Kate Peterson may have had a little something to do with his disinclination. The possibility of running into her had been hiding in the dark recesses of his mind, peeking out every so often. Still, he hadn’t expected her presence to be so efficient at disarming his jovial, if not a bit rakish, demeanor. He hated that a woman he hadn’t given more than a passing thought to in years still delivered this kind of effect.
Alexei had lingered inside the skating arena long after she’d come and gone—nearly ten minutes. Finally, he leveled his shoulders and adjusted his posture, shaking off the weakness before strolling outside and heading toward the busy fairway.
Entranced by the snow-covered ice crystals clinging to bare branches, the icicles glistened in the sunlight and reminded him of Russia. Alexei’s home was Florida now, which rarely offered winter scenery. Except at the mall. Alexei didn’t do the mall.
With each step, he left shoeprints in the light dusting of snow on the sidewalk. A brisk wind whipped across his face and he turned, catching sight of the outdoor rink.
A group of amateur skaters, all bitten by the Olympics bug, strutted their stuff on the ice. He stopped to watch, favoring any distraction to the thoughts nagging him about Kate Peterson.
It wasn’t a case of old feelings resurfacing, Alexei had closed that chapter long ago. He no longer cared where she’d been or why she’d chosen this particular occasion to resurface. Or, why she’d lied.
Well, that wasn’t necessarily true. Now that he’d seen her again, he was curious about the lie. He didn’t like it, but he did wonder. She said she’d write.
She never did.
Her disappearing act had puzzled him back then, but not nearly as much as her odd behavior this afternoon. Something about her was off. Tonight, he’d find out what.
Alexei folded his arms over the outdoor rink’s railing and scanned the growing crowd on the ice. Sometimes he enjoyed standing on the sidelines like this, watching people skate just for fun. Competition had a way of spoiling that. Of all the skaters, a little girl showed the most promise. Guessing, he figured her for about six or seven. She weaved and twirled into a perfected spin.
Ah, a future Olympic hopeful. To skate as well as she did, she must’ve been at it a long time. She didn’t appear jaded though. Perhaps she’d never competed. Probably not. She still had that “this is fun” air bubbling over in her laughter.
She didn’t resemble the woman with her. Perhaps she was a replica of her father. Alexei studied the mother-daughter duo, familiarity seeping into his senses. The woman’s coffee-colored tresses were nothing like the youngster’s golden-brown hair, which reminded him of his own.
“Angeline, watch this.” The child squealed and soared over the ice with one leg in the air.
Angeline...stepmother perhaps? No. He didn’t know why, but he decided the woman was a caregiver.
“Please be careful, Katya. You’re mother will kill me if you hurt yourself.”
Katya. The name caught him off-guard. He didn’t hear it often in the States. Understandably. Intrigue prompted his curiosity. How had her parents come by the name?
A brief connotation crossed his mind. What were the chances of him talking the mother of his future children into naming a daughter Katya? Eighty-twenty? Like that’s ever going to happen. Okay, seventy-thirty.
Humph. Cynicism conquered his thoughts. Children were doubtful. Not out of the question. Just doubtful. He’d never allowed the bed-sheets to warm beneath any woman, not since Kate Peterson. A fleeting, speculative inquiry hit him, and he wondered if he’d ever fathered any children.
Not that he was careless. Accidents happen. Condoms break. Just like hearts.
Memories swamped him, kicked him in the gut and hauled him back to the day his coaches had dragged him out of Kate’s hotel room. Recollections he’d just as soon forget emerged. The hurt in her eyes. The look on her face. The tears on her cheeks.
Crocodile tears, he’d come to learn when he returned to the United States nearly a year later only to find Kate Peterson had disappeared.
She’d found a way to get past it. She must have. There was nothing in her eyes today. No sorrow. No regret. Her eyes were void of everything. Even recognition. Her ability to cast him aside like yesterday’s trash belted his ego.
