Page 17 of Bully Wolf’s Nanny (Silvermist Wolves #1)

Several weeks had passed since Francesca had arrived, the long summer days giving way to the golden leaves of autumn.

Pack activity was ramping up in anticipation of the upcoming autumn celebrations, and Nero was abuzz with the upcoming merger with Harper.

Nicolas was finding his days full from dawn until dusk, and often late into the night as well.

He hated it. Hated being away from home so much. Hated that Daisy and Francesca were left alone for such long stretches of time.

Because despite what she might think, Francesca wasn’t nearly as careful as she thought when it came to her treatment of Daisy.

Oh sure, she was all simpering smiles and manners when Nicolas was around.

She would dare to go as far as the small, subtle dig, but on the whole she was a complete delight.

But she had forgotten one crucial detail.

Nicolas was a shifter. With all the advanced senses that she herself lacked as an ordinary human.

His hearing, for one. He could hear most things that went on in the house from rooms away. And he could hear exactly how Francesca spoke to Daisy when she thought they were alone.

He’d only caught snippets here and there.

Cruel comments that could be written off as a joke or banter.

Comments about Daisy’s clothes, or her hair, or her intelligence.

Things meant to undermine her, to tear her down, all with the pretense of friendly wit.

Daisy bore it all with the patience of a saint.

Nicolas had gotten involved once. Stormed into a room and reminded Francesca in harsh terms that he would not tolerate disrespect.

Her eyes would widen and moisten with tears, and she would fan herself and claim she was only trying to build up a rapport with Daisy, that her comments weren’t meant like that, that she was devastated at the thought of offending.

And then Daisy, sweet innocent Daisy, had held Francesca by the shoulders and told her it was absolutely fine and that her feelings weren’t hurt at all, and she had glared at Nicolas and told him not to be cruel.

Later, he had found Daisy and asked her how she truly felt.

She had smiled thinly, no light behind her eyes, and said that she was perfectly fine and that she would appreciate it if he didn’t get involved again.

So he hadn’t. Even though it was driving him crazy. He hated seeing Daisy hurt. She hid it well, that was certain, but he knew.

God knows, he knew.

Because the truth was, Francesca’s cruelty only held a mirror up to his own actions towards Daisy at school. How could he presume to launch to her defense when he himself had been her biggest tormentor?

To this day, he hadn’t managed to unravel the reasons behind his actions. For a while, he thought it had just been teenage immaturity. The childish reaction to attraction to someone his sphere would never approve of.

But it went deeper than that. Daisy represented everything that he wasn’t.

He was a right bastard, and more than willing to acknowledge that.

It was no secret. Daisy, on the other hand…

she was so good. So sweet and lovely and kind.

Her first thought was always what she could do to help others.

Whenever he was around her, he felt the sharp edges of his own temperament.

The anger, the cynicism. She was a shining light of all his inadequacies.

And so he had done the only thing he could think to do. He had beaten her down. Proved his dominance over and over and over again. Shown her, and everyone else, that he was better. He didn’t need to be good, or kind, or loving. He was stronger than she was.

But her wide green eyes would fill with tears, and instead of triumph, he would just feel hollow. So he would try again. Insult her again. Make her cry again. On and on it went, until even he could no longer deny it.

She was the strong one. Not him. She withstood his tempest with grace and dignity, never folding, never breaking despite her tears.

But he had broken. He had lost control and kissed her against the tree when he heard some loser human had asked her out, because he couldn’t bear the thought that anyone else would have her light.

He wanted it for himself. And so he took it.

And she had let him. And as she softened, as she melted into him, he had learned why.

She wasn’t always strong. In fact, she felt weak. She needed his kind of strength. And he needed hers.

She had trusted him not to destroy the tenuous thing they were building. And he had.

He hadn’t had a choice.

Just like now. She was hurting, and he didn’t have a choice.

