by AK Leigh
An urge to go over to her and ask if she needed anything washed over him. He made himself stay where he was. Her life was not his business and he needed to keep his distance so he didn’t give in to his feelings again and ruin his life.
He stepped from the café.
When he was almost at his dorm, muted conversation made him pause. He turned his head in the direction it was coming. Coach Trusseau and his wife, Evangeline, were out the front of Marcel’s dorm. The body language and expression on their faces told Andrei the couple were arguing. Though they were speaking in French, a language he knew only the basics of, he did catch the name ‘Nina’.
Oh-oh.
Before he could think more on it, Marcel glanced up and saw him. The coach gave him a tight-lipped smile then directed his wife back inside the dorm.
His gut tightened. Intuition told him this was not going to be good for Nina. Surely, they wouldn’t kick her off the team. It was true that her actions could be dealt with under the strict conduct code, but would Marcel really go that far? He’d seemed fine about it.
But his wife most certainly did not.
Great.
What should he do?
His first instinct was to warn Nina so she could do some damage control. He forced the impulse away. You have to stop this foolishness when it comes to Nina.
The weapons, the terrorist, the medal. Those were his goals. After stepping inside his dorm, he found the list of suspects and scoured it for names he could cross off. When thoughts of his former love threatened to come, he absently switched on the television to offer some white-noise distraction.
He caught the tail end of a broadcast, ‘… which would explain her sudden entry into the games.’
The breath in his chest hardened as he peered back at the screen. A picture of himself and Nina flashed up on the screen a second before the report went to another topic. He recognised the picture. He’d made a joke about Russians and snow and she’d laughed as though it was the most hysterical thing she’d ever heard. Her laugh had tugged at his heart. He’d been unable to stop himself from kissing her.
He shook the recollection free and surfed the channels for something other than the news. He stopped at a kids’ show. Perfect. Then he returned his attention to the lists.
Chapter 21
Her sisters were sitting on the small sofa in her dorm later that day, looking at their phones while Nina washed up the dishes from the lunch they’d just had.
Carrie suddenly placed her phone on the coffee table in front and stretched out her hand toward Nina. ‘Don’t ask questions. Give me your phone.’
‘Why? What’s happened?’
‘I said not to ask questions.’
Lizzie glanced down at her phone and bit her bottom lip. ‘I think you should give her your phone.’
Nina crossed her arms. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing you need to worry about right now.’
‘Carrie, you know I’m not going to hand over my phone without an explanation. In fact …’
She dried her hands on the tea towel attached to the wall oven, yanked up her phone from the kitchenette’s counter, and loaded up her main page—The North Queenslander website.
Carrie frowned, ‘I told you not to do that.’
‘I want to know what’s going on. You don’t need to protect me.’ That was her job as the big sister. She peered back down at her phone, and felt her eyes bulge when she saw the news headline that her sisters had obviously been trying to stop her from seeing.
‘Long Lost Love Revealed: The Truth behind Nina Farris’s sudden return to the Olympics.’
She sighed. To think she’d been naïve enough to think that by holding a press conference, the gossip would stop.
She skimmed the article: ‘According to sources, the couple met while competing together in the biathlon at the Russian Olympics eight years ago.’
Wrong. We met in the shuttle bus on the way to the Olympic Village.
He’d flown in from his hometown, and she’d just arrived from her stopover in Japan.
She continued reading: ‘The couple were inseparable for the three weeks they were together in Russia.’
That part was true. Sometimes the media stumbled across a slither now and again.
‘None of our sources were able to give us a reason for their separation after the games. By all accounts, the couple were deeply in love …’
She screwed up her nose. Those accounts were wrong. She’d been deeply in love. He’d been a lying dirtbag who’d used her for the thrill of a casual fling. His words replayed in her mind: I don’t love you.
She shook the memory free, along with the accompanying burn in her heart, and read the final line: ‘Is Nina hoping to pick up where they left off?’
‘Oh, for crying out loud. Really?’
A hand reached out and clasped hers. ‘That’s why I told you not to read it.’
She looked up at Carrie and nodded, ‘Thanks. But it’s okay. It’s just tabloid fodder. The real reason is still secure. If people believe this drivel, it helps us.’
She focused back on her phone’s screen. With the article was an old photo. While she stared at it, an ache pierced her heart. Andrei was staring into her eyes, in that way that made her feel like she was going to melt to nothing. She was laughing. He must have said something funny. He did have a good sense of humour. Well, he had when she’d known him. He seemed different now. More serious and world-worn.
Much like me.
She frowned at the thought, shut down the internet window, and flicked off her phone. The real motive was safe and that was the only thing that mattered. Let people talk.
She looked at her sisters and faked an easy smile. ‘It’s okay. They can report whatever they like, so long as it’s not the truth.’
Carrie said, ‘Just so you know, there’s a trending hashtag.’
Nina rolled her eyes. ‘Brilliant. What is it?’
‘Hashtag-Nina-and-Andrei-forever.’
‘Oh, lord. Are people really this unimaginative?’
‘Unfortunately, yes.’
Nina wrinkled her mouth, then admitted, ‘He didn’t approach me today.’