Kate wasn’t the reason he’d come to Squaw Valley, but she was the reason he’d grow to regret the trip. Why had he let Brent talk him into this? It wasn’t like he got all warm and fuzzy when it came to the Olympics. Thinking about it led to nothing but bad memories. Luckily, he’d managed to turn figure skating into a stepping stone in his quest for success. He couldn’t care less about lighting that damned torch, but he’d use the appearance to his advantage.
Sergei Agisotelis, Alexei’s best friend since childhood, cleared his throat but it was unnecessary. Alexei knew he’d been quietly standing at his side for over five minutes.
Alexei elbowed his Cashmere overcoat back and stuffed his hands inside his trouser pockets. “Serge—” He addressed his friend by his childhood nickname. These days, the only time he called him Sergei was when he was pissed and wanted him to know it. “You look tired this morning,” he said, even though he hadn’t looked at Serge the entire time he’d been standing there.
Serge cleared his throat again. “I’ve got bad news.”
“What is it?” Alexei asked, still fixed on the little girl skating on the ice. Something about the child seemed familiar.
“Turns out your little fling with April Portman has developed into one major headache.” Serge grumbled his disapproval.
Alexei retained control by withholding his attention until the last possible moment. “How so?”
Serge clasped his hands behind his back. “She ran home crying to Mommy and Daddy.”
Alexei didn’t give April Portman or her family much consideration. “What do they want? Money?” He looked at the ground and tapped the toe of his custom-made shoes against the sidewalk beneath him.
It wouldn’t be the first time a woman had hit him up for money. He didn’t like it and normally wouldn’t succumb to the extortion, but right now he didn’t have time for the distraction. Kate’s betrayal had snuck into the forefront of his mind and was demanding every ounce of energy.
“How much do you think they want?” Alexei asked, wanting to wrap up the mess quickly.
“Attempting to pay off a United States senator may not be the smartest move on your part.” Serge’s eyes narrowed into his trademark condescending glare.
Alexei choked on the shock rising in his throat. “Her father is a senator?”
“Worse.” Serge tilted his head. “Her mother.”
Alexei blew out a frustrated sigh. “This is going to bite me in the butt, isn’t it?”
“I understand Mummy is very angry.” Serge paused, massaging his forehead. His face had paled and perspiration beaded his blond hairline. From the looks of him, he’d decided things could get worse. A lot worse.
Damn it. Alexei shook his head and suppressed a groan. “I don’t have time for this right now, Serge.”
“The senator’s not going to just go away,” Serge said, his voice impossibly high-handed. “And we really don’t need the headache. Not with the Olympics looming on the horizon. It’s bad publicity.”
“Well, you know what they say about publicity...” Alexei’s words trailed off his tongue. Visions of triumph fluttered across his mind. Any publicity, good or bad, he’d find a way to capitalize on it because he never failed. Not when it came to business, which was much safer than love.
“Yes, there is such a thing as bad publicity.” Serge retaliated in a stern voice, but quickly wilted under Alexei’s scrutinizing stare. “Publicity from a scorned lover is never good,” he said, making a bold claim amid his shrinking confidence.
“Scorned lover?” Alexei scoffed, dismissing Serge’s concerns. “I didn’t lie to her.” His defenses kicked in and his tone hardened. “I didn’t lead her on. I never promised her anythin
g.”
“Except a good time. Right?”
Alexei frowned, pushing Serge’s observation aside. “Just take care of it.” He backed away from the railing and stepped toward the fairway before stopping to issue one last order over his shoulder. “I want every detail you can unearth on Kate Peterson. She won the gold in women’s figure skating eight years ago. She’s an American.”
CHAPTER 2
KATE’S VISION had begun to clear by the time she and Debra reached the US Residence. She breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for one more chance to see. Someday—and probably sooner than she wanted to admit—her vision was going to fade for good. She hoped the doctors were right, and it didn’t happen while she was here in Squaw Valley.