When he had opened that envelope from Francesca, it was only Gracie’s presence that had stopped him from putting his fist through a wall. As it was, he had left the house as soon as he had talked to Daisy and gone to the Pine Shadow Club to talk through his options with Felix.

There were no options.

Because as it turned out, plenty of laws existed to protect human rights in shifter affairs.

It was a gray area, governed over by both species, answerable to both.

Given how much interbreeding there was and the relative power of shifters, of course it was only right that the humans involved with them would have protection.

Protections such as greater legal rights to their children.

It was an old law, enacted right after the height of tensions with the humans, where shifter supremacy was not only a possibility, but a very real probability for a few years.

When the dust had settled, the Shifter Accord formed, and peace nominally declared, the shifters had agreed to certain rights being given to humans to prevent shifter children being taken from human parents.

As it turned out, the law was able to override any legal agreement between Nicolas and Francesca. Unless he wanted a legal battle on his hands, one that he would certainly lose, it was in his best interest to allow Francesca to stay and be a mother to Gracie.

Not even Rick had been able to find a loophole from his fancy hotel in Europe.

So Francesca was living in his house, laying claim to his daughter, and pushing out the only woman he wanted anywhere near his child. And he was powerless to stop her.

He wasn’t used to feeling powerless. And he didn’t like it.

He was spending more and more nights in the woods as a wolf, stalking through the trees, hunting with his brothers. It helped to relieve some of the tension. None of them were happy about Francesca’s reappearance. Felix could see what it was doing to him. Dane had no issues sharing his opinion.

“She’s a gold-digging harpy and you should kick her out on her ass.”

Nicolas couldn’t disagree. Not when Francesca kept ‘accidentally’ bumping into him in the corridors wearing nothing but a lacy negligee. Or when she would lean over his arm to pick up Gracie, pushing her breasts into his side. Not when she kept wearing that damnable pheromone perfume.

And through it all, Daisy floated, a marble statue. Utterly impenetrable. He had tried to talk to her, tried to reignite the spark of what they had started in New York, but she wouldn’t let him. She had utterly iced him out.

He could see the pain clear in her eyes, the struggle. He knew she was hurting. He knew she wanted nothing more than for them to be together. He had given her every opportunity to tell him. He had made it clear, several times, that Francesca’s presence meant nothing. That he wanted her.

It was the same response every time.

“I’m your employee, Nicolas. I’m here to do my job. Nothing more. It’s best for Gracie if nothing else happens.”

It was clear that whatever it was her heart wanted, she would not bow to it. She had drawn her line in the sand, and he was not to cross it.

And after everything that they had been through, after everything that he had done to her, he could hardly be surprised. He had left her, all those years ago, in the cruelest of ways. Of course she would now clam up at the merest hint of having to go through that pain again.

It was his fault. And nothing he could say or do would change her mind.

It wouldn’t stop him from trying.

An upcoming two-week trip to New York meant that he only had one more night in Silvermist, and he wanted to make the most of it.

He had asked Daisy to join him and Francesca for dinner that night.

If he had to go, he wanted to lay down the law as clearly as possible, lest Francesca get any ideas while he was away.

As it was, she had tutted when he mentioned Daisy would be joining them.

Daisy had taken to eating her meals in the kitchen with Thea, and Francesca was firmly of the opinion that the staff shouldn’t eat with them.

Nicolas didn’t give a single shit about Francesca’s opinions.

“This food is simply lovely, Nicolas, I’m so glad you took my advice and got the private chef in. Proper cuisine really makes a difference, don’t you think?”

Daisy’s fork paused over her food, but she ignored the jibe and carried on silently eating.

Nicolas wasn’t so easy.

“I actually prefer home-cooked food,” he said. “I get enough of this fancy shit in New York.”

Francesca giggled, pressing her perfectly manicured hand to her lips. “Oh, you boys! You’ll eat anything so long as it’s hot!”

He didn’t bother responding, only arched one aristocratic eyebrow at her.

