The Wolf Lord's Mate

Chapter Fifteen

I had been standing outside of the Lord's study for the better part of ten minutes. Every time I gained the courage to knock on the door, another surge of anxiety pulled me back.

"Mira, are you going to come in or not?" I froze as Nathaniel's voice echoed out from behind the door. Wolves had heightened senses—I had forgotten about that. Had he been listening to me the whole time as I'd paced back and forth outside?

Well, at the very least, I didn't have to worry about embarrassing myself—I'd already done that plenty. With a deep breath, I pushed open the door to the Lord's study and stepped inside.

It was well appointed, and oddly cozy for such a formal space. A broad oak desk sat pushed against the far wall, and pair of large armchairs and a matching chaise had been placed in front of the fireplace, now empty from the warmth of the day. Large oak shelves lined the walls, a space left for a door on the other end of the wall from the fireplace.

I could guess that it probably led to Nathaniel's bedroom, the most private part of the manor. From what I understood, only Samuel was allowed in the Lord's chambers. I couldn't help but wonder what Nathaniel's bedroom was like—was he tidy? Did he prefer dark colors or light? How large was his bed? Surely it would have to be massive to fit someone as tall and broad as his Lordship.

"Mira?" My face flushed with heat as I finally noticed Nathaniel looking at me from the other end of the room. He had clearly seen me staring at his bedroom door, and I cleared my throat, forcing myself to step further into the room.

"You said you wanted to speak to me, My Lord?"

"Speak with you, Mira." Nathaniel corrected, motioning towards the chaise.

"I'd rather stand, thank you," I said, smoothing my hands over my skirts, "Is there much of a difference? In speaking to and speaking with?"

"I think so," Nathaniel laced his arms behind his back, the motion emphasizing the broadness of his chest as he walked closer, "Speaking to someone is a bit like speaking at them, and I wish to speak with you. I want to hear your thoughts—your opinions. They matter to me."

My heart fluttered at his words, at what seemed to be earnestness in his gaze. If it was true, I still had to remember that it was my opinion he cared about, and not me.

"Now," Nathaniel said, "I believe you had a complaint to lodge."

"Not a complaint," I corrected, "It's really nothing at all."

"It isn't," Nathaniel quirked a brow, "Something's bothering you. Please, feel free to share anything you wish with me. Consider me a conduit for your desires."

If my face could have burned any hotter it would have. But that was the problem—words like those, thrown around so loosely and innocently, as if he was oblivious to the suggestive nature of his comments.

"Sometimes, My Lord, you..." I started, the words lodging in my throat before I could say them properly.

"Sometimes I what?" Nathaniel prompted.

"Sometimes," I cleared my throat, "You make comments that are overly friendly."

"Do I?" There was no emotion in his voice, no irritation or concern, and he studied me carefully as I squirmed under his gaze.

"Yes," I looked around the room, much more confident when I didn't have to stare into those glinting emerald eyes of his, "And it isn't—you know..."

"No, I don't." Nathaniel's tone was casual, but there was something underneath it. A tightness at the edge of his words.

"It isn't appropriate." I swallowed hard as I glanced over at the window, still refusing to look at him.

"How so?" Nathaniel's voice was a low rumble.

"Your future Lady—your mate, I don't think she would appreciate it. Not to mention, you are my employer, and though I am grateful for your kindness, there must still be boundaries in how we speak to one another."

Nathaniel did not respond, and for a moment I worried that I might have angered him. Until I glanced back to see the small smile starting at the corner of his lips, as if what I had said had merely amused him. I didn't care for that one bit. I was no silly girl for him to mess about with, and did not intend to be treated like one.

"I am serious, your Lordship." My voice was steel, and the smile fell from Nathaniel's lips immediately. "From now on, I would hope that you only speak to me as your employee, and not your friend."

"Can we not be friends, Mira?" Nathaniel regarded me carefully.

Friends. What mad world had I stumbled into where The Lord wanted to be my friend? Where a Wolf wanted to be my friend? And yet, even the notion that he would want only that—only friendship and nothing more—made me ache. It was a good reminder, then, that my request was not only for his sake, but for mine. I had no business feeling anything for this man, this Wolf, and the sooner I put an end to my absurd fantasies, the sooner I could get some peace. And some decent sleep.

"I am your employee," I said, "You brought me here to be your seamstress, not your friend. So that is what I will be."

"Mira," Nathaniel sighed, and the sound of my name coming from his mouth made a pleasant shiver crawl down my spine, "That is not the only reason I brought you here."

"No?"

"I brought you here because you are special."

"I'm not special, My Lord, I am no one."

"That's not true—You are mine."

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