HOT ICE: Complete Sporting Romance Series

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HOT ICE: Complete Sporting Romance Series Page 110

by Lily Harlem


  “Oh, no. I must call her. Poor Harmony.”

  “Yep, she won’t be eating shrimp with hockey players again, that’s for sure. What the hell was she thinking?”

  “Mmm. Dunno.”

  “So…” She paused. “I’m looking now. The earliest we can get you back to Orlando on a deadhead is…”

  I held my breath. “I don’t need a fancy seat, one in the village will do.”

  “Mmm…” Nicola said. “Struggling here.”

  “I can work my way back. I’m happy to throw in an extra shift, doesn’t need to be a deadhead.”

  “No, your opposite crew is fully staffed, you’ll have to take a seat.”

  Fuck.

  “I can’t see anything for the next five flights.” She hesitated. “Yes, that could work, six days, the nineteenth, and it’s premium class.”

  “What? Really? By the time I get back my week vacation will be over.”

  “I’m so sorry, Samantha.” She sounded it, too.

  Much as I wanted to have a hissy fit about the loss of annual leave I knew it was all my own doing. “Are you sure there’s nothing sooner?”

  “No, not unless you’re willing to pay.”

  I groaned and thought about the money I’d saved for shopping and my new lease and my already swollen credit card balance. I couldn’t justify spending the cash or increasing my debt.

  “I’m really sorry,” Nicola said again. “Of course you can use the room in the airport hotel for the week. We’ve got plenty on reserve there, I’ll sign it off for you.”

  “Thanks.” I tried to sound appreciative. And I was. The last thing I needed right now was a hotel bill added to the equation. “Can you let Patrick know I’m okay? I’ll call him later, when he’s landed.”

  “Sure, I’ll get a message to the flight.”

  “Thanks…and I’m sorry, really I am.”

  “Samantha, chill out. You’ve been an exemplary employee for over six years. You’re one of our most experienced and valued members of the team, you are allowed to slip up on occasion. No one is perfect.”

  Again I felt my eyes sting. “Thanks for being so nice.”

  “I wish I could get you back sooner. If anything changes I’ll call.”

  “Okay.”

  “So go now and click your phone off silent, for God’s sake.”

  I laughed, but without humor. “Yeah, I will.”

  “Your ticket will be at the desk on the nineteenth.”

  “Perfect.”

  “And find something nice to do. Moscow is a great city, full of culture. Catch a ballet or visit a museum.”

  “I might just do that.”

  Nicola hung up and I tossed my phone onto the pillow, stood and walked to the window.

  I could hear the shower blasting in the bathroom and the scent of shower gel, woody and strong, drifted toward me. I stared at the higgledy-piggledy tiled rooftops. They were aching with the weight of a new fall of snow. Crystalized sparkles caught the weak sun, winking at me as I scanned the unfamiliar suburban landscape.

  Damn it. What the hell was I going to do for a week here?

  I spotted a neatly folded toweling robe and pulled it around myself, suddenly feeling chilly. A grunt from the bathroom caught my attention as I yanked the belt into a knot at my waist.

  The door was open a fraction and I wandered over and peeked into the steamy room.

  The glass shower cubicle was directly in front of me. Through the drip-coated surround I could make out Vadmir standing in the hot, swirling mist. He couldn’t see me, his back was turned, one hand flat on the black wall tiles and the other at his groin.

  His right shoulder was shifting and the taut muscles of his back rippling. His butt was clenched, the dips at the side enhancing their neat smooth shape. He was rocking, ever so slightly, backward and forward.

  I squeezed my lips together, touched the doorframe to steady myself and held my breath.

  He was doing exactly what he’d said he do—finishing himself off.

  I should go, move. This wasn’t for me to watch but I couldn’t help myself. I was mesmerized. The sight of him in this private moment totally captivated me.

  He grunted again and raised his head to the fall of water. It clung in his short hair, trailed down his nape and into the gutter of his spine in a long, sleek rivulet. I licked my lips, remembering running my tongue up that very section of his body on our first night together.