The elevator doors opened to an empty compartment. Debra followed her inside, hit the number “four” button and then scrutinized Kate with a worry-ridden look. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Debra asked as they began their ascent upward.
“I’m fine.” Kate furnished her most intimidating glare to prove her point. “My vision’s back. All is good.”
The doors opened at the second floor and a middle-aged couple smiled politely before entering the elevator. Kate wrapped her hands around the railing behind her and leaned back, quieting. Debra followed suit, both knowing middle-aged people were members of the media, just like younger stereo-typical reporters.
All ‘is’ good. If Kate told herself that enough times, she just might believe it. Until next time. What if next time was the last time?
That wasn’t a far-fetched notion. And it just might be her future unless she got lucky and somehow managed to land an endorsement that paid about a half-million bucks. Fast. That’s how much she needed to cover the costs of the experimental surgery that stood a fifty-fifty chance of saving her sight.
Since her insurance company, as they put it, wasn’t in the business of funding experimental surgeries, she couldn’t raise the money any other way. Not in the timeframe specified for the surgery to be effective—before she lost fifty percent of her peripheral vision. Roughly four to six months.
Debra nudged Kate out of her private thoughts and through the opened elevator doors into the fourth floor hallway.
Kate pushed aside the inevitable—losing her eyesight—in favor of present dilemmas. Right now she needed to avoid Debra’s barrage of questions. As a diversion, she fixed her gaze on the walls. The bright orange and dull browns of the hotel corridor never looked so good.
Debra hurried down the hallway, but Kate lingered behind. There was a reason the woman was in such a rush, she’d promised to keep quiet until they got back to the suite. Kate needed the extra time to figure out how to get Debra to keep her mouth shut.
The distance between Kate and the door to their suite diminished much too quickly, even at her slow pace. Debra shooed her inside and gave the interior a quick once-over. They both knew it was empty but still, Debra whispered, “Kat-ya, you got some explaining to do.”
Kate sulked and stalled, afraid of the repercussions that came with the truth getting out. She had to think of something to put off the inevitable. At least for a little while.
She stood frozen in the middle of the suite’s living room. “We have to get out of here.” Kate had to escape before Alexei turned up again. “We have to leave now.” Eyesight be damned.
Trying to save her sight wasn’t worth the risk. Alexei had already rejected her once. Damned if Kate would let that happen again.
Debra pulled her down to the couch without much effort. “Kate, sit down,” she said in her authoritative, I’m-the-boss tone. “Take a deep breath and relax.”
“Relax?” The only thing that could possibly calm Kate was if it all went away. She needed to awaken from the bad dream she was caught up in. Since that wasn’t likely to happen, she needed a new plan. “We need to call and tell them to come back right away. We’re going home.”
“We’re not going home.” Debra laughed, as if it was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “We’ve come too far. You’re too close.”
“I don’t care.” Kate shook her head. “The risk is too great.”
“Kate, you’re talking about your eyesight.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Kate blew out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t you think I know this surgery is my last chance? If I don’t get the money to have this procedure done within a few weeks, I’ll be completely blind within a year.”
“Then why would you even consider going home now?”
“The surgery isn’t a guarantee. The odds of success are only fifty-fifty. I’m not going to set her up for a rejection on those odds.”
If Kate had to make a choice between the possibility of saving her sight and the welfare of her only child, she could deal with being blind. She’d learn. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaned back and stretched her legs, resting one ankle atop the other.
“Your daughter is why you have to do this.” Debra eyed her with one very annoying eyebrow shooting up. “If he’s her father then he should help.” She was fishing but Kate wasn’t biting. Yet.
“The best thing Alexei Petrova can do for me is go back where he came from.”
“Spoken like a true hardhead.” Debra turned her head away momentarily. But soon enough she had Kate back in her sights. “Why don’t you want help from the one person who truly owes you?”
She rolled her eyes toward Debra. “Believe me, any debt that Alexei owes is better left uncollected.”
