managed to get her point.

As if it were possible not to get her point.

“It’s truly unfortunate that your partner was abusive,” he said curtly. “I hope you are well and safe. But that still doesn’t answer my question. What are you doing here, now?”

He didn’t miss the slight hint of steel in her eyes at his less-than-enthusiastic response. What was she expecting? Him to leap from his chair, apoplectic with wrath at the harming of the mother of his child, and swear his eternal love and devotion to her?

Please.

Shifters were protective. That was no secret.

Alphas were protective of their mates, parents of their children, packs of their territory.

But it wasn’t like the mere mention of harm to someone they might happen to know would send them into a protective rage.

That was a reductive stereotype believed by humans.

“I finally escaped him,” Francesca said with a sickly-sweet smile. “I’m free! And all I want to do is be in Gracie’s life again.”

She spoke the words as if laying out a gift at his feet, clearly expecting him to fall to his knees in gratitude. Or at least, hoping that he would.

“Francesca,” he said, crossing his legs, “let me make this plain. You cannot just show up on my doorstep, one year after giving up Gracie entirely, and demand to be let back into her life. I am truly sorry that your circumstances did not allow you to keep her, but it was your choice not to share that information with me at the time.”

She opened her mouth to protest, and he held up his hand to silence her.

“I refuse to believe you are idiotic enough to think that an abusive partner could have prevented me from keeping you safe to co-parent Gracie. I appreciate that you may not have been in a stable frame of mind, and again, I am sorry for that. But you did the right thing. You ensured Gracie would be safe. And you decided that would be without you in her life. You cannot now disrupt her entire existence because you’ve decided you want to be a mother again.

You certainly cannot show up unannounced at my house and demand it. ”

Francesca’s lips pursed slightly, but then she reached down into the red leather bag at her side, pulling out a thick cream envelope. With a slight flourish, she handed it to him.

With narrowed eyes not leaving her form, he took it, the card heavy in his hand.

“What is this?”

“Open it and see,” she said, “because I’m afraid to say, I think you’ll find I can .”