Shining Through

by Elizabeth Harmon

  She looked in the mirror, but she looked no different than she had three minutes ago. Her hair was loose and wavy. Her eyes smoky, her lips red and bold. She felt sexy and wild. So different from her controlled, cautious self. It was frightening and thrilling at the same time. The photo she’d sent to Samara was answered with an eye-pop cat emoji, thumbs-up and a cork shooting from a bottle of champagne.

  In the lobby, Daniil waited on a low gray sofa, under the glow of a bright yellow mid-century modern floor lamp. As she approached, he stood and Tabitha caught her breath at the sight of the drop-dead beautiful man standing before her. “Oh my gosh, you look.... amazing.”

  He wore a vintage charcoal gray suit with pinstripes and wide 1940’s style lapels. A black shirt, and red and silver wide necktie, completed the ensemble.

  “I chose it with you in mind.” He stepped forward and took her hand. She wanted to throw her arms around him and greet him with long, luscious kisses, but she couldn’t. Not in a lobby swarming with skating people, or with her alleged boyfriend Brett and their good buddy Sergei standing nearby. “I’d hoped you would stick around after the medal ceremony.”

  She’d stayed long enough to watch him receive his gold medal and then headed back to the hotel to get ready. “I didn’t want to take you away from your legion of fans. I knew I’d have you to myself later.”

  The hotel was in the Montparnasse neighborhood, south of the River Seine. To the west, the Eiffel Tower rose above the city. While that was their eventual destination, their first stop was the Luxembourg Gardens, a walled park that had once been the estate of Louis XIII’s widowed mother.

  The garden was divided in the center by a long promenade that extended from the Palais du Luxembourg. Between grassy lawns was an octagonal concrete basin surrounded by chairs and benches. Children played, artists sketched, tourists took pictures. Brett and Sergei went to explore the palace. She and Daniil walked the broad paths, lined with statues, and strewn with red and gold fallen leaves.

  Tabitha paused and closed her eyes. She breathed in the smells of decaying leaves and fall flowers, the sounds of the city and of cheerful voices speaking French. She wanted to remember every detail. Whatever came next, this would stand out as a time when she was happy and in love.

  Daniil touched her back, she turned and smiled. “Come with me,” he said. “There’s another place I want to show you.”

  They left the main promenade and followed a path to a shaded grotto. The rectangular fountain was in deep shade, but the blooming gold and magenta mums planted in the stone urns brought splashes of color. Water trickled down over a statue of two reclining lovers. “This is beautiful,” she said. “One of your discoveries from this week?”

  “I came here with my mother a long time ago. It’s one of my favorite places in Paris.”

  “I missed you,” she murmured. “I’ve been thinking about today for weeks and now that it’s here, it’s going so fast. I want to hold onto every minute.”

  There were people close by and she couldn’t risk anyone seeing them. She stepped to put distance between them, but even his light touch at the small of her back sent spirals of ecstasy racing through her body.

  They found Brett and Sergei and left the garden, taking Rue d’Assas north and west toward the Tower. They passed shops and cafes, and as they came to a door with a sign hanging above it, which read “Intemporel.” Daniil stopped. “Another place you’ll like.”

  The third floor shop was full of racks of vintage clothing, hats and accessories. It would have felt cramped if not for the soaring ceiling. Skylights let in the golden sunshine of late afternoon. “This was once an atelier where art students learned from a great painter,” Daniil said.

  By the door hung a black-and-white photograph of about a dozen young men, and one woman, sketching a model that stood on a platform in the middle of the room. Tabitha tried to imagine this place as it had been. The caption at the bottom read, “L’Atelier dû Pascal Jourdain, 1898.” “I’m not familiar with Pascal Jourdain,” she said.

  “I’m not either. Maybe he wasn’t so great,” Daniil said, with a grin. “But it’s where I found this.” He tugged at the lapel of his jacket. “Look around, you might find something you like.”

