Page 22 of Scarred Ruin

And my precocious daughter knew how much power she wielded over me.

Her dutiful spin was her signature move, but instead of scampering from the kitchen, she stopped directly in front of Isabel, lifting her sketch and her eyes were even brighter than before. “I want you to have my picture.”

Just as with the moment Mina had come bounding into the room, Isabel’s expression was a combination of joy and surprise. “Oh, honey. Are you certain? It’s so beautiful I’d hate to take it from your collection.” For a split second, I was gifted with witnessing her hand shaking while she accepted the drawing.

Mina nodded profusely.

“Don’t try and tell my daughter no. She will never let you forget it,” I told her.

Isabel sighed, tossing me a look that was all too familiar yet completely foreign at the same time. “Well, then. I guess I have no choice. I will treasure this forever.”

“Or until the picture fades.” Mina’s answer was seconds before she decided to skip her way to the door.

Isabel waited until she left to make a sound.

“Did you just slurp?” I was already asking myself why I felt so at ease around her.

“Of course not.” The blush sweeping across her jaw and the way she pressed her hand to her mouth told me otherwise.

The disarming moment had me smiling, something even my daughter would share was a rarity.

Isabel’s eyes were fire and ice, making whatever emotions she was experiencing impossible to hide. In an awkward moment, we both laughed.

After a few seconds, she forced herself to look away. I watched as she studied the picture once again before moving toward her purse, gingerly folding the sheet of paper and securing it inside.

Experiencing the tension between us, including being uncertain what I should say to her struck me as highly unusual.

“She’s wonderful,” Isabel said.

“She’s very much like her mother. Precious. Highly intelligent and perceptive, enough so I have to remind myself to be extremely careful what I say around her.”

“I can imagine. Children are sponges. They pick up on everything. Every nuance, every misspoken word. Especially when they’re the topic of conversation while not being involved.” A shadow fell across her face. She was concentrating on her wine, thoroughly nervous around me.

“Isabel, you can relax. I meant what I said before.”

“About biting?”

My chuckle was natural as one too many reactions had become around her. “Yes.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I have a mean right hook.”

“I bet you do.”

She moved away from the island and toward the bank of windows allowing me time to enjoy studying every gesture and nuance. There were questions I needed answers to, but I also didn’t want to spook her. There was the project to consider, and she was without a doubt the best architect for the job. In addition, if there was a hidden agenda, confronting her would do the opposite of what I was trying to achieve.

“You take care of your daughter all by yourself?” Her question surprised her.

“I have a nanny; however, Svetlana is off today. I try and maintain a decent schedule, spending as much time with my daughter as possible.” There were at least a dozen questions I needed to ask, mostly about the day at the school but if I was to obtain truthful answers, the best way of doing so would be after gaining even a small amount of trust.

That would only come with her getting to know me.

And perhaps learning more about my relationship with Mina.

“A good father.” She absently tugged on her hair.

I moved closer, flanking her side while allowing her enough space to feel comfortable. “I like to think so. She’s very special to me.”

“You have a brother?”