The Wolf Lord's Mate

Chapter Four

"What?" I sputtered, trying to collect myself, "I'm sorry, I mean–I don't–what?

Nathaniel looked far too amused with my disbelief. "If you can work with anyone, then you should have no problem making clothing for me."

"Yes, but why? You could have any seamstress or tailor in the province that you wanted?"

"I could," Nathaniel mused, glancing around at the tiny space before his eyes landed back on me, "But I want you."

My face flushed at his phrasing, the suggestive nature of those words sending my mind to dirty places where I had no intention of letting it linger. His scent didn't help, that intoxicating mix of cinnamon and cloves was overtaking the room, and I knew that it would linger well after he had left. I would spend the night wrapped in it, unable to get the images of him out of mind, and I wondered if he would do the same. I quickly dismissed that thought, as ridiculous as it was, and focused on the proposition before me.

"What exactly would this work entail? Do you need new clothes, tailoring, patterns?" I tried to keep my voice professional, or at least as professional as I could with the inappropriate thoughts racing through my mind.

"All of it. I would have you be my personal seamstress." Nathaniel took a step forward, and I wondered if he could hear the quickening of my heart. Wolves had heightened senses, one of the attributes that made them the feared predators that they were. "You will be paid well for your work, rest assured."

That gave me pause. The weight of the flour in my bag was a physical reminder of just how much I could use the money. It wouldn't just be money, though, would it? It would be a salary, and therefore lift the burden of working project to project and client to client. Just the idea of not having to deal with such worries seemed to lift a weight from my chest, one I was not even aware that I had been carrying. It only spoke to the level of stress I had been dealing with since Mother passed.

"How much?" I asked tentatively, trying not to sound too eager.

"Would fifteen silver pieces a week be appropriate?"

"Fifteen?" I said, not quite sure I heard him right.

"Is twenty more agreeable?" Nathaniel said the number so casually, as if it were not the same number I made in a year. It was an absurd amount of money–only a year's worth of work, and I would have enough to start my own shop if it pleased me. What an idea that was, having the freedom to design whatever I liked for whoever I liked.

It was so incredibly tempting, I could almost forget that it was a Wolf making the offer. It could be worth it, though, couldn't it? I knew humans who worked for far less, for Wolves who did not seem to possess the same kindness as the Wolf Lord. Of course, that kindness could be a facade, and he could be completely different once I was in his employment. It was a dangerous bargain, but I was in no place to say no. Danger was nothing new, after all, I had known danger all of my life. Although, I had never known danger to be so handsome, so delectably masculine as the danger that currently stood before me.

"Twenty would be very agreeable," I tried to keep my voice level, attempting to quell my astonishment that the number was even coming from my lips. If Nathaniel could tell, he did not show it, and simply nodded in agreement, satisfaction shining in his eyes.

"Excellent. You cannot continue to stay here, however," Nathaniel narrowed his eyes as he glanced around the sparse space, "I can't have my seamstress working in such an–" He hesitated, tensing as a loud banging sounded from the pub above us, "-inadequate space."

"I've worked out of here for years, I think I can manage." I said, a bit defensively. It was certainly no Lord's manor, but I worked hard to keep it tidy and clean, and had never been late on a payment despite my situation.

"I can equip you with a better space; more room, more light." Nathaniel gave me a confident smile, the same kind I was learning meant he had come to a decision that would be very difficult to dissuade him against. "I employed a tailor at my home a few summers back, and I believe he found the workspace quite agreeable."

"You want me to work at your manor?" It did make sense in a way, if he really was serious about me working for him. After all, the Lord couldn't exactly be expected to meander through the town alleys to be fitted for fine clothes.

"You would have room and board as well," Nathaniel straightened, his voice lowering, but the tone was more gentle than aggressive, as if he were trying to soothe me with his words, "As I said, Mira, this part of town is not safe for humans."

"No place is fully safe for humans," I could not keep my tongue back that time, not with the strange mix of feelings stirring inside me at his presence, "Most Wolves do not see us as equals, you cannot deny that to be true."

"I do not deny it," Nathaniel's jaw was tight, as if he were holding back an argument, "Your kind is weaker than ours, and our need to dominate can sometimes cloud our better judgment."

"By 'cloud our better judgment' you mean lead to acts of senseless violence?" I crossed my arms over my chest. I shouldn't have been speaking to him like that, so freely and without any regard to his station, but my stubbornness had overtaken my common sense.

"Yes. We are not humans, Mira, you must always remember that," Nathaniel took a step forward, towering over me and staring down with the intensity of a predator observing his prey, "All the more reason for you to move somewhere where your safety can be guaranteed."

"Guaranteed by whom, exactly?"

"By me."

"Why do you care?" I took a step back as far as I could as he came closer, my legs bumping against the edge of the bed, "Will you answer me that, My Lord?"

A ghost of a smile curled across Nathaniel's lips, and he glanced at the bed behind me before his eyes flicked back to my face. The images from before pushed back into my mind, of all the things he could do to me while I was pressed against the mattress, and my cheeks flushed involuntarily.

Nathaniel's smile widened, but he did not offer me an answer. He only turned, opening the door and ducking under the low frame. "I will expect you at my home tomorrow morning. Take whatever belongings you will need for the next few days, and I will have someone come and collect the rest." Nathaniel's gaze swept across the room one last time, resolve settling over his features, "I cannot imagine there will be much to pack."

With that, the door swung shut, and Lord Nathaniel was gone.

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