  As he, Brett and Sergei tried on hats, she browsed through racks of 1960s sheaths, and 1950s shirtwaists. Neither was quite what she wanted. Then she saw it. Filmy and floating, the pale yellow silk chiffon dress was splashed with bold accents of red and black. A saleswoman watched from across the room. “Would you like to try it on?”

  In the fitting room, she slipped into the romantic and glamourous dress, loving it’s silkiness against her skin. It hugged her frame as if tailored to fit. She stepped back into her tall red shoes, and turned to admire the gown’s low cut, yet elegant back. That was when she noticed the small black-and-white photo hanging on the wall behind her. Dated 1939, it showed a blond model in a striped summer dress, grasping the iron frame of the Eiffel Tower as she leaned out over the side.

  The photo brought a swirl of vertigo. Though Tabitha had no wish to do what the woman was doing, she envied the model’s fearlessness. Dangling over a precipice, she looked exhilarated and alive. If that woman had the courage to defy death and embrace life, couldn’t Tabitha find courage to go out on a limb of her own?

  Love came with risks. But living without risk hadn’t made Tabitha happy, just lonely and resentful. It was time to take a risk with her heart. And what better place than the world’s most passionate city?

  She stepped out of the dressing room, met by the admiring looks of Daniil, Brett and Sergei. The saleswoman smiled. “Shall I wrap it for you?”

  “No thank you. I’d like to wear it.”

  They left the shop, her clothes stashed into a shopping bag. Brett and Sergei wore mod 1960’s silk shirts and bellbottoms. Their next stop was the Eiffel Tower, where they took pictures looking like mid-twentieth century time travelers, before boarding the elevator to the top.

  Stiff wind ruffled Tabitha’s thin dress, as she came out onto the observation deck. It was cold enough to raise goosebumps on her skin, but she braved the wind, and stood on the walkway, her fingers clutching the crisscrossed bars that enclosed the platform. The park where they’d taken pictures stretched out like a green carpet. Daniil came and stood beside her.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?”

  He nodded, and then took her hand, moving away from the people waiting in line for the telescopes positioned along the railing. They walked around to the opposite side, past the glassed-in apartment where Gustave Eiffel had entertained guests high above the city. To the west, the sun was sinking low in the sky.

  Daniil stood beside her, his gaze intent on her face. “What you said, about how every minute passes too fast. That’s how I feel too. I want to remember everything, so I can go back to it once it’s over.”

  Over? She didn’t like hearing that word, especially now. But she’d had the same thought. He was obviously talking about next week when he was back in Russia and she was back in LA. Since they were alone, she leaned back against him. His cheek brushed her neck, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. His whisper tickled her ear. “The only thing more beautiful than you in that dress would be you out of it.”

  She drew in a breath. His possessive hold tightened. He stroked his other hand over her bare arm. Her skin tingled and her pulse raced. He’d said it. Now, she had to choose.

  Sex would change everything. There would be no turning back. But she didn’t want to weigh the pros and cons, the rights or wrongs. All she knew was that she’d fallen in love with Daniil Andreev, and she couldn’t deny it any longer.

  Nor did she want to, even if it ended in a devastating fall.

  She turned, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his. Her stomach fluttered, and desire stirred in her core. She broke the kiss and gazed into his eyes. “I want you to take it off me. Tonight, when we make love.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE<
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  THE CAB RIDE BACK FROM the Tower was sheer torment, especially since they’d had to make a stop at a nearby pharmacie. They’d slipped into the busy hotel unobserved through a side door, though the threat of discovery had stoked Tabitha’s fevered excitement to an almost unbearable level.

  Once they were behind closed doors, she couldn’t undress him fast enough.

  She pushed the jacket from his broad shoulders, and tore at the knot of his tie, all while devouring him with ravenous kisses.

  Daniil’s throat reverberated with a low-timbered laugh. “Why such hurry? I thought you wanted me to undress you.”

  He caught her wrists and pressed kisses into each of her palms. The tip of his tongue swirled against her skin, and a delicious tickle skipped along her nerves. “You’ll enjoy it more if we take it slow. We have all night.”

