And she listened to every word like I was giving her treasure.
Weclaimedasemi-privatespot on the beach. The rocks formed a natural barrier on one side, blocking the wind and most of the view from the main beach. Mikhail had found this spot decades ago. Had set up their family blanket here every summer. Now it was mine to share with Sophie.
I spread out the blanket I'd packed from the compound. Thick wool, big enough for two people to lie comfortably. Sophie helped me anchor the corners with our shoes and the cooler I'd brought with water and snacks.
The sand underneath was warm from morning sun. The ocean stretched out endless and blue-green. Same color as Sophie's eyes. Waves rolled in with that eternal rhythm.
"This is perfect," Sophie said. She was already pulling off her sundress. Underneath was a simple navy blue bikini. Nothing revealing. But watching her reveal that much skin in public made my jaw clench.
Mine. She was mine. And every man on this beach could see exactly what belonged to me.
She caught my expression. Smiled. "Don't worry, Daddy. I'm all yours."
The casual use of Daddy in public should have triggered alarms. Should have made me check our surroundings forthreats. But she was already running toward the water and I found myself following without thinking.
The ocean was cold. Early June meant the water was still closer to sixty degrees than seventy. Sophie squealed when the first wave hit her legs. Jumped back. Then waded in deeper like she couldn't decide between fleeing and embracing.
I walked in after her. The cold water was bracing. Cleared my head. Made everything sharp and present.
She splashed me. Deliberately. Aimed a handful of water right at my chest and laughed when I reacted.
"Sophie." A playful warning.
"What?" She was grinning. Looking up at me with pure mischief. "The water's nice. You should enjoy it."
She splashed me again.
I moved fast. Grabbed her around the waist. Lifted her clean off her feet. She shrieked—actual shriek of surprise and delight—and wrapped her legs around my waist instinctively.
"I could throw you in," I said. Carried her deeper where the water would be over her head. "Right here. Completely under."
"You wouldn't." But her eyes were bright. Excited. Like she wanted me to try.
"Wouldn't I?"
I loosened my grip. Let her slip slightly. She shrieked again and clung tighter. Her arms around my neck. Her legs locked around my waist. Her whole body pressed against mine.
"Kolya, don't! Please!"
The nickname combined with the pleading made me soften. I carried her back to shallower water. Set her down gently where the waves only reached her knees.
"You're mean," she said. But she was smiling. Laughing. Her honey-colored hair was wet where water had splashed up onto her. Her face was bright with joy.
I'd never seen her like this. Playful. Unguarded. Free.
The Sophie I'd met at the auction had been terrified. The Sophie who worked in my library was focused and intense. The Sophie who came to my bed was either desperate with need or small and vulnerable in Little space.
But this Sophie—this laughing, splashing, sun-bright Sophie—was someone new. Someone who felt safe enough to play.
"Come on," I said. Caught her hand. "Let's dry off."
We returned to the blanket. She was shivering slightly—the water had been cold and the sun hadn't warmed her enough yet. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her shoulders. Rubbed her arms to warm her.
"Better?"
"Mmm." She leaned against me. Let me warm her. "The water's cold."
"It'll be warmer in July."