Lizzie smiled, ‘Give him time. He will.’
Carrie nodded, ‘Yeah, I’d wager he’s brooding over Marcel.’
‘Which kind of helps your plan. The jealousy will eventually become motivation to see you.’
Nina waved a hand in front of her, not wanting to talk about it anymore. Andrei wasn’t jealous. He didn’t care about her. That’s why he hadn’t come up to her. ‘All right, we’ve been distracted by this long enough. Let’s get back to the case. Lizzie, do you have anything new?’
‘Yes. I went through the profile again, and I’m certain we’re looking at a Chinese suspect.’
‘So we can make the Chinese competitors our focus then?’
‘Yes.’
Carrie nodded her agreement. ‘You’ll have to let the AFP know.’
‘I will. Then the next step is getting friendly with the candidates once I arrive.’ Which would be relatively easy because she was friends with most of them. The hard part would be spying on them. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity. She was angry at Andrei for being a spy, yet she was about to do the same thing. She changed the subject, ‘Where is forensics at?’
‘I have the list of possible locations and types of bombs used. Other than that, we need to wait until you get to China before I can do much more. What have you got?’
‘Well, the Chinese officials will throw me out if they get even a whiff that I’m investigating, so the plan is basically to cosy up to the targets and snoop. That, and stop any bombs from going off.’
Lizzie frowned. ‘Sounds simple.’
Carrie grunted, ‘Yeah. Are you sure about this, Nina?’
‘Hey, we can do this. It might be the first time we’ve worked undercover together, and we will make mistakes like we did with Mum and Dad’s case, but we can do this. Can�
�t we?’
Carrie said, ‘Hell, yeah, we can.’
Lizzie grinned. ‘We can.’
Chapter 22
Later that afternoon, Coach Trusseau frowned as he peered in turn at Andrei then his other three mixed relay teammates. ‘You need to do better.’
It was true. Their first attempt at team training had … sucked. And it was mostly due to himself and Nina not blending well with each other. It had been his fault. He’d been trying to keep her at a distance. He wasn’t certain what her motives had been. Probably the same old reason: anger. He had interfered in her life again, hadn’t he?
As the thought came, Coach Trusseau narrowed his gaze in on Andrei, and said, ‘Can I talk to you, Strasinski?’
‘Sure, Coach.’
Marcel looked away and added, ‘You too, Farris.’
Oh-oh. The coach was really cranky at them if he was calling Nina by her last name too.
‘Yes, Marcel.’
Something caught Andrei’s attention from the corner of his eye. He glanced behind Marcel and noted the glare aimed at Nina by the woman who had been introduced to the team as Evangeline. Marcel’s wife. The woman hadn’t come to any other sessions.
There was only one reason he could think of that she would be here now. She’d obviously been told about what had happened with Nina making a pass at her husband and was there to make sure it didn’t happen again.
Oliver and Amber hopped up and walked away.
Andrei rose from his position on the bench and saw Nina do the same.
Marcel’s tone was stern when he spoke, ‘Sort out whatever the hell you two need to sort out. It’s starting to interfere with the team.’ Andrei attempted to respond, but Marcel cut him off, ‘I don’t want to hear excuses, just fix it. You weren’t working as a team out there. You need to learn how to separate your personal and professional lives if you want to win a medal. Which I’m hoping you do!’
Andrei bit his lip so he didn’t point out that it hadn’t been their decision to compete in the event. The coach had volunteered all of them for it.
‘Am I clear?’
‘Yes, Coach.’ Nina had answered with him.
‘Bon.’
With that, Marcel turned on his heels and walked towards his wife. When he reached her, he held his hand out to her. Evangeline took it. As she did, she threw a look of scorn at Nina.
‘I guess I deserved that.’
Andrei looked over. Nina was focused on the couple, clear regret on her features. He shrugged, ‘We all make mistakes, Nina.’
She turned to face him and nodded.
They fell into an awkward silence.
He broke it by saying, ‘I know it’s hard for you, having me here.’ It’s hard for me having you here too. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t do anything about that. The only thing I can do is try and make it easier for you. So tell me, what do you need me to do?’
He saw her eyes shimmer with something he couldn’t read. Her gaze scoured his face, as if she was seeking the answer to his question there.
‘I mean it, Nina. Tell me what to do.’
After another pause, she said, ‘How about we go somewhere and chat?’
‘I think the cafete—’
She cut in, ‘I can’t take another day of cafeteria coffee. I’m surprised you can.’
He grinned, ‘Where do you suggest?’
She thought for a moment then said, ‘There’s a Russian coffee house close to the water. They make delicious Tula gingerbread.’
Mm. Tula gingerbread.
It had been too long since he’d had some of his motherland’s traditional sweet.
She added, ‘But it’s a little pricey … and classy.’
He glanced down at his outfit and back up as he replied, ‘In other words, we can’t go in our snowsuits.’
She smiled, ‘Exactly. Do you have something clean and presentable to wear? Doesn’t have to be a suit. Smart casual is fine.’
‘I can find something.’
‘Great. Let’s get changed and we can meet each other back here.’
He nodded as they walked from the training room together.