  All night. Tabitha sank into the sensation of his hands caressing her arms and shoulders. He released the delicate clasp at the back of her dress. The cool silk brushed her body as it slid down to pool at her feet. His strong hands followed, stroking her sides. He bracketed her hips, and admired her, clothed in just a demi-bra, filmy panties and red high heels. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “Beautiful.”

  Then he brought his hand to her face and brushed her lip with his fingertip. Feather light, he traced down over her chin and neck, across her breasts, circling each nipple. The muscles deep within her core quivered and clenched, as his finger traveled lower, across her belly to the sensitive place between her legs. When she sucked in a breath, he grinned and slipped his finger inside her panties. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

  She couldn’t wait for him to be inside her.

  He reached around to unfasten her bra. She pushed back her shoulders when her breasts bounced free. They weren’t large, but as he cupped and squeezed, her small mounds fit perfectly in his hands. Her nipples stood erect as he fondled them.

  He eased her down onto the bed, on her back and gently parted her legs. Her panties were drenched by the hot desire that gushed from her body. She hooked her fingers beneath the fabric, ready to rip them to shreds if that was what it took. But Daniil, still clothed, chuckled and pushed her hands away. “All in good time,” he said, planting a kiss in the middle of her stomach. “All in my time.”

  With one hand, he captured her wrists above her head, pinning them. With luxurious slowness, he kissed her lips, nuzzled her neck, and teased her nipples. She writhed as his tongue and mouth laved the delicate skin of her belly. He rubbed his thumb over the tiny nub of her clit, with just enough pressure to send shivers up her spine. When he eased one long finger deep into her vagina, Tabitha released an ecstatic moan. Her muscles clenched around him, responding to the intimate strokes that pushed her closer to the edge.

  Through fluttering eyelids, she caught his slanted smile as he toyed with the lacy waistband of her panties. “Should I? Or should I not?”

  “Oh God, yes,” she said through gritted teeth. “Right. This. Minute.”

  Chuckling, he pulled them off, and then positioned himself between her legs, and planted kisses along the inside of her thighs. He probed her hot folds again, this time with his tongue. Every inch of her body was alive with sensation, unlike any she’d ever known.

  “You’re so wet, so hot.” He murmured. “But still not ready.”

  Like hell!

  She gave a little cry of protest and grabbed the fabric of his shirt. Devouring his mouth with insistent kisses, she undid his silk tie, and then went to work on his shirt. She touched and kissed the colorful gallery on his arms, shoulders and torso. There was a storm cloud with a lightning bolt above his right pectoral. A Russian phrase inked beneath his rib cage. She wondered what all of it meant, and would definitely ask.

  Later.

  When she’d stripped away his shirt and dress pants, she pulled him down, digging her nails into his skin. Hot, drenched and ready, she moaned. “Now! Please!”

  “Are you begging for me?” He teased, and then peeled away his boxers, to free his large stiff cock. Tabitha’s eyes widened as she imagined it inside her. Daniil fished a condom from the package on the nightstand and sheathed himself. Then his face turned serious, and he cupped her cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.” In truth she didn’t know, but anticipated pain was almost always worse than the real thing. All she cared about was having his body joined to hers. She pushed her heels into the bed and lifted her hips, inviting him in.

  He straddled her and entered, allowing her to adjust to the pressure and stretching. Her back arched and she felt the first glimmer of pleasure, but to be truly satisfied, she needed him to thrust deeper. When she was ready, she looked into his eyes, and nodded.

  He did.

  “Oh!” The sudden sharp pain made her cry out and dig her nails into his shoulders. But his movements were as smooth and in control as when he skated. She moved with him, their bodies joined in a dance that sent heat from her center, melting pain into bliss. He whispered next to her ear. “Good?”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice raspy. “Feels so good.”

  She wrapped her legs wrapped around his waist, bucking her hips as he pushed into her softness. Her body was alive in a way it had never been before, she buried her face against his sweat-slick shoulder. A final thrust, smooth and deep, launched them together. She released a lusty cry as he filled her. Her chest rose and fell, overwhelming sensation coursed through every nerve. He cradled her as she drifted down through a gossamer haze of pleasure.

