question again? Right, the girls and nannies. “Testing nannies is important. Atleigh, Lachlyn, and Chloe are quite…unusual.”
He caught the way her eyes lit with curiosity. “I’m not permitted to share more than that. But even if they weren’t special, they’re still three girls on the cusp of teenage-hood and coming into their magic, and they need the right person minding them.”
“Delilah sent you duds before?” Her doubt about that came through loud and clear.
“No. I didn’t use Brimstone until now. I thought we could handle this through the witching community. I was wrong.”
Surprise-widened eyes told him he’d caught her off guard with the admission.
Greyson grinned. “Yes, I can be wrong.”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and tension filled the spaces inside him like a curtain of electricity. Awareness, impossible to not call it what it was. Rowan snatched her gaze away, and his head cleared enough for the realization to seep in that he hadn’t smiled, truly smiled, since his wife’s death. The thought struck hard, and he rubbed at a spot on his chest as his mind transitioned from turned on, to shock, to aggravated at himself in the space of seconds, left buzzing with emotion either way.
Pulling his own gaze away, he cleared his throat. He shouldn’t be letting his nanny affect him this way. “I should’ve guessed Delilah would send me someone more than capable.”
“I don’t know about that,” she muttered under her breath. “So all of it was a test. The burned dinner?”
Greyson grimaced. “Yes.”
“The girls running away?”
He nodded.
“What about their fight this morning?”
Another grimace. “That was real.”
“And your attitude?”
He frowned. “What attitude?”
She peered at him for a long moment, and Greyson got the uneasy impression she found him wanting somehow.
“Never mind,” she murmured. Was she placating him?
“Are the schedule and the expectations for me the same?” she asked.
“Yes.” What was wrong with his schedule?
Her mouth pursed, but she nodded. “Fine.”
“So you’ll stay?” Oddly, Greyson found himself holding his breath for her response. An hour in her company, surrounded by her wildflower and honey scent, and part of him wanted her to stay. So unlike him, he brushed that wayward feeling aside with irritation and waited for her response.
She sighed. “I don’t have a choice.”
The words, or maybe the way she said them, triggered instinct honed over years of being a hunter. “What does that mean?”
A strong emotion flashed in her eyes. If he had to guess, he would’ve said panic, but the expression was gone so quickly he couldn’t be sure.
Then she offered a sweet smile. “It means you clearly need help. So, yes, I’ll stay.”
Greyson levered to his feet. He needed help, did he? “I’ll be in my room if you need me. Good night, Rowan.” Her name felt strange on his lips. Right and wrong at the same time.
“Mr. Masters—” She stopped him at the door, and he swung to face her, eyebrows raised in question.
She didn’t bother to get up. “Don’t test me like that again.”
Or what?
“Remember…observations can go two ways.”
Did she just imply she was observing him? Before he could snap out a question, she stood and turned off the TV. “Good night.”
Greyson headed back upstairs, coming to terms with a rare experience. He’d been effectively dismissed by a woman who happened to be his girls’ nanny. Most women rushed to please him. Rowan practically sprinted in the opposite direction.
Bigger question…why did her contrary reaction turn him on?
Chapter Five
Monday morning dawned early, still dark outside. After almost a week with the Masterses, Rowan had learned the hard way how difficult getting three twelve-year-old girls out of bed could be. Sloths had more speed than those three in the morning. Rowan had been damn tempted to give each a little zap but restrained herself.
How had Greyson been doing this on his own the last few years? After that first one, none of the nannies had lasted long enough to be much help. Given his occupation he had to be gone a lot. Yet while the girls might need a bit more attention, they were still good kids. She had to give the man props for that.
At least the pricklies she’d felt in the woods had been Greyson watching, and not…something else. Someone else.
“Get going, lazy bones,” she said out loud. Then flipped off the covers.
Without the help of magic for once, Rowan managed to feed the girls and get them out the door with Greyson on time. She peered out the window to the backyard where he was about to teleport them