As they walked in the direction of the dorms, Nina said, ‘You didn’t tell me you were living at The Snow Globe.’
‘I didn’t think you’d want to know.’
She gave him a conceding nod. In the pause that passed between them, he saw a spark of recognition in her features. She’d just figured something out. Oh-oh.
His suspicion was confirmed when she peered over at him and asked, ‘Did you ever see me training?’
‘I did.’
‘Why didn’t you …’ She trailed off. Clearly, she’d answered the question he was sure she’d been about to ask. Why didn’t you approach me?
He replied anyway, ‘I knew you wouldn’t react well to seeing me.’
She nodded, but said nothing. It was the truth and they both knew it. They walked the rest of the way to their dorms in silence.
* * *
A short time later, Nina stepped from her dorm room dressed in navy-blue pants, a button-up blouse with navy-blue and white stripes, and red ballet flats. She’d added a bunch of gold bangles to one wrist and a simple gold necklace with a love-heart locket around her neck to dress the outfit up.
She entered the training room and spotted Andrei, leaning against a wall. As she proceeded towards him, she did a quick scan. He was wearing black pants, a maroon-coloured button-down shirt, and shiny black shoes. His hair had been brushed into a neat style.
She couldn’t help the smile that came at the effort he’d made.
He saw her, smiled, and made his way to her. ‘You ready?’
‘Yep.’
They walked out of the training room in silence. In the reception area, Andrei said, ‘How do you know about this special Russian coffee place?’
She shot him a look. Did he mean something by the comment? The expression on his face didn’t seem to indicate that. He seemed to be making polite conversation.
She shrugged, ‘I’ve tried out a lot of places, and it’s the best coffee in Cairns, if you ask me. But don’t tell Lizzie that.’
He laughed, ‘I won’t.’
He stopped at the entry door and opened it for her. She nodded her thanks and walked outside. Then he was at her side. Too close. She remembered her rule about keeping physical distance and stepped away.
His eyebrow lifted in clear acknowledgment of what she’d done, but he made no comment. Instead, he said, ‘I can drive us.’
‘Oh no. That’s okay.’
She recalled too well how their ‘drives’ had ended in the past: pleasure-filled and sweat-soaked.
A look of recognition crossed his features. He understood her refusal. Instead of trying to talk her out of it, he nodded, ‘All right. I’ll follow you then.’
‘Okay.’
As they walked to the car park, another memory came back. One of the reasons she’d fallen in love with Andrei was the fact that he’d always respected her decisions. He’d never tried to force, coerce, or guilt her into changing her view on anything. So many men she’d met before, and since, seemed to always need things their way. Or for her to believe whatever they believed. Or do what they wanted. Andrei had never been pushy or overly assertive with her. Seemed that hadn’t changed.
She smiled at the realisation.
‘Everything okay?’
‘Oh.’ She glanced at him and shook her head, ‘Yes, fine.’
He aimed a look at her, showing he knew she was lying. But he let it go. He’d learned early on in their relationship that she wouldn’t react well if he called her out. Seemed he’d remembered.
That made her smile again.
* * *
They were seated in a private booth at the Russian coffee house, waiting for the coffee and Tula gingerbread they’d ordered. Aside from polite small talk, they hadn’t really spoken.
Nina stared out the window next to their booth. Her hair was loose,
flowing down past her shoulders. The cleft in her chin that physically differentiated her from her sisters wasn’t visible with her face angled away. She looked deep in thought. Beautiful. He couldn’t help staring at her as though it were the first time. Or the way he’d been staring at her in the photo they’d shown on the news the night before.
Had she seen it?
Had she seen the truth of his love for her in it?
A love based on lies.
With that thought, an inexplicable urge overwhelmed him. The confession of his past crimes flew to the edge of his tongue. He wanted to tell her about his life, his job, why he’d really entered her life eight years ago.
He wanted her to know he’d truly loved her back then … and still did.
But he couldn’t.
She would hate him even more than she did, his fond memories would be ruined, and he would be imprisoned. And a jail in Siberia was not exactly his idea of a perfect future.
My idea of a perfect future includes Nina.
He swallowed hard. It was an impossible future. When was his heart going to accept that? There was no place for him outside of the FSB.
Pulling him from the thought, a waiter appeared at their side, and placed two coffees and a plate of stamped, chocolate-coated biscuits on their table. Andrei said something to the man in Russian, which made the waiter smile, and say something back.
Nina turned and said to the waiter, ‘Thank you.’
The waiter nodded. In accented English, he replied, ‘You’re welcome, Miss Carrie.’
She didn’t bother to correct the man before he left.
‘That must get annoying.’
Nina glanced up and shrugged, ‘You get used to it. It’s the stupid jokes and sexual innuendos that irritate me.’
He didn’t need to ask what she meant. He’d witnessed it plenty in the four weeks they’d been together in Russia. When the other men on the Russian team had discovered they were dating, the sick comments had resulted in him getting into more than one fistfight.
He clenched and unclenched his fist with the recollections and nodded, ‘I remember.’
An odd expression appeared on her face. Not displeasure at the fact that he remembered, but not satisfaction either. Something in between. Resignation?