Be Careful With My Heart, Alpha Reginald

Nimue POV

“You’re trying to kill me.”

I burst into laughter and looked over my shoulder at Reginald, who was struggling behind me with a basket full of grapes hanging from his arm.

“You’ve been saying that for six months,” I teased.

“Because work in the vineyard is pure torture,” he groaned dramatically. “I swear these grapes are heavier than they appear to be. I don’t think they are the same as the grapes in other vineyards.”

“They’re normal grapes, Alpha.”

“Former Alpha,” he corrected quickly. “Apparently I’m just poor now.”

I laughed harder. My voice sailed softly through the quiet vineyard as the evening wind brushed through the grape leaves around us. The workers had already gone home hours ago, leaving only the two of us under the fading orange sky.

Reginald finally reached me and dropped the basket onto the wooden cart with a loud grunt.

“That’s the last one,” I said.

“Thank the Moon Goddess.” He wiped sweat from his forehead and leaned against the cart, breathing heavily.

I crossed my arms. “You’re such a wreck. For an Alpha, sorry, former Alpha, you are so weak.”

His mouth dropped open. “Weak? Nimue, I used to have servants do the dirty work for me.”

“And now you have muscles to do the dirty work yourself, bag of lazy bones.”

He narrowed his eyes at me before suddenly grabbing my waist. I squealed as he pulled me against him.

“Take it back,” he warned.

“Never.”

“Take. It. Back.”

“You’re so weak, Reginald Hathaway.”

He gasped as if I had stabbed him. Then he buried his face against my neck dramatically. “This is not fair.”

I could not stop smiling. Six months ago, I barely spoke to this man. Now, I could not imagine my days without him.

When Reginald first arrived in our village after Alpha Gerald cast him out, everyone thought he would run back to his father within a week. Honestly, I thought so too. The first day at the winery, he complained about dirt on his boots for almost two hours. By the third day, he got blisters carrying grape baskets. By the fifth day, he almost fainted because he skipped breakfast and tried showing off. I still remembered laughing at him while he sat in the mud, looking offended at life itself.

But somehow, he stayed. And somewhere between long workdays and stolen smiles in the vineyard, I fell in love with him without noticing.

Reginald suddenly kissed my cheek. “What are you thinking about again,” he murmured.

“Nothing… nothing at all,” I said.

“You’re beautiful.”

I froze slightly. He always did that, slipping sweet words into conversations so naturally that my heart never had time to prepare.

Reginald smiled softly when he saw my face heating up. “There she is,” he whispered. “My shy little princess.”

“I’m not shy.”

“You couldn’t even look at me the first month we met.”

“That’s because you were annoying.”

“Annoyingly handsome, you wouldn’t stop staring.”

“And arrogant,” I added.

“I’m still handsome.”

I rolled my eyes and started walking toward my cottage before he could see me smiling again. The small house sat near the edge of the vineyard beside rows of grape trees. It was old and tiny, but it was home.

The moment we entered, Reginald threw himself onto one of the wooden chairs dramatically. “I deserve payment for my suffering.”

“You already ate half the grapes while working.”

“That’s not payment.”

I shook my head and lit the candles around the room while he watched me quietly. The cottage became warmer instantly. I turned toward the kitchen table and nearly smacked Reginald’s hand. “You’re stealing bread now?”

“I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.”

“That’s because you work me like a slave.”

I snorted softly while arranging plates on the table. Then I noticed he had gone quiet. When I looked up, Reginald was staring at me.

“What?” I asked softly.

He leaned back in the chair slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “One day,” he said quietly, “you’re going to own a winery bigger than every vineyard in this pack.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I’m serious.”

I laughed nervously and shook my head. “Reginald…”

“No, listen to me.” He stood up and walked closer. “You know more about this business than people twice your age. The workers respect you. Even the managers listen to you.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means everything.”

I looked away quickly. Nobody had talked about my dreams seriously before, not after my parents died, and especially not as an omega. Owning a winery was impossible for someone like me. I barely went to school. Most days, I still worried about money.

“You really think I can do it?” I asked quietly.

He stepped closer until his hands rested gently on my waist. “I know you can.”

Oh Moon Goddess. I loved this man too much.

Reginald brushed his fingers softly across my cheek. “You doubt yourself too much.”

“That’s because life has not given me reasons to do otherwise.”

“Well, life is stupid.”

I laughed softly. Then his eyes dropped to my lips. The room suddenly felt warmer, quieter. The way he looked at me made my breathing uneven.

When Reginald kissed me, it started softly. His lips brushed mine like he was tasting something precious, something fragile. I had been longing for him to do this, so I melted into him immediately, my small hands rising to clutch his shirt. I could feel the solid mass of his chest beneath my fingertips.

He tilted my head back gently, deepening the kiss slowly and deliberately. My knees buckled slightly, and his arm wrapped around my waist instantly, holding me steady against his massive frame.

"Easy, my darling," he murmured against my mouth.

I trembled. He was so big, so warm. Everywhere I touched him, there was hard muscle and heat.

"Reginald..." I breathed.

His hand slid up my back, his fingers tracing my spine through the thin fabric of my dress. I shivered. His touch was reverent, almost worshipful.

"I'm nervous," I admitted.

He pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes were dark and tender, but there was a hunger underneath that made my stomach flip.

"We can stop anytime," he said. "Say the word, and I'll hold you all night without another touch."

I shook my head. "I don't want you to stop. I want this. I want you." My voice wavered, but the conviction was real.

He kissed me again, deeper this time, and I felt his hand slide down to the hem of my dress. Slowly, he gathered the fabric, lifting it over my hips. The cool air bit my thighs, and I gasped against his lips.

"You are so beautiful," he breathed, looking down at me.

"Your turn," I whispered, reaching for his belt.

He caught my wrist gently. "Later. Tonight is about you."

He lifted me effortlessly, and I gasped, wrapping my legs around his waist. My dress bunched around my hips, and I could feel the rough denim of his jeans against my bare thighs. He carried me to the bed and laid me down. Then he stood over me, looking down with desire in his eyes.

"You're so beautiful, Nimue."

Tears pricked at my eyes. "Don't make me cry."

He smiled softly, then lowered himself over me, bracing his weight on his elbows so he wouldn't crush me. I felt so small beneath him, so protected. He kissed my neck, my collarbone, the hollow of my throat. His lips trailed lower, and his fingers found the buttons of my dress. One by one, he undid them, pressing kisses to the newly exposed skin.

"I've dreamed of this," he said roughly.

“Reginald…” I breathed when he broke the kiss to trail his lips along my jaw.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” His voice was low, rough with want, but he moved with careful restraint, like he was holding back a storm. He lowered his head and took my nipple into his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue made me cry out, my fingers tangling in his hair.

“I love you,” I said as tears escaped my eyes.

“I love you too, Nimue. More than you know.” He pulled back, trying to smile, but it failed. “I’m sorry. I… I don’t deserve you.”

I touched his cheek, my heart aching. “Why would you say that?”

He didn’t answer. He just kissed me again, softer this time.