Page 40 of Demon Daddy's Nanny

My hands shake as I remember his touch, so tender in the darkness. But tenderness means nothing without courage to back it. Without the willingness to face the light of day.

He needs to decide. I won't be some secret he's ashamed of, some weakness he has to control. Either he faces what's between us or...

Or what? Leave? The thought of walking away from Ridwan, from Annalise, makes my chest ache. But staying, watching him retreat further behind those walls while pretending last night never happened - that might break me completely.

"I care about him." The admission feels like glass in my throat. Because I do care about him. More than I should. But I won't let him make me feel small just because he's afraid to feel anything at all.

Annalise reaches for my hand, her grip surprisingly strong. "Then tell him that."

"Maybe I will." I squeeze her fingers, drawing strength from her unwavering support. Because this limbo? This push and pull? It has to stop. I deserve better than half-measures and morning-after regrets.

The garden suddenly feels too confined, too full of whispered secrets and painful revelations. My skin prickles with restless energy, with the need to confront this thing head-on before it festers into something bitter and broken.

I try to shake it off. “Now, let’s focus on you. Enough about your father.”

Annalise rolls her eyes but she doesn’t push any farther. Even though I can tell she wants to, she lets it go. For now.

23

RIDWAN

The days blur together in a haze of paperwork and meetings, each one an attempt to drown myself in duty rather than think about the taste of Eva still lingering on my tongue. I throw myself into reports about border disputes and trade agreements until my eyes burn, but even then, the memory of her soft gasps pierce through my concentration like arrows finding their mark.

My wings twitch with restless energy as I pace my study. The shelves of ancient texts and military histories that usually bring me comfort now feel like prison walls. Every time I catch a glimpse of the balcony through the windows, heat floods my veins. The railing where she'd gripped so desperately. The spot where I'd knelt before her like a supplicant at an altar.

I avoid the dining room, taking my meals in my study. When Annalise asks why I'm not joining them, I mutter excuses about work. The disappointment in her eyes cuts deep, but it's better than facing Eva across the table, watching her lips wrap around a fork, remembering how those same lips parted for my kiss.

Sleep offers no refuge. In the dark hours, my mind betrays me with fragments of memory - the curve of her neck as she threw her head back, the way her fingers tangled in my hair, thebreathy way she'd said my name. I wake tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, wings spread wide and aching, my body hard with need.

The harder I try to convince myself it meant nothing, the more she consumes my thoughts. Eva's presence in my home feels like a living flame, and I'm a moth circling ever closer to destruction. Each time I hear her laugh echo down a hallway or catch her scent - sunshine and sweet herbs - my carefully maintained control threatens to shatter.

This morning, I nearly broke when I rounded a corner and found her reaching for a book on a high shelf, her dress riding up to reveal the curve of her calf. I'd frozen, wings snapping tight against my back, as memories of those legs wrapped around my shoulders flooded my mind. Before she could turn, I'd retreated like a coward, my heart thundering against my ribs.

A knock at my study door jolts me from my brooding. My wings snap open defensively before I recognize Eva's scent. Honey and herbs and something uniquely her that makes my mouth water.

"Come in." My voice sounds rougher than intended.

She enters with a stack of Annalise's completed assignments, and the sight of her steals my breath. The morning light streaming through the windows catches in her hair, turning it to liquid gold. My fingers itch to run through those strands again.

"These need your signature." She approaches my desk with careful steps, like she's trying not to spook a wild animal. Perhaps she's not wrong.

The space between us crackles with tension. My wings spread wider of their own accord, an instinctive display I can't control. When she sets the papers down, her fingers brush mine. The contact sends a thrill racing up my arm.

"Eva." Her name escapes like a growl.

She looks up, those eyes holding mine with an intensity that makes my chest tight. "Yes?"

Logic screams at me to dismiss her. She's human. Fragile. Temporary. Any relationship between us would end in heartbreak - likely hers. I've already failed one woman I loved. I can't do it again.

But my body betrays me. My wings arch forward, curving around her without touching. Shielding her. Claiming her. The primal part of my brain wants to wrap her in them until her scent mingles with mine, until everyone knows she's?—

No. I force my wings back with a sharp snap that makes her jump.

"That will be all." The words taste like ash.

She lingers a moment longer, her pulse jumping visibly at her throat. That spot where I'd pressed my lips, where I'd marked her with my teeth. The memory makes my fangs ache.

When she finally leaves, I grip the edge of my desk until the wood creaks. The rational arguments feel hollow. She's human. She works for me. She deserves better than a broken xaphan who can't even properly love his own daughter.

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