Her mouth snapped shut and she glared at him adorably. He lotioned the front of her, too, making sure to get her breasts and nipples so thoroughly she was panting when he was done. He threw the lotion bottle on the table in the pagoda and waded into the water, then dove in, letting the cool water close over him and soothe his blue balls.
When his head broke above water, Varushka was knee deep, looking worried.
“You shouldn’t go Underwater like that.”
Her expression clued him in. “Can you swim, little bird?”
“No. Where would I have learned to do that?”
“Come here.”
She obeyed, but stopped when she got waist deep. “Can this be far enough?”
Konstantin moved closer, took her in his arms and brought her out to where the water met his waist. He urged her onto her back, and floated her there, holding her from underneath.
“Don’t let me go!” She clung to his forearms, her nails digging into his skin.
“I won’t. Not until you’re ready.”
She folded in half and would have sank if he hadn’t held her up.
“Come on, try again.”
Although she did it, she stared up at him, looking worried the whole time.
“Take a deep breath.”
She did, and he could feel her body become more buoyant.
“I’m still holding you. Can you feel yourself floating a bit?”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, sounding amazed. “The sky is so blue here.” She bobbed upright and stood, pointing at the horizon. “It’s hard to say where the sky ends and the ocean begins.” A second later she shrieked and climbed up into his arms.
“What?”
“A jellyfish just tried to eat my toe!”
“Jellyfish don’t bite!” he said, carrying her toward shore. “Did something sting you?”
“Not exactly.” She shuddered. “But something touched my foot.”
Chuckling, he carried her under the pagoda and sat in a chair, settling her in his lap. He wrapped a towel around her, drying her off and checking her now-sandy toe for marks, although it was clear he wouldn’t find any. He remembered sitting here with his friends less than a year ago and showing them her picture, and bemoaning his fate. Now here she was on his lap, and he wouldn’t trade her for all of the girls in the world who were supposedly “his type.” Now his type was Varushka.
“You’re okay. Your toe is fine.”
“I know,” she murmured into his neck. “But I like sitting on your lap.”
“You’re trapped here with me. I’m far more likely to eat you than a shark is.”
She smiled at him shyly. “I might scream.”
“If you don’t, I’ll try harder.”
The girl blushed and pushed her face in his shoulder.
His heart felt light and floaty, like Varushka had felt in his arms in the ocean. “You make me happy, little bird.”
She smiled sunnily, her even teeth and dimples flashing at him. “Are you sure? You seemed cross with me in the house. You made me crawl on the floor.”