Page 22 of Demon Daddy's Nanny

"Annalise-"

"Or maybe you were concerned his hands might forget how to hold a fork?" A wicked grin spreads across her face. "Though I noticed you paid special attention to his hands."

My fingers fumble the books. The memory of those hands, strong and calloused, covering mine as I taught him to knead dough flashes through my mind. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please." She rolls her eyes. "You barely touched your own food. Too busy watching the way his jaw moved when he-"

"Enough!" The books hit the desk harder than intended. "This isn't appropriate conversation."

"Since when do we care about appropriate?" She leans forward, those ethereal silver eyes piercing straight through my defenses. "Come on, Eva. I'm not blind. The way you look at him..."

I sink into the chair across from her, shoulders slumping. There's no point denying it - not to her, not when she's watched me pine after her father for months. Not when my eyes betray me every time he enters a room, drawn to him like I’ve been spelled.

"It doesn't matter how I look at him." I trace the old scar on my hand, a reminder of my place. "He's a xaphan. I'm just a human who works for him."

"You're not just anything." Annalise's voice turns sharp. "And Father's not as indifferent as he pretends to be. I've seen the way he watches you when you're not looking."

My heart stutters. "He doesn't-"

"Eight times, Eva." She smirks. "That's how many times he looked at you during breakfast too."

I look away. “Annalise, this isn’t what you think it is.” And then I stand, leaving her in the study room, knowing her tutor will be here soon.

But Annalise's words echo in my mind as I walk through the manor's west wing, carrying a stack of books to return to the library. My footsteps echo off floors, the sun shining through towering windows.

I round the corner and freeze. Ridwan stands at the end of the hall, his golden wings catching the light. My heart slams against my ribs as his gaze meets mine.

For a moment, neither of us moves. Then his eyes drift down to my lips, lingering there before he jerks his head away. The gesture is so quick I might have imagined it, but heat floods my cheeks.

"My lord." The words scratch my throat. I hate using his title, but right now it feels safer than his name.

He shifts his weight, wings tensing. "Eva."

I take a step closer. "About last night-"

"I have meetings." He cuts me off, voice clipped. But he doesn't move away, his hands clenched at his sides.

"Please." I reach for him without thinking. "Can we just-"

He steps back before I can touch him, putting careful distance between us. The rejection stings worse than any physical blow.

"There's nothing to discuss." His words are ice, but his eyes... they burn when they meet mine again. "Last night was a mistake."

"A mistake." My fingers dig into the leather book covers. "Is that what you tell yourself when you look at me like that?"

His jaw tightens. "I don't look at you any particular way."

"You're doing it right now."

Golden eyes darken. The air feels thick, charged with the same intensity from last night. His wings twitch, betraying the rigid control of his stance.

"Eva." My name comes out rough. "Don't."

"Don't what? Don't notice how you can barely stand near me? Don't see how your wings spread every time I get close?" The books tremble in my grip. "Don't feel this thing between us?"

He takes another step back, but his gaze drops to my lips again. This time he doesn't look away fast enough to hide the hunger there.

"There is nothing between us." Each word sounds forced. "There can't be."

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