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Biting my lip, I watch Silvia as she takes a deep, steadying breath, then meets my eye. With a curt nod, she silently tells me she’s put herself back together, and she gives my hand a grateful squeeze before we descend to the first floor.
Both men look up at us as we appear on the landing, and for once, I’m not instantly ensnared by Efrem’s gaze. My eyes follow the silent communication between Silvia and her husband as she stops in front of Pyotr. The deep love between them fills the room, and it breaks my heart to see the fearful goodbye.
Then Efrem’s strong, warm hand enfolds mine, and I turn to meet his blue gaze. It’s so easy to fall into the protective comfort there. We slip out the front door together as Silvia and Pyotr head deeper into the Matron’s house.
* * *
Isla’s adorable giggle seems to echo through the vacant house that feels so intensely massive with just the four of us here. But the little girl hardly seems to notice as she smears green paint across her canvas with her fingers.
Silvia looks up from her own finger painting to smile at her daughter, and when our eyes meet, we both join the little girl’s laughter.
“Mama, I want to paint like this all the time,” Isla says, dipping her hand into the purple paint this time before adding it to her abstract painting.
“Oh?” Silvia asks, “Are you having fun?”
“Yeah!” Isla smiles broadly as she brushes her hair off her face, leaving a purple streak along her temple.
Pressing my lips together, I suppress a laugh and focus my eyes on my own painting—something that I’ve managed to turn into something of an actual image. However, it’s not far from abstract itself. I have to agree with Isla. Finger painting is somewhat therapeutic, even if I’m not the most talented with the medium. But having my hands directly involved in the creative process feels good when I’m trying to take my mind off the vast emptiness of the house.
The typically atmospheric, inspiring art room, with a wall of windows that look out on the beautiful Veles estate, feels too large today. It’s shockingly hard to enjoy the fun, artistic activity without Pyotr and his men to fill the space and make it more like home.
The dark cloud of what’s happening back in the city lingers over us. But neither Silvia nor I dare to bring it up in front of Isla. I sense that Silvia’s hanging onto her composure by a thread. I know she’s trying her best to keep Isla distracted because the little girl has already asked a few times when her dad will join us.
The door groans open, and I glance toward Efrem as he enters the room after having swept the property to ensure everything is safe and secure. His eyes scan the wall of windows as he keeps one ear attuned to the deafening silence that echoes through the rest of the mansion.
His eyes find mine after a moment, and a spark of heat lights between us, making my stomach tremble. But I can tell from the tension in his shoulders that Efrem has a lot on his mind. Most likely the safety of his pakhan, who’s out of reach and risking his life against Efrem’s wishes.
I know how loyal Efrem is to the Veles family. I know how indebted he feels to the Matron and Pyotr, in particular for giving him a second chance at life and helping his mother and brothers in Russia to rise from poverty. It must be painful to be far from Pyotr and the action, unable to guard the man he’s sworn to protect.
“I made a unicorn!” Isla declares, showing off her canvas like the unicorn is clear for all to see. And while her painting is certainly colorful enough to represent the magical beast, only the little girl can distinguish the animal she’s envisioning.
Efrem and I share a smile, unable to keep a straight face with the little girl’s care-free glee. It sends warm tingles through my body to see him enjoying the child, if just for a moment.
We haven’t talked much about the future, about the big stuff like marriage or children. But Isla makes it easy for me to want a family of my own someday. Silvia’s intelligent, happy, curious child is entirely enchanting and makes me want a little girl of my own.
But seeing the indulgent mirth in Efrem’s eyes makes my body heat. I bet he would be a wonderful father. He’s so naturally protective and patient, and gentle. Just picturing how miniature a baby would look in his massive arms makes my heart flutter.
I flush, unable to maintain eye contact with him as the vision fills my mind. I don’t know why I find that daydream so appealing, but I do. I’m flustered at just the thought of Efrem as a father. I’m confident it’s too soon in our relationship to be thinking about a family with him. Even if I’m falling for Efrem more every day and am sure he’s the only person I want to be with, we’ve only been dating for a few months.
We haven’t even said “I love you” yet, though I’ve caught the words on the tip of my tongue more than once.
“Everything good?” Silvia asks casually as her eyes lift to see Efrem’s silent entrance. Her casual tone does a fantastic job of masking the darker undertone of her question.
“The perimeter is secure, gospozha,” he confirms, his deep voice steady and comforting.
It amazes me how intensely reassuring his presence is right now.
“Thank you, Efrem,” Silvia says, smiling before turning her attention back to Isla.
5
EFREM
“What color should I add next?” Dani asks, turning her painting to face Isla.
The little girl frowns, taking the question very seriously, and I suppress the urge to smile as I train my eyes on the open space beyond the wall of windows. I need to keep my focus if I’m going to be their lone protector. I can’t let Isla’s adorable antics distract me.
I understand why Pyotr chose to send me with his family. And though it puts tense knots in my shoulders, I have to respect my pakhan’s wishes. But it feels painfully selfish and irresponsible to be here, watching the three girls enjoy their sweet, care-free day of art when Pyotr’s risking his life without me to ensure his safety.