  His speed increased.

  I blew out a breath and then pulled it back in, my chest expanding, my heart racing.

  “Ahh…” he said, the sound echoing and loud. “Ahh…dah.”

  He came. His knees weakening for a second before he braced them and locked his legs straight. The tense muscles in his back trembled and his butt clenched tighter.

  Quickly I stepped away. Guilt at my voyeurism suddenly washing through me. But excitement also tweaked at my nerves. Damn, what a treat to witness a man so comfortable and in total control of his sexual needs pleasuring himself. He couldn’t have been that worried about being watched, not if he’d left the door ajar.

  Mmm, maybe the day hadn’t started out quite so badly after all.

  Chapter Ten

  Vadmir emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later. He’d wrapped a white towel around his waist and was scrubbing at his hair with another. His cheeks were a little flushed and moisture clung to the center of his chest.

  “Did you order coffee?” he asked.

  “Yes, and fruit, I hope that’s okay.”

  He smiled. “Yes. Good.”

  I stood and went to the window again. The sky was bloated with dark gray clouds and fat snowflakes were beginning to fall. The weak sunshine of minutes ago was now a distant memory.

  He walked up behind me and wrapped his thick, hot arms around my waist.

  I leaned back into him, enjoying the support and strength his body provided.

  “How was the call?” he asked quietly against my temple.

  I sighed. “They were really nice about it, understanding, but even so I’m stuck here.”

  “Stuck?”

  “Yes, until the nineteenth. Nearly a week.”

  He pressed a kiss to my head, over my hair, and squeezed me a little closer.

  I was surprised at how right the gesture felt. It was the first non-sexual contact we’d had; just a kiss, a touch of lips, an act of comfort.

  “So what are you going to do?” he asked.

  “I’ve got a free room at the airport hotel. Not very exciting but I can’t exactly sleep on the streets.”

  “No, not sensible.” He lifted his head and I sensed him looking out at the falling snow. “Too cold.”

  “I guess I’ll visit a couple of museums, catch up on a few books I was meaning to read. Just hang out.” I paused. “Shame really, I was supposed to be having fun in Miami with Harmony. Sun, sea and shopping.”

  “And now you have snow instead of sunshine.”

  “Seems that way.”

  We were silent for a moment. I watched the snow billowing against the window. Several flakes hit the pane and slid fatly to the sill.

  “Come with me,” he murmured against my ear.

  “What?” I tried to turn but he held me tight, so I was still facing the wintery weather.

  “Come with me. I’m going north. After my meeting this morning I’m driving to see my family.”

  “No, I can’t.” What a crazy idea.

  “Why not?”

  “Because you don’t want me hanging around when you’re with your family.” I tutted and shook my head.

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

  I twisted within his arms again and this time he allowed me to turn and face him. I looked up into his dazzling blue eyes. There were still a few drips from the shower on his long lashes.

  “Really?” I said hesitantly. “But weren’t we supposed to be—?”

  He grinned. “A one-night stand?”

 
“Well, yes.”

  “Fate has thrown us together for longer.” He slid his hand up my back, over the top of the thick robe and ran his fingers into my hair. “Say yes, Sammy. It will be fun. I’ve got some things I must attend to but then I will show you the sights. It is a beautiful part of the country.”

  “But your family?”

  “It will be okay. They moved not long ago. They have plenty of room now. Plus, my sister will adore you. She is obsessed with all things America and will drive you crazy practicing her English on you.”

  I hesitated and studied his freshly shaven face. He had a tiny cut to the right of his lip.

  “I don’t know,” I said, stepping away and reaching a tissue from the dresser. I dabbed at the cut.

  “Why are you not saying yes? It is the perfect solution.”

  I glanced at my thin coat and my clothes still lying abandoned on the hotel room floor. “I haven’t exactly packed for Siberia.”

  He laughed. “It is not Siberia. Heaven help me if I lived there.” He shrugged. “And clothes is a minor problem.”

