Chapter 12

Sarah POV

Alone in the dressing room with what truly was a fabulous dress, much better than anything I had ever dreamed of owning, I took several deep breaths. My life had changed so greatly and so quickly, I was getting carried away. Mr. Cavendish was a kind and indulgent employer, and I was beginning to think he would let me stay in Chloe’s life long-term, but he was still an alpha werewolf with all the duties that came with such status.

My goddess, I’d signed a contract saying I had no designs on him! I needed to keep my head out of the clouds and my feet firmly on the ground. I could do nothing that would jeopardize Chloe’s place in Mr. Cavendish’s household.

That settled, I took over the linen pants and cotton top I’d put on for the day and slipped on the dress. The saleslady had gotten my size without asking me about it, and it fit perfectly. The quality of the garment was incredible, with perfect seams that went in at my waist and then back out for my hips and breasts.

Looking in the mirror left me stunned. My eyes had never looked bluer, and the dress’s color was perfect against my complexion, which could look washed out if I weren’t careful with my colors. I looked like a China doll worth a million bucks.

“Come out and show us, Mommy!” Chloe called from the other side of the door.

With a deep, slow breath, I opened the door and stepped out into the viewing area. Mr. Cavendish was sitting on a plush green settee with a cup of tea, and the girls were hopping up and down.

“I knew it would look great!” Chloe boasted. Grace giggled.

Mr. Cavendish put his cup down on a side table, stood, and bowed slightly. “My daughter is correct. You look great.”

I laughed, then whooped slightly when little hands pushed against me and I stumbled forward into his arms. A strong, warm hand went to my waist, steadying me, and my heart started pounding so hard, I’m sure every wolf in the place could hear it, including the saleslady, who came into the viewing area just as I was stepping away from my boss.

Head out of the clouds, I reminded myself. Feet on the ground.

Chloe looked at me innocently as I shot her a little glare.

“Yes, that’s perfect for you,” the saleslady said. “Just right for all manner of daytime functions and a business casual evening.”

“Agreed,” Mr. Cavendish said with a nod. “We’ll need a few other daytime outfits.”

She nodded back. “Jewel tones, with that skin.” She smiled at me. “Ready to have more fun?” She laughed, but it was a professional camaraderie she was offering, nothing too personal. I appreciated the deference. She turned and walked out to fetch more things.

“Mr. Cavendish,” I began in protest.

“You’re going to be seen in public with me and my children at all manner of functions. Members of my household have an image to maintain.”

That actually did make sense. “Yes, Mr. Cavendish.”

“Please, you saved my daughter’s life. I can’t believe she’s been returned to me, and it’s because of you. Call me Zane.”

“Oh. I’ll work on it,” I said. He laughed.

Then we really were reenacting the wardrobe montage from Chloe’s movie. Pants, skirts, tops, a formal gown, shoes, and even two purses went on Zane’s charge card. The saleslady, who I realized was so friendly toward a human because she worked on commission, even took me into the back for new undergarments.

When my skin was actually starting to feel rubbed raw from so many changes, Zane instructed my new wardrobe to be delivered to his villa, collected the (now sleepy) children, and had us all driven home.

We were all quiet for a while, and then Chloe shook off her sleepiness long enough to announce that she didn’t like eating dinner with Ella.

“Not that she actually eats anything,” she said with a huff. “Why order something you don’t want to eat?”

“She’s a professional model, sweetie,” I said, unwillingly defending her. “I’m sure if she gains an ounce everyone runs around in horror.”

Grace giggled very quietly.

Zane asked, “Ella is your aunt and is trying very hard to get to know you. Why don’t you like her?”

Chloe sat silently for a moment, then announced in defiance, “I don’t want her for a mommy!”

Zane looked back at her in surprise. “That won’t happen, Chloe.”

“Why?” I asked without thinking. I had assumed she was the obvious choice. She obviously wanted to be his wife.

Then I realized how persona a question that was. “Oh, dear. I shouldn’t overstep—” I began, then broke off. Chloe and Grace were staring at me.

“Don’t you like her?” Chloe asked Zane as though I had not spoken.

“Of course I like her. Ella is my sister-in-law, my late wife’s twin sister, and she takes her role as your aunt seriously. I’m more than grateful to her for the interest she’s taken in Grace over the years, but that is as far as that goes.”

I doubt Ella would agree with that, I thought, though I made sure my face remained neutral. Chloe seemed satisfied, though, and leaned against Grace, growing sleepy again.

If they were just in-laws, why had Ella made such a big deal of their “mutual attraction and affection”? Ella couldn’t possibly feel I, a human nanny, was some sort of threat she needed to scare off. What was she thinking?

It was the sort of werewolf puzzle I knew I was ill-equipped to solve, but it still nagged at me as I put the girls to bed, then promptly allowed them both to sleep with me again. As we cuddled and I listened to the girls breathe in deep, sweet slumber, Ella’s motives and designs swirled mysteriously in my head.

But the day had been too full and busy for me to remain awake long, and I woke in the morning refreshed and happy to hug my daughter and the little girl who was starting to feel like a second daughter.

When I was on my second cup of coffee and the girls were putting their dishes in the sink, Ella seemed to explode into the villa, followed by several betas holding packages. Zane came out of his study for a peck on the cheek and the sight of her laughing in delight.

“Darling! You practically bought out the whole store! Whatever did I do to deserve it?”

I kept my mouth shut and stayed as much as possible in the background. But Zane didn’t even seem to think about being abashed or feeling awkward.

“The clothes are for Sarah,” he said.