Page 10 of Bad Wolf's Nanny
Before Lola could protest again, Ethel turned and swanned out of the room, people parting almost instinctively as she went.
Lola’s throat turned dry, her hands clammy, as she turned back to the bar. This was fine. It was fine. She would finish her drink, then leave. It was fine. Nobody was staring at her. She was just having a drink. It was okay. She didn’t need to panic.
With a trembling hand, she raised the glass to her lips, desperately trying to resist the urge to down the rest of the dark liquid so she could just leave, instead forcing herself to take small, measured sips. She didn’t want people seeing her guzzling alcohol by herself, after all. This was fine. She went to coffee shops by herself all the time. Nothing was wrong with that. So nothing was wrong with this.
“Enjoying the wine?” a husky voice came from behind her, and she nearly shrieked in shock, whirling around with one hand pressed against her chest.
It was Dane. His tattooed arms were folded across his massive chest, and his face was painted with a lazy smirk, and he was standing ever slightly too close for comfort. Lola swallowed and tried to step back, but she hit the bar. Dane noticed the movement, and his smirk widened.
She cleared her throat, trying to school her features into careful neutrality. Unfortunately, she suspected she was now sneering at him, but it was like her own muscles wouldn’t obey her commands. “Yes,” she said, realizing with a start she’d left far too long a pause after his question. “Yes, it’s…lovely.”
“Lovely? Wow. High praise coming from someone like you. I’d have thought you’d be all about fancy French wines or something. Are you sure you’re not just trying to be polite?”
Lola swallowed again, shrinking under the weight of his gaze. He seemed easy-going enough, but she couldn’t trust her senses, couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t get angry with her again. “I do like French wines,” she said quietly, narrowing her eyes. “I don’t think that makes me…fancy. But I also like this wine.”
He snickered, and her cheeks heated in embarrassment. “Wasn’t callingyoufancy, love, but if the shoe fits…”
“Is this about what I said earlier?” she interrupted, her jaw clenching. “Because I didn’t mean it, and I said I was sorry. And don’t call me love.”
His eyes glinted. “Whatever you say…love.”
Lola took a deep breath to try and cool her rising temper. He was just trying to wind her up. That was it. She should rise above it, not let it get to her, just like Ethel had advised.
“Do you want something?” she asked, cringing slightly at how harshly the words came out.
Dane shrugged, stepping forward to lean against the bar, effectively boxing her in. She drew into herself as much as possible, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her uncomfortable, but she knew the scent would be coming off her in waves.
“Aye, I do,” he said, letting his eyes crawl up and down her body. She ignored the shiver that ran down her spine at the blatant appreciation in his eyes. “Wanted to properly introduce myself. The name’s Dane. I’m a pack enforcer.”
“Nice to meet you, Dane the pack enforcer,” she said, pointedly not offering him her hand.
He sniffed. “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”
“You know my name.”
“Yeah, but even though I might beuncivilized, even I know it’s only polite to introduce yourself…personally.”
Her eye twitched at the rumbling purr of his voice. “Lola Devereaux,” she said, monotone.
Dane grinned. “Lola Devereaux,” he said, testing the syllables on his tongue. “Well, Lola Devereaux,aspack enforcer, it’s my job to keep an eye on any potential threats to the pack. Including rogue shifters who decide to take up residence without officially joining the pack.”
As he spoke, he rolled his arms, an effortless gesture, but perfectly designed to show offexactlyhow threatening his pure size was.
As if Lola needed reminding.
“I’m no threat,” she said, “I’m just here to study.”
“So you say,” he said, leaning in close so that his lips nearly brushed the shell of her ear. “Either way. I’ll be watching.”
His scent spiked with pheromones, his meaning painfully clear even to Lola. A rush of heat clenched her lower belly as her traitorous body told her to give in, to lean into his warmth, to turn her head just so—
With a squeal, she jumped backwards away from him, smoothing down her skirt. “I’ve got to—that is, it’s time for me to…bye!”
Without a backwards glance, she raced outside, pushing people out of her way, her cheeks on fire.
The cold evening air hit her like a wall, the gentle drizzle of rain immediately cooling her feverish skin, and she stopped dead in the middle of the street, panting heavily.
She should have slapped him. How dare he, howdarehe talk to her like that, a perfect stranger? It was…it was…
