"Cyan?"
Matteo's voice dragged me back. He was looking at me through the bright sunlight, his brows furrowed, his head tilted in slight confusion at how long I had been staring into nothingness.
The perfect, bright smile returned to my face before he could even blink. It was seamless, flawless, a polished mask that snapped into place so quickly you'd think it had never left.
I dropped the brush back into the jar of water and stood up, smoothing down the front of my silk robe.
"Oh, sweetheart," I said, my voice dripping with theatrical brightness as I sashayed across the stone floor toward him. "You have just committed today's absolute worst social blunder."
Matteo blinked, his hand tightening on the cowboy hat. "What? What did I do?"
I reached out, placing one paint-stained finger under his chin and tilting his face up toward mine. I looked down at him with an expression of immense, mock gravity.