  I frowned. Clothes were never a minor problem.

  “Listen,” he said. “If you say you’ll come with me I’ll organize a new winter wardrobe for you. How does that sound?”

  “But why would you do that?” I was disbelieving.

  “You don’t know?”

  I shook my head.

  “I like you, Sammy. I want to spend more time with you. And if not having a warm coat and decent boots is the bug in the milk that’s stopping you coming with me then I will make it right.”

  “Bug in the milk?”

  His brow furrowed. “Cream… no… ointment. Bug in the ointment.”

  I grinned. “The fly in the ointment.”

  “That is what I said.” His frown switched to a smile, his eyes sparkling and the hard lines of his jaw softening.

  I couldn’t deny I liked him, too. More than I thought I would when I’d first met him and his athletic body had pulled me to him like a magnet. But that smile, his gentle giant ways and muddled up sayings were drawing me in.

  “Okay, I’ll come with you.”

  His face cracked into an even wider smile. “Great.”

  “But no fur. I don’t wear fur.”

  “Really?” He looked surprised.

  “No. Not my thing.”

  He suddenly snagged me close, planted a hot, fast kiss on my lips and then said, “Deal, you wait here and I’ll have everything you need delivered. We’ll leave at noon.”

  As quickly as he’d grabbed me, he released me.

  I felt a little dizzy with the sudden decision and the acceptance of a new “winter wardrobe.” I sat heavily on the bed and watched as he dressed, dragged on a huge black coat and then his green cap.

  He grabbed a keycard from the side and then stopped with his hand on the door handle.

  “What shoe size?”

  “Thirty-eight.”

  “Dress?”

  “Four.”

  He grinned, cheekily, and cupped one hand over his chest. “Here?”

  “Seriously?”

  “I owe you underwear.”

  I laughed. “Okay, thirty-two E.”

  “Got it.” He nodded. “Be ready, okay.”

  Before I could answer he’d gone and I was left staring at the Russian language “Do Not Disturb” sign as it swung left to right on the handle.

  I breakfasted on a fruit platter and two cups of black coffee. I’d just surfaced from a deep bubble bath and pulled the robe back around myself when there was a sharp bang on the hotel room door.

  “Hang on,” I said, twisting a towel around my hair, turban-style and slipping my feet into the complimentary slippers.

  I answered the knock and found the pretty female receptionist from yesterday smiling at me.

  “Ms Headington,” she said, gesturing to a porter standing just behind her. “We have been instructed by Mr. Arefyev to deliver clothing suitable for winter weather.”

  “Well, er…thank you.” I eyed the tall silver trolley the bellhop was holding. It was bulging with a plethora of clothing, the front item looked suspiciously like a long fur coat.

  “May I come in?” she asked, stepping in anyway.

  “Mmm, yes, do…” I moved aside.

  The porter wheeled the clothes in and then retreated.

  She spoke to him in Russian and then shut the door, turned to me and smiled again.

  “I hope this selection will suit your needs. I’m afraid it was a rather limited time-scale that I was given but I have managed to find all the essentials in your size.”

  “Thanks.” The clothes appeared to be ranked in order of warmest. With the rich-chocolate, furry coat at one end and at the other several tiny bra and panty sets in an assortment of pastel colors and one in rich scarlet.

  “This,” she said, reaching for the coat. “Is an essential.”

  “It’s very nice of you to do this,” I said, pressing my palms together and taking a step back. “But I don’t wear fur.”

  She tipped her head forward, her sleek hair sliding fluid-like to her shoulder. “I am well aware of that, Mr. Arefyev was most specific. But this…” She paused and stroked her hand down the soft lapel. “Is finest quality imitation. No animal has ever been near it.” She held it forward. “Feel, it is wonderful.”

  I eyed it suspiciously. “Are you sure?”

  She smiled. “Yes, more and more people are demanding this, it means for excellent products.”

  I stepped closer and touched the coat. It was so soft if was like touching air, the brown hued-strands barely tickling over my fingers.