“So where did you learn to cook, Daisy?” Francesca tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I suppose you had to learn, being a single mother and all. I just have so much respect for you, raising that little girl all by yourself after her father ran off.”

“Thank you,” Daisy said, not looking up from her food. Nicolas’s jaw clenched.

“Cheating, was he? Men cheat so often, it’s such a shame, but it’s just in their nature, really, isn’t it?

Especially when their girlfriends are too busy looking after a baby to get their hair done, or wash their clothes, or put on makeup.

Oh! Not that I’m saying that’s what happened with you, of course,” Francesca said with fake concern. “Gosh, how rude of me!”

“It’s fine,” Daisy said.

Francesca’s lips pursed slightly, no doubt in annoyance that Daisy hadn’t taken the bait. So instead, she turned back to Nicolas, placing a soft hand on his forearm. He had to fight back to urge to shrug it off instantly.

“Oh, Nicolas, do you have to go?” she simpered, rolling her shoulders back, tilting her chin down ever so slightly. No doubt in an attempt to draw his attention to her cleavage.

“Yes,” he replied, “we’re finalizing the merger with Harper. I have to be there. I’d avoid it if I could.”

“Of course, of course! They’d all be lost without you, Nicolas, there’s no doubt about it! Only you are clever enough to pull something like this off. Of course, you must go! I have to say, though…” Her tone dropped, her eyes growing lidded, her voice breathy, “I will miss you so much.”

Daisy’s scent flared in annoyance, the only sign she was affected by Francesca’s little performance.

Nicolas did shrug her hand off his arm then, and her eyes narrowed for the briefest moment, her eyes flicking to Daisy.

“I’m sure Daisy will miss you too,” she said, her voice growing slightly louder, her long fingers reaching out to clutch the crystal wine glass and swirl the liquid around. “I mean, how could she not?”

Daisy glanced up, her green eyes wide.

“Well?” Francesca purred, leaning towards Nicolas. “Why don’t you tell him how much you’re going to miss him?”

Daisy swallowed, her face pale, and her eyes flickered to his.

“I’m going to miss you,” she said, her voice dull, before she immediately returned to picking at her food. His heart wrenched in his chest.

Francesca laughed in delight, a high, tinkling, irritating sort of laugh. “Oh, Nicolas, I think she has a little crush on you!”

Daisy’s head jerked up, her mouth opening and shutting, her eyes wild with fear as she glanced between them. “No! I don’t, I mean…why would you think that?”

Nicolas growled, ‘Don’t be such a child, Francesca.’

“Oh, Nick, it’s harmless! I think it’s sweet, Daisy. I mean, why wouldn’t you have a crush on him? He’s so sexy. Go on, admit you have a crush on him. It’s good to get it all out in the open.”

Daisy’s cheeks were stained red, her knuckles white where she gripped her fork. She took a few fortifying breaths, and Nicolas fought back another growl.

“I have a crush on you,” she said in that same dull, dead tone. Apparently, she had decided just allowing Francesca her fun was the best way of dealing with her.

Nicolas, however, had had enough.

He slammed his hands down on the table and stood, ignoring Francesca’s squeak of surprise as she was forced backwards.

“That is quite enough,” he snarled, leveling his gaze at Francesca with all the ice he could muster.

“Whatever little game you seem insistent on playing, it ends now. I may not be able to stop you being here, being with Gracie, but do not forget that this is my home. Daisy is my employee. If you continue like this, I will have no choice but to find alternate accommodations for you, no matter what threatening letters your lawyer may send. Are we clear?”

Francesca drew in a breath, the shock clear on her face, but he didn’t let her speak.

“Are. We. Clear?”

She nodded, throat bobbing, fear naked on her face.

He glanced over at Daisy. She too was gaping at him, lips parted, brows drawn together in what appeared to be confusion. She looked so open, so vulnerable, he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and throw her down in his bed and never let her leave.

Instead, he drained his glass in one gulp and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.