Rejected and Pregnant I Fled The Pack (Evelyn and Damon) novel Chapter 266

Ethan pov

I'd settled back at my desk that afternoon, shirtless again given the room's warmth and my own general preference for comfort while reviewing additional training footage, and within minutes I felt it—the distinct, unmistakable weight of Nadia's gaze tracking across my shoulders from where she sat reading on the bed.

I kept my attention deliberately fixed on the laptop screen, though I couldn't entirely suppress the small, satisfied smirk tugging at my mouth.

*She likes staring,* my wolf offered, something distinctly amused in his internal observation, considerably lighter than his usual protective vigilance. *Show her more.*

I felt her gaze shift as I reached for my water glass, stretching slightly in the process, understanding the movement would emphasize considerably more of whatever she apparently found so genuinely captivating about my current, shirtless state.

I heard her breath catch softly.

The small, satisfied warmth building in my chest at that reaction proved genuinely difficult to suppress, and I allowed myself a brief glance over my shoulder, catching her expression before she could actually school it back into careful neutrality.

Her eyes were wide, her cheeks already carrying that familiar, telltale flush I'd come to recognize over these past several days, and she quickly redirected her attention back toward her book, though the considerable pink still evident across her face suggested my brief glance had thoroughly confirmed exactly what she'd been doing.

"Enjoying your book," I asked, unable to entirely resist the genuine temptation to actually tease her about the obvious distraction.

"Very much," she said, her voice carrying a distinctly unconvincing quality given how visibly she'd just been caught.

"Which page are you currently on," I asked, turning my chair slightly to actually face her directly now, genuine amusement evident in my expression.

She hesitated, clearly attempting to actually recall any specific detail from whatever she'd purportedly been reading. "I don't recall the exact page number," she said finally, something defensive entering her tone despite the obvious admission embedded within that response.

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