  “Would you like to try it on?”

  “Well, yes, I suppose.” It was certainly better than the thin navy coat I’d brought with me on what I’d thought was going to be a very brief overnight stay in Moscow. “But.” I hesitated, I was naked beneath the robe.

  “Ah,” she said, placing the coat on the bed and then reaching for the scarlet bra and panty set. “He said you would need dressing from the bottom up.”

  “He was right. I have only the clothes I arrived here in last night.”

  “That is not a problem any longer. Here.” She passed me the underwear. “Go, I think you will approve.”

  I took the hanger and went into the bathroom that still held the scents of the vanilla bubble bath I’d taken.

  A label hung from the hanger—Agent Provocateur. Oh, boy, was I a lucky girl. I adored AP lingerie but had only ever owned a few pieces.

  Quickly I hung the robe on a hook on the back of the door, and slid into the panties and bra. They fit like a dream, the intricate lace as delicate as silk on my skin and the bra-straps a pretty shade lighter than the cups.

  I stuck my head around the door, a smile creeping across my face. “Perfect,” I said.

  She nodded, as though she knew they would be. “And these.” She passed in a pair of black pants and a sweater as red as the underwear.

  “Thanks.” I took them. Shut the door and checked out the labels. Dior trousers and a Dior sweater. A small bead of sweat popped on my temple. I could guess how much these had cost. I’d admired Dior for many years and had treated myself to a few staple pieces. I slipped the pants on, praying they’d fit.

  They did, hugging my curves in all the right places and fitting my waist perfectly. I removed the towel from my head and pulled the sweater on. It fit the same, the material warm and caressing against my skin, almost like wearing a cloud.

  I moved from the bathroom and held my hands out, palms up, in a what-do-you-think gesture.

  “Yes, very good,” she said, smiling. “Now the coat.” She held it forward and I slipped my arms in.

  “Oh, this is nice.” I buttoned it and tightened the belt at my waist. It hit just below my knees and came right up around my neck.

  “You like?”

  “Oh, yes.” I smoothed my hands down it and moved to the full-length mirror. “It’s beautiful.”
>
  “Indeed. And just what you will need if you are staying in Russia for a few days. It is not sun-bathing weather here.”

  “Definitely not.”

  “But there is more,” she said. “Boots.” She handed me a pair of thick black socks and then rummaged in a box.

  I sat on the edge of the bed and tugged the socks on. Like everything else they were beautiful quality.

  “Here,” she said. “You will need these for snow and ice.” She held aloft a pair of black boots that had an intricate lace detail holding in the slightly padded exterior. They looked both trendy and practical.

  “Oh, I like,” I said, reaching for them then putting them on. “And, yes they fit, too.” I pushed my damp hair over the collar of the coat. “It all fits so well. How did you manage it?”

  “I was given very precise instructions. I was to leave nothing to chance.” She straightened, walked toward me and placed a hat on my head.

  It matched the coat and when I glanced in the mirror I saw that it was Cossack style.

  “These are all the rage at the moment,” she said. “And not just in Russia.”

  A giggle burst up from my chest. “I love it. Really I do.”

  “You are very easy to dress.”

  “Well it’s not hard with all of this to choose from.”

  “So you are pleased with my selections?’

  “Yes, very.”

  “Good. I have you something else.” From the base of the trolley she pulled a brown leather holdall. “I took the liberty of adding a toiletry case, Clarins, to this luggage bag. I trust that will be okay. If not, I can change it.”

  “No that’s perfect, and thank you.”

  “It should all fit in here. Would you like me to pack for you?” She gestured toward the rail which still held several jumpers and more pants, plus what looked like a small, black nightdress.

  “Pack?”

  “Yes.”

  “All of it?” She must be mistaken. Surely it was just for me to choose from? Pick a selection. I couldn’t possibly take all of it.

  “Yes, all of it. Unless.” She paused and looked worried. “There is something you don’t like. I probably have time to exchange it for you.”

 

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