Page 9 of Bully Wolf’s Nanny (Silvermist Wolves #1)

Nicolas hadn’t said a word to her on the car journey back, just stared out at the road with a tight jaw and an even tighter grip on the steering wheel.

As soon as they reached the house, Daisy immediately busied herself sorting Thea and Gracie out for bed, instructing one to brush her teeth while changing the other into her sleeping onesie.

She told herself it was just because she wanted to do her job well, even when her hands shook slightly with nerves at Nicolas’s dark and brooding aura.

The truth was, she had absolutely no idea where she stood with him.

Before the club, he had been almost gentle, reassuring her that she had nothing to fear within.

And he was right; the Pine Shadow Club had been surprisingly lovely.

She had even gotten the numbers of a few of the pack females to meet up for coffee in a few days’ time.

And Felix. He was not what she had expected.

Sure, she had always known him to be fair and friendly, but the very idea of him being the alpha had made him loom large and frightening in her mind.

How wrong she was. There was definitely steel beneath the unassuming exterior, but he at least seemed to know how to wield it for the good of all.

As for Dane, despite the fact that they had been in the same grade, she wasn’t sure she’d ever properly talked to him before.

He was far too busy flirting with every willing female in sight to pay her any attention.

He had never joined in when Nicolas had…

when Nicolas had been cruel to her. But still, he greeted her like an old friend.

And something about that interaction had flipped Nicolas’s mood on its head, and he had turned right back to the sullen, scary alpha she knew from her younger years. Perhaps he and Dane had had a falling out.

Or perhaps, a treacherous voice whispered inside her head as she closed the door to Thea’s room with a soft click, perhaps he’s angry with you. Perhaps you embarrassed him.

She swallowed, smoothing down the skirt of her dress. She had been so careful to say the right things, to be demure, to not bring attention to herself. But maybe she had said something, made some silly comment, looked at someone the wrong way…

“Daisy.”

His voice, hard and low, froze her blood to ice in her veins.

This was it. Of course it was. He had seen her interact with the pack and now he had changed his mind. It was bound to happen sooner or later. He was going to fire her. She was such an idiot. Accepting this stupid position, coming to live in his house, believing his lies yet again…

She turned slowly to see him leaning against the wall by the staircase, his arms folded over his chest, the top few buttons undone.

Against her will, her eyes dropped for the merest fraction of a second to the pale skin of his throat, before darting back up to his face.

“Yes?” she squeaked, folding her hands in front of her, trying her best not to chew her lip.

He considered her for a moment before jerking his chin towards the staircase. “Follow me. I’ve got something to show you.”

Her feet moved of their own accord, and she hurried after him down the stairs, berating herself for her nerves. He was just a man.

But he isn’t just a man. He’s an alpha. A shifter. Bigger, stronger, faster than you.

“I had something delivered while we were out,” Nicolas said, his voice cool. “It’s just through here.”

He stopped by a doorway, half-turning back to her, extending one long arm into the room beyond. Daisy tried to read his expression, but as normal, came up short. So with a nervous gulp, she sidled past him and into the room beyond.

Except it wasn’t a room. It was some sort of greenhouse.

Huge panes of glass overlooked the woodland beyond, the soft amber lights in the garden glowing through and bathing the space with hazy warmth.

Plants of every color, every variety, exploded in a riot of vibrancy, their flowers thickening the air with sweet smells.

And in the center, nestled amongst the blooming life, was a grand piano.

“Oh,” Daisy whispered softly, taking a few cautious steps forward over the cobbles, “is this…did you…”

“It occurred to me earlier that it’s rather bizarre that I don’t actually have a piano from the company that I manage,” Nicolas said, walking with confidence towards the polished spruce piano, “and since you are now living here, it only made sense to have one brought in.”

She blinked at him, her lips parted in surprise at his nonchalance, as if it were a completely normal thing to have a grand piano delivered to one’s house on a whim.

He looked at her, his sharp features pale and imposing even in the warm glow of the lights, and raised an expectant eyebrow.

“Would you prefer I have it moved to somewhere else in the house?”

“No!” Daisy replied, perhaps a touch too fast. “No, that’s not it at all! Nicolas, this is…this is far too much!”

“Try it out,” he said, utterly ignoring her as he pulled out the stool. “You’ll have to let me know if it needs any tuning. I don't have the ear for that sort of thing.”

“Nicolas, I don’t—"

“Daisy,” he said, his voice at last betraying some hint of emotion, some small ounce of strain, “please. Just play.”

She paused, and then nodded, walking slowly past him to sit at the stool, nervously arranging her skirt as she sat.

But as soon as her fingers touched the ivory keys, all her anxiety was forgotten.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had played. Perhaps it had been a snatched moment in the local church a few months ago, or a few quick notes on a clunky old upright in a bar. It didn’t matter. The music flowed through her as if it had never left.

Her fingers danced over the keys, the song taking shape before her even without any sheet music.

It was an old lullaby she’d learned when she was a girl.

She remembered how much she had loved the sweet yet solemn melody.

She still loved it. Her breath hitched as the tempo increased, as the chords resonated deep within her.

Tears pricked behind her eyes, so she screwed them closed, chasing the rapture of musical release.

Oh, how she had missed this. It was as if some part of her soul had been missing, and finally, finally had returned to her.

She couldn’t have wished for a more perfect gift.

And that she hadn’t even needed to ask…Nicolas had just done it.

