His gaze snapped to hers. Measured. Intense. Like he was making sure she could be trusted with the most precious thing in his world. And Daphne’s heart flipped all over again.
A dad who loved his little girl.
She didn’t blink, only held his attention, daring him to doubt her.
Finally, something shifted in his face. That soft look crept a little too close to... tender.
No, no. Stop that. He is a rival. An arrogant Brit with an emotional support smirk and an unhealthy aversion to proper tea.
But then he stepped closer. The doorframe was at her back. No escape.
“Thank you.”
The air thickened, and Daphne decided to stop breathing because maybe it would help.
Then—because he clearly couldn’t help himself—a crooked grin formed on his face, the flirt back in full force. “Be back in a trice.”
He disappeared down the hallway, leaving behind the scent of vanilla, cedar, and confusion.
Daphne exhaled. Hard. Whateverthatwas—it needed to stop. Preferably with a bucket of cold water.
She turned back to her neon bathroom with a bloody-nosed little girl staring up at her and tried to sort out what to do next.
“Green is my second favorite color,” Lucy announced, matter-of-factly.
“Is it?” Daphne grinned, kneeling to start the bathwater. “I bet I can guess your first favorite.”
Lucy’s eyes glimmered with a smile mostly hidden behind the pillowcase, granting permission. What had happened to Lucy’s mom? Daphne’s chest squeezed. She knew the hole left behind from the loss of a mother.
And if Finn was raising Lucy alone?
Well, that implied a lot of possibly painful somethings, didn’t it?
“Hmm,” Daphne mused aloud, scanning Lucy’s bright pink nightgown down to her matching socks. “Blue?”
Lucy shook her dark head, bobbing a few curls. Gosh, she was a cutie.
Daphne grinned and moved to the linen closet, pulling out a fresh towel and washcloth. “Orange?”
Lucy gave a dramatic shudder in full-body disapproval.
“It’s a princess color,” Lucy prompted.
“Ohhh,” Daphne said, drawing out the word, eyes wide with theatrical discovery. “Well, then. In that case... pink?”
At that, Lucy lowered the pillowcase, revealing the red-streaked skin beneath her nose and the world’s most triumphant nod. “Yes.”
“I like pink too.” Daphne reached for the washcloth, lowering herself to her knees near the little darling. Her smile came quickly. Her eyes sparkled.
Daphne’s assumptions hit a snag. Whatever flirty, smug, infuriating Finn Dashwood was doing, it clearly included being a very good dad.
“Is it yourfavorite?” Lucy exaggerated the word. There was a challenge in her tone—a test of true princess allegiance.
Daphne wrung out the cloth and tilted her head in return. “It’s mysecondfavorite.”
Lucy’s eyes widened with the drama such a statement deserved. “Den what’s your first favorite?”
“The color of your eyes, Lucy.” Daphne leaned close, carefully dabbing a fresh washcloth against the crinkled skin beneath her nose. “I love green best.”
