Thane tensed and turned to his colleague. Paul studied Regan with the same heated sneer he’d give a lap dancer. The man was pure sleaze. Thane knew and hated this, but he’d never wanted to punch him as much as he did at that moment. Needing Regan gone from Paul’s presence, he opened his mouth to dismiss her. But she spoke first.
She held out a hand. “Regan. Thane’s nanny.”
Paul couldn’t even hide his surprised delight. He shook Regan’s hand, enfolding hers in both of his. “Enchanté, Regan, nanny of Thane.”
Something took over—obliterating his manners—at the sight of Paul touching Regan. Thane grabbed him by the bend of the elbow and yanked him off her.
“Regan, thank you for the portfolio, but we’re done here,” he clipped out impatiently.
She flinched. “Sure. I’ll see you later.” She marched away, her coat fluttering behind her. Regret filled him.
Thane squeezed his eyes shut. He had a headache coming on.
“Nanny.” Paul’s slithering tone prodded his eyes open again. He grinned lasciviously at Thane. “That’s your nanny?”
“What of it?”
“Does she live with you?”
“Paul,” he warned.
His eyes lit up. “She does!” His gaze shot down the corridor to where Regan had disappeared. “How do you sleep at night knowing prime pussy like that is under your roof? Unless …” He winked at Thane. “Aye, nobody would blame you if you were paying her a wee bit extra to take care of Daddy. Look at your face.” He barked out a repulsive laugh. “Don’t feel guilty, Adair. Women are all sluts. You’d just be giving her what she wants.”
Later, Thane would blame it on lack of sleep.
Whatever the reason, one minute Paul was on his feet, the next on his knees, clutching his bloodied nose.
It had been a horrendous day.
Beyond shattered, Thane walked into the house to find it quiet. Aromatic spices suggested dinner was ready or almost. Regan, to everyone’s surprise, had proven to be a damn decent cook.
However, Thane was used to Eilidh running to greet him, or at least the sounds of his children’s voices filling the large house. Instead, he heard music playing low.
Striding into the living area, he found Regan with her back to him at the stove, stirring a pot while another simmered. She’d scraped her hair into a ponytail that brushed between her shoulder blades. As she shifted, the hem of her cropped sweater revealed the smooth, golden skin of her slender back. Thane swallowed hard as he realized how much he was noticing (and enjoying) the way her jeans highlighted her firm, round arse.
Yanking his eyes away, he looked to the living room and saw it was empty. Eilidh and Lewis were nowhere to be seen. The only noise came from the smart speaker that sat at the end of the kitchen counter. A woman’s low-toned voice sung out of it about two people finding each other in the stars.
“Where are the kids?”
Regan shot him a quick glance over her shoulder before returning to the pot. “Halloween party tonight, remember? I dropped them off at school twenty minutes ago.”
Unease filled him at her emotionless tone. “Did you get them ready okay? No drama?”
“No drama. They looked adorable. Robyn took some great photos.”
He could imagine. Eilidh wanted to go as a unicorn, and Regan had sourced a pastel, rainbow-hued dress with a tutu skirt that came with matching unicorn wings and a unicorn headband with a horn. Eilidh loved it so much, he thought she was going to pass out with excitement when she saw it. And Lewis hadn’t wanted to dress up, but all his friends were going as Marvel characters and they wanted him to go as Ant-Man. Again, Regan had sourced the costume for them. Thane felt shit that he’d missed them going to the party, but he’d see them when he picked them up later. “We’ll need to add the photos to the wall if they’re that good.”
“They’re that good.” There was that emotionless tone again.
Thane dragged a hand down his beard, the long hairs reminding him he needed to trim the damn thing. But that would be after he smoothed things over with Regan.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you.” He stepped into the kitchen. “It wasn’t you I was angry with. It was Paul. He’s a sleazebag, and I didn’t want him talking to you.”
“Bit of an overreaction, no?” she replied, refusing to look at him.
Irritated that he couldn’t see her expression, he sighed. “Will you be an adult and face me when I’m talking to you?”
With angry, jerky movements, he watched Regan turn the stove down and then whip around, her arms crossed over her chest. “I am not one of your children. Do not speak to me like that. Ever.”
After the utter swine of a day, Thane did not want to argue with her. “I apologized. The mature thing to do is accept it.”
Regan’s eyes flashed, but as quickly as her ire appeared, she banked it. Using that annoying monotone again, she replied, “You’re right. My apologies. I’ll just get out of your hair. Your dinner is ready. You just need to plate it up.”
His heart hammered stupidly fast and as she moved to march past him, he reached for her without thinking. Thane wrapped a hand around her elbow, jerking her to a stop. Those gorgeous, warm brown eyes flew to his, and he saw what she was trying to hide.
Hurt.
He’d hurt her feelings.
Thane experienced another sharp pang of regret. “Regan, I’m sorry. I’m being a bastard. It’s not an excuse, but I’ve had a hell of a twenty-four hours. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you by being a condescending prick.”
To his relief, she relaxed under his hold. Her eyes wandered over his face and sharpened. “What happened?”
“Just a long day.” He released her, and her attention dropped to his hand.
“Thane.” She reached for him, gently cradling his right hand in hers. His knuckles were swollen. The look she gave him demanded answers as she repeated, “What happened?”
“I told you, I’m fine,” he said, but secretly he enjoyed Regan fussing over him.
After he’d explained about hitting Paul, miraculously avoiding criminal charges but not avoiding the conversation with his boss about why he’d hit Paul, Regan had pushed him down onto the sofa and told him to wait.
Thankfully for Thane, Allan, his boss, liked him and did not like Paul. Both he and Paul received warnings for their behavior and that if anything like it happened again, they’d both face termination.
Knowing it could have gone so much worse, relief filled Thane.
Regan handed him a beer. “Take with your left hand, please.”
He grinned and sipped his beer, feeling better already. “Thanks.”
She flicked him a dark look as she sat down close beside him. “Right hand.”
Thane’s lips trembled from holding back another grin as he did as she demanded. Out of nowhere, she produced a small bag of frozen peas and crushed them over his knuckles.
“Fuck,” he bit out at the shock of the cold.
“We need to get the swelling down.” She held it over his hand.
“I can do it,” he said, though he wanted her to.
“You can’t drink a beer and hold ice over your hand.”