Page 15 of Mile High Daddy

She turns to me, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

I step closer, just enough to make her glance up at me, her green eyes catching the light. “You’ve seen nothing yet,kiska.”

Her blush returns, and she quickly turns away, mumbling something about finding her room. I watch her retreat, my smirk softening into something else—something I can’t quite name. I’ve lived long enough to know better. To know she’s too young, too untouched for a man like me. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting her.

As much as I want to push, to see just how far that blush will spread, I remind myself that patience is a virtue. For now, this is enough.

Dinner arrives quickly after I step out, freshened up.

I ordered enough to ensure she’d eat—roasted chicken, grilled vegetables, fresh bread, and a bottle of wine to take the edge offher nerves. The hotel staff sets everything up on the table in the living area, efficient and silent, before leaving us alone again.

Lila sits curled up on the couch, glass of wine already in hand, her face turned toward the window.

I take a seat across from her, pouring myself a glass, but I don’t drink. Instead, I watch her, her auburn hair falling in soft waves around her face, her green eyes fixed on the glass in her hands.

“You should slow down,” I say, my voice calm but firm.

She glances up, her lips curving into a faint, almost defiant smile. “Why? Afraid I can’t handle it?”

“No,” I reply, leaning back in my chair. “But I think you’re trying to drown something, and that rarely works.”

Her smile fades, and she sets the glass down with a sigh. “Maybe I am,” she admits. “This is…a lot. Everything about today has been a lot.”

I nod, giving her the space to continue.

“For the first time in my life,” she says softly, “I just…ran away. From everything. From my responsibility, from the person everyone expects me to be.” She looks at me, her eyes glassy but determined. “It’s terrifying.”

“And freeing,” I add, my tone lighter, teasing.

Her lips twitch, but she doesn’t fully smile. “Maybe a little.”

I take a sip of my wine, studying her. “It’s not the worst thing, you know. Running. Sometimes it’s the only way to figure out where you’re supposed to be.”

She laughs softly, shaking her head. “You sound like you have a lot of experience in that department.”

“Perhaps,” I say, letting the word hang in the air.

She picks up her glass again, swirling the wine but not drinking it. “You’re not what I expected, Mikhail.”

“And what did you expect?”

“I don’t know,” she says, her voice quiet. “But not…this.”

I smirk, watching as she takes another sip. Her cheeks are rosier now, her shoulders a little more relaxed, though there’s still something guarded about her.

“You’re thinking too much again,” I say, setting my glass down. “You need a distraction.”

Her gaze sharpens slightly, her curiosity piqued. “Like what?”

I let my smirk deepen, leaning forward slightly. “Well, we could always revisit what you said on the plane.”

Her eyes widen, and for a moment, she looks genuinely flustered. But then she surprises me—her expression softens, and she leans back, meeting my gaze head-on.

“I’m not ashamed of being a virgin,” she says defiantly. I like her—too much already.

“You shouldn’t be,” I reply, my tone more serious now.

She tilts her head, studying me. “Are you?”