Page 29 of Demon Daddy’s Nanny (Demon Daddies #3)

29

RIDWAN

I wake slowly, savoring the weight of Eva in my arms, her bare skin pressed against mine beneath the sheets. Golden morning light filters through my wings, still curved protectively around us both. The memories of last night flood back - her gasps, her trembling fingers, the way she came apart beneath me. My chest tightens with an unfamiliar warmth.

I pull her closer, breathing in the scent of her hair, letting my hands wander over the soft curves of her body. She stirs, making a small sound that shoots straight through me. I trail kisses along her jaw, down her neck, tasting the salt on her skin.

"Good morning," I murmur against her throat, my voice still rough with sleep. My wings shift, creating a private sanctuary of gold-tinted shadows. She fits perfectly against me, like she was made to be here.

Her fingers trace patterns on my chest, but when I move to roll her beneath me, she presses her palm flat against my sternum.

"Ridwan, wait?—"

I freeze, every muscle tensing. The warmth in my chest turns to ice. My wings pull back slightly, letting in harsh daylight. Eva's face is flushed, her lips swollen from last night's kisses, but there's hesitation in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" The words come out sharper than intended. I start to pull away, but her hand grips my arm.

"Nothing's wrong, I just—" She bites her lip, and it takes everything in me not to kiss her again. "We should talk first."

Talk. The word sits heavy between us. I've never been good at talking - at anything involving emotions, really. But for her, I'll try. I force myself to stay still, to not chase the heat of her skin against mine.

My wings settle back around us, gentler this time. A shield, not a cage. "Alright. Let's talk."

Eva's fingers continue their idle patterns on my chest, but her touch carries a weight now. "We need to tell Annalise."

My jaw clenches. Of course. The one complication I can't simply command away or solve with military precision. The memory of her silver eyes, so like her mother's, flash in my mind. Her sharp tongue and sharper wit, wielded like weapons to keep everyone at arm's length. Just like I taught her, without meaning to.

"She's grown fond of you." The words scrape out of my throat. Eva has done what I couldn't - reached past those thorny defenses Annalise built. Found the wounded, lonely child beneath.

Eva shifts, propping herself up on an elbow. The sheet slides down, revealing the curve of her shoulder. "That's why we need to tell her. She trusts me now. If she finds out another way?—"

"She'll see it as betrayal." I know my daughter too well. The thought of her pain twists something in my chest. "I'll speak with her."

"We should tell her together."

"No." The word comes out harder than intended. I catch Eva's chin with my fingers, gentling my touch when she tenses. "Let me do this. If she reacts badly..." My wings tighten around us, an instinctive response to threat. To the need to protect.

Eva's hand comes up to cup my cheek, her thumb brushing over the scar there. "You can't shield me from everything, Ridwan."

But I want to. The urge burns in my blood, as natural as breathing. I've already failed one woman I loved. Failed my daughter. The thought of Eva facing Annalise's rage, her cutting words?—

"I'll speak with her first," I say again, softer this time. "Test the waters. She's..." I search for the right words. "Fragile. Under all that anger."

Eva's eyes hold understanding, and something deeper that makes my chest ache. "Like her father?"

I look away, unable to hold her gaze. She sees too much, this woman who's worked her way past my own defenses.

I find Annalise in the library, her platinum hair falling like a curtain over the book she's reading. My footsteps echo against the floor, but she doesn't look up. Just like her mother—using silence as a weapon.

"Annalise." My voice fills the space between us. "We need to talk."

She turns a page, her fingers tracing the words with deliberate slowness. The late afternoon sun streams through the high windows, catching on her wings - so like mine in color, yet delicate where mine are battle-scarred.

I pull out the chair across from her. The sound of wood scraping stone makes her flinch, though she tries to hide it. Always trying to hide her reactions from me. When did that start?

"It's about Eva." The words taste strange on my tongue. Too personal. Too raw. I'm used to giving orders, not... this.

Her silver eyes finally lift to mine, unreadable as frozen lakes. She sets her book down with precise movements, folding her hands on top of it. Waiting. Making me do all the work, just as I've made her do all these years.

"She's become..." I clench my fist under the table, forcing the words out. "Important to me. In a way I didn't expect." My wings shift restlessly behind me. "In a way I haven't felt since your mother."

Something flickers in Annalise's expression - too fast to catch. Her fingers tighten on the book until her knuckles turn white, but she doesn't speak. The silence stretches between us like a living thing.

"I'm falling in love with her." The confession rips from my throat, rough and honest. "I know this affects you. Changes things. But I—" I swallow hard. "I can't ignore what I feel. Not anymore."

I wait for her response, my heart hammering against my ribs with an anxiety I haven't felt since leading my first battle charge. This moment feels just as crucial, just as capable of changing everything.

But the sound that bursts from Annalise's throat catches me completely off guard. Her laughter rings through the library, bouncing off columns and ancient tomes. My wings stiffen, feathers bristling at the unexpected response.

"You're both idiots." She shakes her head, platinum hair catching the light. A knowing smile plays across her lips - one I haven't seen since she was small. "I knew the moment I saw you together the first time. It’s been so obvious."

My mouth opens, then closes. For the first time in decades, I find myself without words. Heat creeps up my neck as I remember all the times I thought we were being discreet. The lingering glances across rooms. The way Eva's presence drew me like gravity.

Annalise leans forward, her silver eyes sparking with mischief. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? Eva stops speaking mid-sentence when you enter a room. And you—" She points an accusing finger at my chest. "You smile. Actually smile. It's disturbing."

"I smile," I protest, but the words sound weak even to my ears.

"No, you scowl less intensely. There's a difference." She sits back, crossing her arms. Her wings settle into a relaxed curve behind her, golden feathers catching the sun. "Besides, Eva blushes every time someone mentions your name. It's painfully obvious."

The tightness in my chest loosens, replaced by something dangerously close to hope. But there's a shadow behind her eyes, a tension in her shoulders that tells me we're not done.

"You're... truly alright with this?" The words scrape past my throat.

Her smile falters, just for a moment. "Eva makes you human again. And she—" Annalise looks down at her hands. "She sees me. Not just as your daughter or my mother's replacement. Just... me."

The weight of years seems to lift from my shoulders. My daughter's words echo in my mind - she sees through me, through the walls I've built. A strange ache fills my chest, not entirely unpleasant. My wings shift, catching rays of afternoon sun that paint the library in warm gold.

"When did you become so perceptive?" I lean forward, studying her face—really looking at her for perhaps the first time in years. The sharp angles of her cheekbones, the knowing glint in those silver eyes so like her mother's. But there's something uniquely Annalise there too, a strength I never noticed before.

"Someone had to be." She traces the spine of her book, a habit she's had since childhood. "You were too busy brooding in your office to notice much of anything."

The barb stings, but there's no real venom behind it. Her wings flutter slightly - a tell she's never learned to control. She's nervous, despite her brave front.

"So it doesn’t bother you then?” I scrub at my jaw. “That Eva might be…more than just here to work.”

She shakes her head, and I nod, not sure what else to say.

"You're doing it again," Annalise says.

"Doing what?"

"That thing where you almost smile but catch yourself." She leans back, crossing her arms. "It's okay to be happy, you know. Mother would have wanted that."

The mention of Sera doesn't cut as deeply as it once did. Perhaps Eva has healed more than just my heart - she's helped heal this rift between my daughter and me, without even trying.

"I like to think so, too,” I say softly, and for once, it feels right. Annalise and I can both love Sera - and still love Eva.

And that’s what this is. I love her.