  Sated, they rested in each other’s arms, warm beneath the blankets. Her head lay against his shoulder, he stroked her breast. She snuggled closer and let go a throaty purr of pleasure. He grinned. “You are like a cat. Playful, but mysterious.”

  She made a teasing scowl. “Mysterious? That sounds like a bad thing.”

  “On no, not at all. It’s one thing I find fascinating about you. But it makes you hard to figure out sometimes.”

  She couldn’t argue that. Just as she did with everyone else, she let him see only some of who she was. But the fact she was laying naked beside him, proved she was becoming braver.

  “I’m not the one covered with art.” She lifted the blanket to study the Russian words marking his torso. “What’s this one say?”

  “Dokazat’ chto on neprav,” he said.

  She gave him a look. “English, please?”

  “It means ‘prove him wrong.’“

  “And you think I’m mysterious? That’s a very weird thing to have printed on your stomach. Who do you want to prove wrong?”

  Daniil kept his gaze fixed the ceiling and took long enough to answer, she wondered if he would. When he spoke, his voice was hollow. “My father. He once said I would never amount to anything, so it became my mission in life to prove him wrong.”

  She stared. Even Fiona, with all her crazy drama, was never cruel. It stunned her that a parent could say something like that to his own child. “That’s awful.”

  “I’ve put it behind me,” he said, though she wondered if it was true. He held out his forearm, with the car on a road, driving toward the rising sun. “See, here’s one that reminds me to always move forward toward something better.”

  “It takes a lot of courage to change your future,” she said, with a sigh as she settled back against him. “I wish we could speed up time. Then I’d know what my future held.”

  “If we sped up time, we’d lose this moment. But I wouldn’t mind a shorter wait until we’re together in St. Petersburg.”

  “You’ll be there?” With just a short time to prepare for the International Series Finals, and then Russian Nationals, she hadn’t expected him to be.

  “If you can fly to Paris to see me, I can take a train to Petersburg to see you.” He pulled her close. “I have an apartment there, where you and I can be alone.”

  She wondered why he had an apartment in a city where he didn’t live, but decided not to ruin the moment by asking. He�
�d changed a lot in his life. She hoped that soon, he would cut ties with the man who’d wounded him, yet still wielded so much power. She kissed him, long and deep. “I always skate better when I have a friend in the audience.”

  The words he’d said to her on the first night brought a smile. “Though maybe now, I am more than a friend?”

  He was, and he deserved to know. She’d taken one leap today, and it was time for an even bigger one—the emotional equivalent of launching herself off the Eiffel Tower.

  But what she felt for Daniil gave her courage. If she wanted to learn to trust him, he needed to know what was in her heart.

  “You are more than a friend. The truth is,” she swallowed her fear and stepped off into the unknown. “I love you.”

  She heard and felt him breathe sharply. His dark eyes sought hers, and in his intense gaze she watched stunned disbelief melt into unabashed joy. A smile spread like sunrise over his face and when he spoke, his voice held quiet wonder. “How much I have longed to hear you say that. Because I love you too, Tabitha.”

  He gathered her into his arms and reclaimed her mouth with a kiss that made her heart sing and her senses dance. This was what it meant to fly free.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  JEFF BECK’S GUITAR ECHOED THROUGH the deserted Beverly Ice Center, transporting Tabitha four days and two continents away. By this time Saturday, the St. Petersburg competition would be over, and she would be with Daniil.

  Maybe they would go out to a place where they could hear hot blues like this. Was there such a place in Russia? If not, they might go to a rock club, as they’d done in Chicago. Or maybe, they’d stay in and make sweet music of their own.

  “I put a spell on you... because, you’re mine...”

  She’d left Paris a changed woman. In the three weeks since, she realized that making love to Daniil and admitting their love for each other had altered every part of her life.

  As much as she’d tried to deny it, somewhere deep within, a wild-child had longed to break free. To the rest of the world she was the prim and proper Ice Queen, but Daniil saw her as sensual, creative and passionate. Falling in love with him, and knowing he loved her, made her eager to embrace this new part of herself.