Debra turned to her with a determined glare. “It’s true. He’s her father, isn’t he?” Her inquiry, more of a statement than a question, did little to shake Kate’s collected reserve.
Stoic-faced, Kate held Debra’s stare, keeping quiet.
“Well, come on…out with it.” Debra raked her blonde hair behind her ear.
“What exactly do you want to know?” Kate asked, avoiding her peering gaze.
“Well, for starters, how did Alexei Petrova come to be your daughter’s father?”
“Do I really have to explain that to you?”
“I’m serious, Kate. Why isn’t he helping you take care of her?” Debra shook her head and exhibited her trademark serpent’s stare. “How did he go on to become a multi-gazillionaire while you fell by the wayside, struggling to take care of his child?”
“Calm down.” Kate cleared her throat, trying to force out the anxiety building inside. It remained. “It wasn’t like that.” No matter the facts, she didn’t like anyone criticizing Alexei. “We were kids. Just seventeen. When his coaches found out about us, they pulled him off the Olympic Tour and took him back to Russia before I realized I was pregnant.”
“You never told him?”
“I wrote him several letters,” Kate said. “The last two or three came back marked return to sender.” The notion that he’d do that still pierced her heart. She’d believed their love affair had meant more.
“You don’t know that he was the one who sent them back,” Debra said, as if she knew the thoughts running through Kate’s mind.
“That gets harder to believe after nearly eight years.”
Debra paused, propping her face in her hand and tapping a red-tipped finger against her cheek. “I don’t think he knows.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I just keep thinking about the look on his face when I walked up.” She paused, draping her arm along the back of the couch. “He looked like a lovesick puppy.”
“Everybody looks like a lovesick puppy to you.”
A jiggling at the door yanked at Kate’s awareness.
Katya?
“We have to stay. If you disappear now, it’ll look suspicious,” Debra said just above a whisper. “He wants to see you and talk to you. He’s made that clear. And he’s got enough money to track you down if you vanish.”
“Mommy...” Kate’s seven-year-old daughter rushed toward her. “The skating rink is so much fun.” Amusement floated off the child’s voice and delight brightene
d her eyes.
“Sweetie, I’m so glad you had fun,” Kate said, clasping the child’s hands in hers. She smiled at Angeline, another waitress from the diner who’d come along to help out with Katya. But Kate’s smile hid the truth. Angeline was just one more person destined to find out about Kate and Alexei’s history.
Looks like my past is finally catching up with me. Many people, including Debra and others in Prufrock, had asked about Katya’s father, more than once. Kate’s answer had always been elusive and simple—her daughter’s father, whom Kate had named as Keith Carlson, was no longer in the picture.
“Do you want to go back to the outdoor rink?” Kate wished she had the power to hide the child’s golden hair and azure eyes. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that both had come from Alexei.
“With you? Tomorrow?”
Kate wrestled with the temptation to appease Katya, for the moment, with empty promises. The thought of disappointing her daughter pulled Kate into a one shouldered shrug. “Not tomorrow, sweetie.” The discontent fading Katya’s smile tugged at Kate’s heartstrings. “After the Opening Ceremonies.” She tried to soothe Katya’s despair with a smile and a nod. “We’ll go then, okay? I promise.”
“Pinky swear?” Katya asked, holding up a crooked little finger.
Kate hooked her finger around Katya’s. “Pinky swear.”
“No forgetting.” Katya shook her forefinger at Kate.
“No forgetting.” Kate’s nod lingered long after her voice trailed off. Sometimes, she thought Katya was too mature for her own good. Then again, maybe that’d help if things got out of hand with Alexei.
Katya clapped and giggled with animation.
“Good. Then it’s settled.” Kate squeezed Katya’s hands. “You and I have a date on the ice.”
“Are we going to get to see the skaters compete, too?” Katya batted her baby blues.
Kate fell into the trap headfirst and willingly. “Yes, we are.” She laced her fingers with Katya’s and led her to a nearby couch. “Debra and I got the tickets while we were out.”
Saving Katya Page 2