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“Hey, Dani.” He returns it with a tight squeeze before holding me at arm’s length. “Man, you grew into a young woman while I was in Chicago, didn’t you?”
I roll my eyes emphatically. “I’ve kind of been doing that for years now, Pyotr. You just finally decided to notice.”
Pyotr cocks an eyebrow at me, and I know it’s because very few people are brave enough to tease him like I do. But I’ve earned the right. As Ben’s annoying younger sister and honorary younger sister to Pyotr, I’ve never had to pull punches.
“Silvia’s down the hall, trying to put Isla down for a nap. I finally got banned from the room as ‘too much of a distraction,’ so good luck.” Pyotr juts his chin in the direction he’s referring to.
“Thanks.” I head toward the corner of the hall.
“Oh, Dani,” Pyotr adds, stopping me short just before I leave the foyer.
I turn to meet his eye again.
“We’d love it if you stayed for dinner. I’m sure Silvia will say as much, but she would be appalled with me if I failed to invite you.”
I laugh. “Sounds like she’s got you properly trained finally,” I tease.
As Pyotr glares me down, I leave him with an evil wink, stepping around the corner.
And walking straight into a giant cardboard box.
It hides the face of the mover carrying it, but I can hear his muffled grunt as I knock him off balance. It throws me off balance, too, and as I stumble, an apology gushes from my lips.
That’s what I get for being a smartass.
“I am so, so sorr—whoops!” In my effort to move out of his way, I do an awkward twirl, tripping over my feet, and suddenly, I’m falling backward.
Before I can throw out a hand to catch myself, strong arms close around me.
Heart hammering, I gasp as I’m righted in an instant, firm hands gripping my upper arms and turning me to face the broad, muscular chest of my rescuer. Speechless, I let my eyes travel slowly up the gorgeous and intimidating frame before me until I find a pair of shockingly blue eyes.
Efrem.
My heart kicks up a notch as his thick head of golden hair falls across his forehead into his eyes. Butterflies flutter in my stomach, like they do every time I lay eyes on the towering Russian specimen who looks—and feels—like he’s sculpted out of marble rather than flesh.
Embarrassment burns in my cheeks as I realize I’m not only inches away from a man I’ve had a crush on since I met him as a young teenager, but he also just witnessed a painfully clumsy moment of mine. My lips part to say something, but I’m so flustered I can’t think of what those words might be. My eyes open wide in silent panic as my mouth goes suddenly dry.
“You are alright?” he asks, his Russian accent smooth and quiet compared to Val’s abrasive one. It makes a shiver run up my spine, and I fight to contain it.
“I-I y-yes,” I stutter, my face heating further at my thick tongue.
A crooked smile tugs at one corner of his full lips, hinting at amusement. It suits his strikingly masculine features and strong jaw perfectly, giving him an almost cocky expression, though I know he’s anything but. In all the time I’ve known him, he’s never once bragged about himself.
Though he has plenty of assets he could cover in that regard—like his shoulders, which are as broad as a normal-sized doorway, or his bulging arms that hold me up as if I weigh no more than a feather.
God, why is he so gorgeous? I can hardly think straight this close to him; when I can smell the earthy scent of his cologne and feel the warmth radiating from his massive palms. My skin buzzes with intense awareness at his touch.
Considering he’s nearly a decade older than me and probably thinks of me as a child, I should not be this attracted to him. But I can’t help the way he affects me any more than I could convince my heart to stop beating.
“You are dripping,” he observes, his amusement growing as it makes his eyes sparkle.
He releases one of my arms to comb the hair back out of his face, and for a split second, I would love nothing more than to do that myself and feel how silky it is because it looks so soft.
Then I register what he had just said to me.
“Excuse me?” I ask, my back straightening as my blush cranks up several more degrees. Did he just say I’mdripping? As I take stock of myself, I have to admit the growing moisture between my thighs is in no small part due to his proximity. But it’s not like he would know about that… And even if he did, I can’t believe he would say something so crass.
He chuckles. “Your flowers.” He reaches to straighten the vase I’d completely forgotten about during my fall. “They are spilling water on the floor.”
