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“I’m messy,” she declares to her mother as Silvia adds the finishing touches to her own stunning painting. As a charcoal artist, it seems she has some overlapping skills in finger painting.
“You are messy,” Silvia agrees as Isla holds her hands up in front of her mother’s face.
Then Silvia boops her daughter on the nose, leaving a bright-orange dot on its tip. Isla squeals, going cross-eyed for a moment as she tries to see the color. Then she jumps at her mom, fingers splayed as she plants her palms on Silvia’s protective apron that keeps her clothes safe and stain-free.
I laugh as the painting project devolves into a color war in moments, Silvia decorating her daughter with little dots of color while Isla wipes handfuls of paint on her mom. Dani laughs along with me, unwittingly joining in the paint fight when a splash of color makes it across the table and her apron-clad chest.
“Okay, okay, you win!” Silvia concedes after a moment. She’s wearing every color of the rainbow, some colors even staining the tips of her hair.
Isla gives a broad, victorious smile, her round cheeks glowing.
“Let’s clean up that face of yours—no, don’t lick the paint!” Scooping her daughter up, Silvia takes Isla to the paint sink in the corner of the art room.
As the paint-smeared duo takes a moment to clean up, Isla’s vivacious giggle erupts, bubbling over the soft sound of water hitting the sink basin. I stand, collecting a towel to clean my hand up.
Dani turns to me, her laughter soft and her eyes warm as she holds her colorful hands palms up.
“Would you like a rag?” I offer, holding up the damp one that I used to get the yellow off my one finger. That was all the painting I allowed myself.
“Thanks,” Dani breathes, closing the distance between us to accept it.
“It seems you did not make it out entirely unscathed,” I observe, taking her chin lightly between my thumb and finger and tilting her head to reveal the bright line of purple paint that splashed all the way up her neck to her jaw.
Dani’s deep dimples catch my eyes as she smiles wide enough to reveal her white teeth. “Help a girl out?” she suggests playfully.
And though I know I should be keeping my distance, remaining professional, and focusing my attention on their safety, I can’t resist. Retrieving another damp towel, I wipe gently at the mess, cleaning the bright color from her golden skin.
Dani keeps her head tilted, exposing her long neck as she tries to grant me better access. And as I brush the towel softly over her jaw, electric heat crackles between us. Slowing as my job comes to an end, I let my fingers linger on her soft skin.
Dani’s eyes dart to my lips.
And I can’t help myself. I lean in and steal a kiss.
Fire ignites in my chest as my lips find hers, their soft fullness conforming as we share a passionate kiss. Immediately, I want her. All of her. But I have to show discipline. I’m not here for fun. I’m not here for pleasure. I’m here to ensure Silvia and Isla—and Dani—are safe.
Dani’s fingers find the collar of my shirt, and she pulls me to her, intensifying the kiss as she prolongs it. And when we break apart, my chest aches with the absence of her.
Sinking back onto her feet, Dani looks up at me, her blue eyes deep and filled with a silent fire that tells me she’s not finished with me. Still, she steps away, allowing me to compose myself once again.
Steeling myself, I straighten my clothes and take a step back to gain fresh air and a clear head. Dani is far too intoxicating.
“I give up,” Silvia says, turning off the faucet and facing us. “I’m taking Isla for a bath before dinner.”
Dani nods. “You might want to think about your hair too.”
She giggles as Silvia lifts her long brunette locks to reveal the patches of color there.
Silvia groans. “Okay, shower time it is.” Then she smiles at her little girl. “Efrem, will you ask the kitchen to have our food prepared in an hour?”
“Yes, gospozha,” I agree, bowing my head slightly.
“And tell them to make four plates. You’ll be dining with us.”
Shifting Isla onto her hip, Silvia heads from the room without further discussion, her self-satisfied smile leaving me speechless. Without Pyotr here, the lines seem to be blurring between friendship and employment, and I need to keep my head on straight. But it’s proving particularly hard when Dani looks at me like she is.
6
DANI
