His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 288 The Lovers’ Dance

Ella

The crimson hue that painted my cheeks felt hotter than the finest wine.

“Dance?” I echoed, a mix of incredulity and apprehension dripping from the word. Logan’s smirk only deepened, his gaze roving over me in a manner that was equally taunting and enticing.

“Wine just has a way of making me want to move,” he said, taking a step closer, his body. swaying lightly to the gentle rhythm of the song playing in the background. “Especially to a song like this. Don’t you feel it?”

Biting my lip, I fidgeted on the spot and took a step back. “I… I don’t really know how to dance,” I admitted, though it felt more like a weak excuse to get out of having to get close to him. He raised a brow in surprise.

“You? Ella Morgan, heir to the Morgan legacy, doesn’t know how to dance? Weren’t there galas, balls, and all sorts of fancy parties where dancing was practically a requirement?”

Rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly, I nodded. “They did make me take lessons. Loads of them. But,” I paused, seeking the right words, “I was a bit of a tomboy growing up. Always running around in the mud, climbing trees. Those dancing lessons? I sat there, arms crossed, as sullen as a raincloud. Refused to learn a step.”

A chuckle escaped Logan’s lips, and his eyes sparkled with amusement. “So, the rebellious little heiress. You continue to surprise me, Ella. How about now? Fancy a quick lesson?”

by our earlier disagreements-wanted to refuse, the ambiance, the wine, and perhaps

“But don’t

the learning process,” he quipped, extending a hand. Accepting it, I found myself pulled into his embrace. The warmth

feet, but Logan’s hold was secure. With

just how fluidly he moved. Logan was a natural dancer, his steps

evident in my eyes. Our gazes locked, and I saw something shift in his-a tenderness, perhaps. Something far different and far softer than the

each other’s eyes, the world outside seemed to fade. The gentle strumming of

to synchronize, my initial clumsiness melting away with

said, smirking down at me. “Not so

cheeks tinge a shade of red. “I guess not,” I murmured.

“Or maybe you just never had. the right partner.” My face turned even redder, but

as the final chords of the song resonated in the still air, reality came rushing back. Our faces were mere inches apart,

been racing the entire song, now felt as if it was about to leap out of my chest. We teetered on the brink of a kiss. The music was still, but the tension between Logan and me was palpable, electric. Our lips hovered, almost

thick it was almost unbearable. But just as the world seemed to fade, my instincts kicked in, propelling me away from him. I was out

tug, he pulled me into the embrace I had just fled from. Our faces were close, so close that I could feel

his voice low, coaxing. His blue eyes, darkened with desire, locked onto mine. “I like you. I really like you. Maybe it’s this whole ‘fated mates’ thing. messing with our heads,

as sincere as they sounded, felt like an intrusion-a trespass into the sanctuary of my emotions. With a surge of strength, I shoved him off, creating a

bluff. “Liar,” she chided,

shoulder in a show of defiance, I fixed Logan with a glare, my eyes aflame with a mixture of

warned, my voice low and deadly, “I’ll slice you open with these.” As I spoke, my claws, sharp and deadly, began to protrude from my

me, a callback to my more primal instincts. My canines elongated into fangs, and my ears, normally rounded, sharpened to fine points – a throwback to the fiery little girl I once was, the one who