"My favorite childhood memory..." I tap a finger on my bottom lip, thinking. His eyes follow the movement.

"My nanny, Freyja used to bring me a glass of milk and chocolate chip cookies whenever I was upset." Or on one of those days after daddy beat me up. "We would dunk our cookies in the milk and eat them and then she would say, "Oh, look, mina älsklingar, it is now chocolate milk!" and then we would drink our chocolate milk together." I pause, remembering. I remember Freyja's face, her smile, and her hugs, but as strong as my memory is, I can't recall the sound of her voice anymore. "She was Swedish, my nanny. She was young and very pretty. She looked after me since I was a baby."

"How old were you when she quit?"

"Seven," I say. "And she didn't...she didn't quit."

His eyes look thoughtful as they stare into mine. Then his jaw tightens at the implication of what I'm telling him sinks in. I can see that he wants to ask more questions about how my nanny died, but I'm thankful that he doesn't.

We've abandoned all the pretense of watching the movie a while ago and all we're doing is talking. I never liked talking. Or rather nobody really wanted to listen to me before. I mean, really listen. They pretended to listen but they're not really interested in what I have to say. They wanted me for my looks and body or be my friends for my father's wealth or to get close to my brothers or because I was their ticket to get into the best parties but they're not truly interested to get to know me. Not really.

But with him, it's different. There's this strong connection between us right from the start. An attraction. But it's not just physical. I can feel it. He listens as though he's genuinely interested to get to know me. He listens to words spoken and unspoken. His eyes are intense on me and his body is leaning toward me as though he doesn't want to miss a word. Our conversation is fun and exciting and sometimes...intense. Mainly because he's exciting and I want to know about him too.

Besides, I need something to tell my father. So far, no matter what I ask, his answer is freely given but hasn't given me anything of any value for Astaroth to use against him.

"Now, tell me something that not many people know about you," I say, trying to lighten things up. When he still seems tense, I add, "Preferably something embarrassing."

His lips slowly curl up into a smile. His tie is gone, his hair is sexily tousled, and a few buttons of his shirt are undone. He slides his gaze to the tv even though I know his mind is on something else. One arm is resting along the back of the sofa. His fingers are idly playing with a lock of my hair.

"My great aunt, Tata Bijou still has a nude picture of me when I was a toddler," he announces a while later.

"What?" I sputter before I burst out laughing. "No way!"

"Yes, way," he confirms with a nod. "I'm talking about full-frontal nudity." His eyes are still fixed on the tv and his mouth quirks up at the corners despite his best effort not to smile.

"Oh, my God! Why?"

"As a blackmail material. She keeps reminding me about it and threatens to post it on the internet whenever I misbehave," he replies, fully grinning by now. "Thank goodness, she hasn't shown it to anyone outside the family... yet."

"Well, now I have to see it."

"Why do you want to see my nude baby picture when you can look at the real thing now?" he teases.

My eyes fly up. They clash with his bright hazel ones and hold. And just like that, the air between us feels electrified again and I'm fully aware of how we're almost touching. I'm aware of the heat of his body next to mine and his hand near my neck.

My heart gallops into a race and my temperature rises. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and his eyes track my movement like a predator watching its prey. Fascinated. Dark and hungry.

His firm but soft-looking lips part and I want nothing more than to bite into them and to taste them. I want him so badly, I feel as though I could combust if I didn't touch him.

"Danica..." he groans, sounding tortured before his hand grip the back of my neck and suddenly he's on top of me. His body is pinning me down, pushing me into the plush sofa.

"Stop me," he says but I want this as much as he does. So I raise a hand to his broad shoulder and another to curl around the back of his neck, pulling him down.

His lips touch mine and the world explodes behind my closed eyelids. We both moan as he devours my lips. I readily open my mouth to let his tongue plunders inside. Our tongues tangle and slide together. Battling, tasting each other. His mouth is warm and he tastes like red wine that he'd been sipping and everything delicious and sinful.

His kiss is claiming, hungry, and urgent. He sucks and bites into my bottom lip like he owns me and his arms go under me to possessively circle my waist.

My fingers tangle in his silky hair as his mouth moves down across my jaw, hungrily kissing, nipping, and licking. He stops to nibble on my earlobe before he moves to lick and suck behind my ear. A surge of electricity flows through me straight to my core and we're both grinding against each other.

"Sacha..." I moan breathlessly as he latches his mouth to the beating vein on my neck. His hand is sliding underneath my skirt to caress my thigh.

Something hard is pushing against my stomach and when I roll my hips against it, he moans deep in his throat.

I love the way he's kissing me, the way he tastes and smells, his sexy growls, and the way he's losing control.

My heart feels like it's about to explode in my chest when his hot demanding lips cover mine again with a groan. His fingers dive into my hair as he angles my head to his liking as he continues to feast on my mouth.

