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I glance down, taking note for the first time that I am, in fact, dripping water onto the rug and my new pair of Jimmy Choos.
“Oh. Right.” I don’t think I could blush any harder if I tried. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
It seems then that Efrem notices how close we are. Or maybe he just thinks I can finally maintain my own balance because he gently lets his other hand fall from my arm. He takes a single step back, though his intense blue eyes continue to watch me.
“It is nice to see you around again, Miss Richelieu. You do not visit so often anymore.” His eyes flick down my body, as if taking me in fully for the first time. Then they return to my face.
The assessment is subtle, so fast I could almost miss it. But the power of his gaze sends a shiver racing back down my spine. If I’m not careful, I just might lose my cool here. Releasing a breathy laugh, I flick the platinum tips of my chic A-line bob.
“Don’t tell me you missed me,” I tease.Oh god, am I flirting with him now?That definitely sounded like flirting.
I need to bail before I make an even bigger fool of myself. I must look like a complete idiot at this point. What is it about Efrem that makes me act like a giddy schoolgirl? I don’t do this around guys. And he’s definitely not someone my parents would approve of anyway.
But the longer the silence extends between us, the more flustered I become. Then it hits me. I told him not to tell me he missed me. Does that mean he did?
I don’t know what to make of the expression on his face. It still holds mild amusement, but there’s something more there. A tension—maybe a discomfort even. Oh god. Not even twenty-four hours into their return, and I’m already making Pyotr’s employees feel uncomfortable.
Not just any employee, either. Efrem. The guy who could model for the cover of romance novels if he felt so inclined. Just the thought of it brings a smile back to my face. Efrem as a model. He would probably terrify his photographers every time he looked at the camera.
His gaze is so… dangerous. Perceptive. He doesn’t miss a thing.
No, he’s far better suited to be a bodyguard. I couldn’t even imagine someone wanting to hurt Pyotr if it meant crossing paths with the behemoth before me.
“You are looking for Mrs. Veles?” he asks.
I clear my throat and nod, so he gestures to the appropriate door.
“She will be very pleased to see you, I am sure.” He steps to the side, indicating I should leave first.
And though I’m still frazzled and my thoughts are scattered, I clutch the vase of flowers and step past him. When I glance back over my shoulder, he’s already gone, moving silently from the hall with a kind of dexterous stealth that betrays his natural size.
“Come in,” Silvia’s voice commands after I knock gently on the door.
She doesn’t sound like she’s trying to avoid waking Isla.
Turning the knob, I step into the room and confirm my suspicions. Isla sits at a small plastic table, crayons in hand, as she scribbles over a coloring book.
“Hey,” I say warmly, smiling at the adorable mother and daughter.
Silvia looks up at me, and though she seems exasperated, she gives me a broad grin. “Hey,” she says breathily, rising from her crouch.
“So… no nap time today, I take it?” I joke lightly, meeting Silvia halfway to give her a hug.
She laughs. “It would appear not. Too many exciting things going on. At least we have Isla’s room all setup, so she can hopefully get a full night’s sleep. But this is a pleasant surprise! What brings you here?”
“Well, I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.” I offer up the vase of flowers.
“Those are stunning!” Silvia takes them, pressing her nose to the blossoms and breathing deeply. “Thank you.”
“Of course!”
“Does this mean you can stay for dinner?”
“I don’t want to intrude. You probably need time to settle in,” I object. Poor Silvia looks like she needs a nap herself. I’m sure moving with a toddler can’t be easy, even with an entire crew of professionals doing the hard labor.
“I insist,” Silvia presses.
