Page 2 of Conquer
I have to smirk at the alarm in Magda’s tone. Like father like daughter. Reckless, impulsive decisions aren’t her style.
“Yes,” I say, strutting boldly to the edge of the pool. She lingers back, but I glance over my shoulder to find her watching me with avid interest, bathed in the glow of a few lamps placed strategically throughout the terrace. “You’ve never taken a night swim before?”
Her tiny lips press together, and I can practically see the gears in her brain whirling. Does she trust me enough to divulge whatever bit of information she’s mulling over? Finally, she sighs. “I can’t swim.”
Her voice is so soft, so guarded. I suspect the lacking skill is a sore point for her, and I chalk it up as yet another failure of her last foster family.
“I can teach you,” I suggest, fighting to keep the surprising amount of genuine desire from my voice. I actually want to—though with her birth mother seemingly back in the picture...
Who knows if I’ll get the chance?
Be positive, Tiffy.Forcing yet another grin, I shrug. “I may be too rusty in riding to help you with your pony, but I, my girl, have swum to and fro many a yacht party in the middle of the night.”
I look back again to find her lips twitching, fighting a smile. “What’s a yacht party?”
It’s my turn to be guarded. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”
Sighing, Magda wraps her arms around herself and rocks onto her heels. “I’m cold. Can we go back into the house now?”
Shit.Thinking quickly, I skip to the edge of the pool, say a prayer for this beautiful Chanel ensemble, and then I dive in. The water is a shock to the system, but nowhere near as cold as it could be—as I kick, I recall something Vadim said about it being heated. The second I break the surface, I’m faced with a tiny figure leaning eagerly over the edge of the pool.
With her wide-eyed, gleeful expression, I barely recognize the same surly little girl.
“You are going to get intosomuch trouble,” she declares, sounding ecstatic at the prospect.
As I let my brain toy with what my potential punishments may be—at the hands of my handsome punisher, of course—I feel myself more than matching her excitement.
“God, I hope so.”
“You’re all wet,” she adds more sternly. “And your clothes are all ruined. You’ll probably catch a cold. I bet you’ll get inbigtrouble too.”
My lips twitch into a gleeful smile at the prospect of a disciplinarian Vadim. That is, if he isn’t with Irina right now, bending her over the desk in his office, overcome with lust at her return. My gaze drifts to the house as I picture it…
There goes my smile. To hide my worried expression, I lean back, kicking my legs in an easy backstroke.
“Trouble? I laugh in the face of trouble! And what about you, little Miss? Don’t tell me you’re afraid?”
“I’m not!” She frowns and inches ever closer to the edge of the pool. As she eyes the water, her expression wavers in such a childlike display of hesitation that my heart swells at the adorableness of it all.
“Chicken?” I ask her playfully.
“I can’t swim,” she insists, sounding irritated at having to announce her weakness to the world a second time. So prideful, just like her father.
“I’ll catch you,” I suggest, swimming toward her. “I promise. Keep your feet together. Jump straight down—just whatever you do, don’t panic. I’ve got you.”
Her eyes narrow, her lips pursed in a damn near carbon copy of one of her father’s wary expressions. “Promise?”
I stick out my pinky, deadly serious. “I promise.”
Her eyes blaze as if she wants more than anything to deny that. Prove me wrong. So young, but so mistrustful already. I’m sure she’ll refuse and go storming back into the house when she steps back, smoothing her hands over her beautiful new outfit.
“I’ll always have your back,” I tell her. “You can trust me.”
She shoots me a fearful glance—glimpsed without her trademark mini-wall—and before I even have the chance to mull over the implications, she jumps into the pool. I lunge forward, slipping my arms around her the second I sense her start to flail. She claws at my arms, her tiny nails biting in, but I can tell that she’s trying hard not to panic, even as she sputters at the air, her expression shocked.
“See?” Gently, I kick my legs, sending us further out into the water. “There’s nothing to it.”
She eyes me skeptically, her teeth chattering. But when I shift to let her kick on her own, she does, clinging to my arms as I steer her into the shallower end.
