Page 3 of Ruthless Daddies

I reach her in a few strokes, wrapping my arm around her and guiding her up. She’s small, maybe only five or six years old, her little arms reaching out desperately.

We break the surface, and just as I’m hoisting her up, a strong hand grabs me, pulling both of us out of the water with an ease that surprises me. I tumble out of the pool, gasping, clutching the child close to my chest, and only then do I realize that I’m staring up at a man.

His hair is damp, dark curls clinging to his forehead, and his brown eyes—intense and piercing—are fixed on me. He takes the child from my arms, cradling her.

“Mila, Mila.”

Mila coughs up some water.

He’s visibly shaken, one hand smoothing down her wet curls as he murmurs something in Russian, voice filled with concern.

“It’s okay, Mila. You’re okay, baby girl. I’m right here.”

Mila coughs, sputtering, but as she sees his face, her fear eases, little hands reaching to clutch his shirt. He holds her close, rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles, his focus entirely on her.

After a moment, he glances up at me.

“Are you alright?”

I blink, realizing that I’m still dripping wet, shivering in the cool breeze that’s cutting through my soaked clothes. “I…I’m fine,” I manage, still catching my breath. “Is she…is Mila okay?”

He nods, but his gaze lingers on me, something like admiration flickering in his dark eyes. “She will be, thanks to you. That was…brave of you. Most people wouldn’t have reacted so quickly.”

The warmth in his eyes softens his otherwise intense features. He has a strong jawline, softened only slightly by a shadowof stubble, dark hair that curls damply around his temples, and piercing brown eyes that seem to hold both gratitude and curiosity.

I take a shaky breath, feeling both proud and slightly embarrassed. “I just did what anyone would do.”

“Anyone?” He raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into a slight smile.

He looks me over, clearly noting my drenched clothes and the absence of a swimsuit, and a flicker of something almost like approval crosses his face. “I’m Nikolai Morozov. Mila’s uncle.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling a strange mixture of relief and…something else I can’t quite name. I suddenly feel a pang of shyness under his intense gaze, and my cheeks warm as I realize the way he’s looking at me.

His gaze returns to Mila. “What were you doing so close to the pool, Mila?”

“Amanda fell in,” she says, pulling out a raggedy doll from her arms. “I had to save her.”

Nikolai says something under his breath that I don’t quite catch.

He sighs, his expression softening. “It’s okay, Mila. But you know better. The pool is dangerous if no one’s with you.”

“What’s going on here?” says a voice. I don’t have to look up to know who it is. Ivan walks up to us, his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

Nikolai answers before I can. “Mila slipped into the pool. Miss Parker here pulled her out.”

Ivan’s eyes land on me, and for a moment, I feel as if he’s reading right through me, weighing every possible detail. His face softens, but only slightly. “Miss Parker,” he says, his voice softer but still firm, “thank you.”

His gaze lingers, and though his expression remains composed, there’s a glint in his ice-blue eyes—a flicker of respect or maybe something else, something that makes my heart thump even harder.

“It’s…it’s no problem,” I manage, swallowing back a fresh wave of nerves. “I’m just glad she’s okay.”

Ivan nods, then looks at Nikolai. “Why don’t you take Mila inside to get changed? Miss Parker and I can continue the interview.”

Nikolai hesitates, his gaze flicking back to me with something almost like regret. “Of course. Come on, Mila.”

She glances back at me with a shy smile as Nikolai leads her away, disappearing into the house, leaving me alone with Ivan. I stand up, wringing out my wet clothes, feeling all too aware of his piercing gaze on me.

“Why did you jump in after her?” he asks, studying me with that same quiet intensity.

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