I lose all thoughts as I grab his hair and pull while my other hand moves over his solid wide shoulder and back.

Vaguely, I hear a buzzing sound. It stops as we both ignore it but it starts again soon after. Again and again.

Finally, with a groan, he rips his mouth off of me. His breathing is hard and ragged as his eyes fall on his phone on the side table.

His lips are red and swollen from our kisses and his hair is mused up from my fingers. Hunger is still evident in his hazel eyes when he looks at me again but he's already pushing himself off me and his hand is reaching for the phone.

He takes a deep breath before he slides his long elegant finger to answer the call.

"Hello, Mr. Hotshot! Finally! What were you up to?" It's a cheerful woman's voice coming from the phone, bringing me back down to earth.

He clears his throat. "Hey, how are you?"

"Good, but when are you coming home? You've been away for so long this time. We have a situation here, and I miss you." The last part is said as though she's pouting.

"What kind of situation?" he asks, walking away. The sound of her voice explaining the situation disappears behind the closed doors of his home office.

What had just happened? We were making out like the world was ending just a minute ago and now he's behind the closed doors of his office talking to this woman who said that she missed him.

My face heats up with anger and I realize that I'm jealous as I strain to hear their conversation.

The office must be soundproof because no matter how much I extend my hearing, I can only hear the muffled sound of her voice and he's merely responding with "yes", "yes, I see", and "okay, I agree".

After a while, I give up and get up to stand by the window overlooking Manhattan and touch my lips that are still tingling from his kisses.

A while later, he comes out, closing the doors of the office behind him.

He walks into the living room and stops when he sees me. I have my back to him but can see his reflection clearly in the glass window.

He shoves his hands, along with his phone into the pockets of his pants. "Danica..." he says after a long pause. "I'm flying back to Seattle tomorrow morning."

I turn to face him and what he's saying registers in my brain. It's "I'm flying back", not "we". His home is in Seattle and now he's leaving.

I nod. It's not like I didn't know that the day was coming. Molly told me that he doesn't stay here for long. I mull things over in my head as he watches me. I bet he's going to see that woman when he gets home. I want to know who the woman was but my pride stops me from asking. Instead, I ask, "When are you coming to visit Manhattan again?"

He shrugs. "I don't know..."

"You don't know?" I cut him off, almost growling. "So, I'm free to go home now?"

"Home?" he says, scowling. "This is your home. You can go out shopping or anywhere you want, provided that you take the two guards with you. But your home is here now. And stay away from Nico or all other demons."

Oh, please...most of my friends are half-demons. "You can't tell me where I can or cannot go."

"Danica..." he says.

"If you can go wherever you want, so can I," I snap, turning away from him.

"It's not safe!" he growls.

"Don't feel obligated to protect me!" I tell him before I stomp to my room. But a thought occurs to me and I stop to turn on my heel and face him again. "Did you take the ring?"

"Yes, I did," he readily admits and I don't even have to clarify what ring I was talking about. "I sent it back to Nico Alesi yesterday."

I blink, taken aback at how quickly he admitted it and without shame or any hint of regret or apology. As I said before, the ring wasn't my favorite and it didn't mean anything to me. I just kept wearing it because I knew it annoyed him.

"Why?"

"Because seeing you wearing another man's ring made me want to destroy something or kill someone," he bites out. "You are not engaged to him. You're not going to marry him, Danica. Nico Alessi isn't the marrying type. He's a grandson of Asmodeus, the demon of lust. He had many partners and he will continue to have many partners. He's not going to give up his lifestyle and be loyal to you."

"The same way that you're not giving up your lifestyle and your women?" I ask him.

"Don't believe everything that you read or see online."

"So, are you saying that you're able to stay loyal to one woman?"

"When I commit myself to someone, yes. I will be true to her and only her. I won't ever cheat on my woman." His eyes never waver from mine and it is said with such finality and confidence that I don't doubt him for a second.

I tear my gaze away from his to look down at my glossy pink toenails. For some reason, that makes me sad. I wish someone would love me and value me enough to commit himself to me like that. I know it's crazy and totally impossible, but I wish that someone is him.

Suddenly his finger is underneath my chin, bringing my face up. I didn't see or even hear him moved. "What are you thinking, princess?"

"I'm thinking that we are enemies," I whisper.

"We don't have to be enemies," he says. "You're half-human...and we protect humans."

"What about the demon part of me?" I ask before I move my chin away from his touch. I'm such a foolish half-demon. I should have known better. "As I said before, you don't have to feel obligated to protect me."

*Mina älsklingar = My dear/love

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Hello, my dear readers!

My next update is going to be on Friday evening (est). If you want to read three chapters ahead, go to:

https://Inkitt.app.link/RA_Nicoleridd3y

Thank you so much for reading, commenting, voting, and following. I truly appreciate all your support♥

I hope you all have a wonderful week and pls stay safe.

Much love,

Nicole♥