He had seen her desire at the shop and acted on it just… just because .

Only when she played the final few notes did she dare open her eyes again.

Instantly, her gaze locked with Nicolas’s.

He was leaning against the piano, his eyes wide, his lips slightly parted.

His hair had relaxed from its neat styling, one lock falling over his brow.

She had never seen him look so vulnerable and yet at the same time… so hungry .

Everything went still. The soft sway of the plants, the glowing flicker of the lights, the last distant echo of her final notes. It all went away. Until it was just them. Him and her.

It was too much.

She stood abruptly, the stool clattering against the stone.

“I have to…I need to…I’m going to bed,” she said, her chest heaving. “Thank you. For the piano. It’s…it’s…”

“Daisy,” he said, taking one step forward, the immensity of him threatening to overwhelm her.

“Goodnight.” She turned from him and fled, never once looking back, her heart racing in her chest.

***

Only later, much later, when she had removed her makeup and changed into her comfiest pajamas, did she let herself think about the look on his face.

She had never seen anything like it.

Well no, that wasn’t quite true. She had seen him look like that once before. Only once.

She swallowed, the thick duvet suddenly feeling overwhelmingly stifling. She kicked it off, sucking in the cool air, fingers twisting in the sheets beneath her.

His eyes had been like some sort of tempest. A wild storm she would get lost in. And his expression, so open, so raw in its blatant desire.

But a desire for what?

She didn’t dare think about it.

Her skin prickled into goosebumps, her nipples hardening. She told herself it was because of the cold. The throb growing between her thighs told a different story.

She swallowed again, her hands drifting to her stomach, to a small stretch of skin between her pajama shirt and pants. Her fingers lightly caressed the bare skin, inching ever so slightly higher, lifting her shirt slowly up her torso.

This was wrong. She shouldn’t be doing this. She needed to stop.

Her fingers brushed the underside of one breast, and she stifled a gasp, thighs clenching together.

What if the hunger on his face, what if that molten intensity…was for her?

Her hand moved higher, cupping her breast, her thumb rubbing over her stiff nipple. She bit back a groan at the contact.

What would have happened if she had stayed? If she had waited to see what he would say to her?

Daisy.

Her name on his lips was like some dark promise of sin.

Her other hand traipsed lower, grazing over her thigh, moving towards her aching center.

Would he have taken another step towards her? And then another, and then another until he was close enough that he could reach out and…and…

Her fingers rubbed over her damp folds. Even through the cotton of her pajama pants, the sensation sent sparks up her spine. Her fingers tightened against her nipple, tweaking it just to the point of pain, her other hand moving again against herself.

Would he have touched her like this? Would he have said her name again, low and gravelly, heavy with need? She imagined it. She imagined his eyes as he pulled her towards him, the molten heat of him enough to melt her down to her core.

Her breaths came faster now as she chased her impending pleasure.

Would he have spun her around, his hands coming up to caress her breasts? Would he have flipped her skirts up, pushed her against the piano? Would it have been like the time when they had first…

The thought was like icy water poured over her brain.

Her eyes flew open, and she sat up, a raging blush spreading from her cheeks down to her chest as her hands flew away from her body as if she had been burned.

What the hell was she doing? Fantasizing about her employer in his own house? Fantasizing about him after everything that had happened between them?

She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t go there. Not again. Not like this.

She sprang up from the bed, straightening her pajamas, nervously pacing. All the tension was still there, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t.

Water. Water would help.

She dashed from her bedroom and padded down the stairs, her face still firmly on fire.

So engrossed was she in telling herself off, she didn’t notice that the kitchen light was on until it was too late.

She strode into the kitchen and nearly screamed as two arms shot out to stop her from colliding straight into a chest.

And not just any chest.

Nicolas’s chest. Nicolas’s bare chest.

Her mind went entirely blank.

“Daisy?” Nicolas said, his voice thick with worry. “Daisy, are you alright? What is it?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Her eyes flew up to his face, her lips parting.

As soon as their eyes made contact, something shifted in the air between them. Nicolas’s face turned from concern into something else. Something heated. His eyes darkened, his jaw tightened, and to her abject humiliation, he scented the air.

She sucked in a breath, even as he let out a harsh one.

It was as if electricity danced between them. Daisy was instantly aware of every inch of her body, from her flushed cheeks to her hard nipples to the aching wetness between her legs.

And if Nicolas’s flaring nostrils were anything to go by, he was acutely aware of it, too.

His fingers flexed around her arms, his muscles rippling.

“I’m sorry, I—" she managed to stutter, “I came down to get some…some water!”

He didn’t reply. It was as if he hadn’t heard her at all.

“Nicolas,” she whispered, her body frozen between running away and launching herself at him. He seemed similarly torn, although something in his gaze told her exactly what would happen if he gave in.

No. No, this couldn’t happen. It couldn’t.

She took a sudden step backwards, pulling out of his grasp. Slowly, his arms fell back to his sides, but his face didn’t so much as twitch. If anything, he looked more predatory, more ready to give chase if she chose to flee from him.

So she backed away slowly, her eyes trained on him, her footsteps trembling.

Deep within her, her wolf howled in disappointment. It was almost enough to unbalance her entirely. How long had it been since she’d felt her wolf within her?

She did flee then. She turned tail and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Only when she was safely in her room, chest heaving as she braced against the heavy wooden door, did she let herself breathe.

He didn’t follow her.