Whew. Katya was safe for another day.
Kate hadn’t regretted much in the last few years, but she regretted coming to Squaw Valley. Her desire to make the experimental surgery a reality had clouded her judgment, and now she feared her daughter was going to pay the price.
She had to figure out where Alexei’s head was. Did he know about Katya? Of course he knew. Who else could he have been talking about besides Kate when it came to knowing the score? The question now was, would he ever be accepting of his daughter? Or would he treat her just like he’d done with Kate, and toss her aside like a too-short blanket?
The elevator doors slid open to an empty fourth floor. Kate inched out into the hallway, as if Alexei might magically appear from out of nowhere. Spotting the door to her suite, she hurried along the corridor and fumbled inside her purse for the key. Her hands trembled and she devoted every ounce of concentration to sliding the card across the electronic lock. The door popped open and Kate released the breath she’d been holding.
“God, I hate men!” She swore just above a whisper, closing the door.
Debra rose from the couch and laid her paperback romance aside. “What happened? Dinner didn’t go well?”
“He knows.” Kate dropped to the couch and moaned when she saw Debra’s book’s title: Love’s Last Chance. That’s all she needed, Debra’s mind fueled by unrealistic ideas she’d found inside a romance novel.
“He knows what?” Caution oozed from Debra’s voice as she eased back down onto the couch between Kate and the book.
“He got my letters. He chose not to be Katya’s father.” Kate fought the tears straining to get out by stiffening her lips.
“He said that? In those exact words?” In a swift move, Debra grabbed the book and placed it in her lap.
“No, he didn’t use those words precisely.” Kate shook her head, standing her ground. “He asked me if we could get some time on the ice together while we’re here. I said yes, and asked if I could bring a friend. I told him I had someone I wanted him to meet.”
“And...”
“Right on cue, his phone rang.” Kate paused, struggling to smite the urge to sob. Alexei Petrova wasn’t worth a single tear, much less a decent cry. “He was talking about me—bitching is more like it.” She paused, gaining control of her grief once her pride showed up. “He excused himself, saying he had to go.” She mocked him with her last words and felt better for doing it. “This was obviously preplanned to get him out of the disagreeable situation that he now regrets initiating.”
Debra burst into skeptical laughter.
“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never tried that one before.”
“I think I invented it.” Debra’s devilish laughter tapered off into empty silence.
“We should send Angeline and Katya back to Prufrock.”
“You can’t do that!” Debra’s glare was hard. “You promised to take her skating at the outdoor rink.”
“Okay. Well the next day for sure then.”
Kate had yet to break a promise to Katya. As soon as they took a turn on the ice, Katya was going home.
CHAPTER 4
THE FRONT PAGE of the morning paper featured a picture of Kate wrapped in Alexei’s arms. Ice skaters in the image’s fuzzy background identified the location. Yesterday at the indoor rink, when Kate’s sight had failed her, there had been a bright flash. Well, now she knew what it was. A camera.
Staring at the paper, fear settled in and showered her with a sudden, inexplicable chill. What if Katya saw it and asked who he was? So far, Kate had never lied to her daughter about her father. She’d simply avoided the subject. This photograph could change all that. A long, low breath burst through her closed lips.
An interior door opened inside the suite, startling her. Debra emerged. Kate folded the paper with a swift snap and buried it between the couch’s cushions.
“Whatcha’ got there?” Debra swooped in and snatched the paper from its hiding place. Unfolding it, she looked at it and sneered. “Honey...you are big news.”
“Deb, please. I don’t want Katya to see that.” Kate pushed off the couch and grabbed at the paper.
Debra snapped it out of her reach. “Why?” She clucked her tongue. “You’re going to have to tell her sooner or later.”
Sulking, Kate slumped back down onto the couch. “I’m not going to tell Katya anything until I know where Alexei stands.” The mention of her daughter’s name set off the warning signals. “If I tell her about him...and he doesn’t want anything to do with her—” Torment gnawed at her insides. “It’ll break her heart.”
“You’ve got to talk to him.” Vigilance escaped in her tone and settled on her face. “You need to find out if he actually knows he has a daughter.”
“I know that.” Kate stood and crossed her arms at her waist, as if that would help.
“Well, the longer you put it off, the worse it’s likely to be.” Debra swatted the paper against Kate’s arms.
She grabbed the paper—potentially damning evidence—just as Katya popped in from another room inside the suite. In a swift move, Kate concealed the paper behind her back. The child barreled across the room. Kate summoned her brightest smile and slinked between her daughter and the end of the couch. Stealthily, she stuffed the newspaper out of sight.
“Mommy, will you take me skating at the outdoor park?” Her daughter’s eager pleading tested Kate’s will-power.
“Yes, we’ll go tomorrow.” She smiled and brushed away a stray lock of Katya’s dauntingly familiar golden-brown hair from her face.
“Not today?” Disappointment shaded Katya’s expression and her shoulders drooped.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but remember...I have to prepare for the Opening Ceremonies and that’s tonight.” Kate withdrew into an uncharted sector of her mind, trying to hide from the guilt of disappointing her daughter, but she couldn’t shirk her responsibilities. Doing so would have dire consequences. Participating in the Torch Lighting Ceremony was the only way to move back into the public’s eye—the only place she’d attract endorsement deals.
“You promise...tomorrow?” Katya batted her eyes, her bargaining tool against Kate.
But she didn’t need it. Kate fully intended to take Katya skating tomorrow. After that, Katya and Angeline were going home. If Katya put up too much of a fuss, Kate would go too. She might ruin her shot at an endorsement deal, but so what? Katya had to come first. Even before Kate’s eyesight.
Kate smiled her reassurance, and said, “Tomorrow, I promise.” She sucked air in through her nose and summoned the courage to head out and take care of her obligation. “But right now I have to go.”
“And while they’re gone—” Angeline commandeered Katya’s interest as Kate and Debra grabbed their coats and purses. “You and I,” she said to Katya, “are going to see what’s playing at the movies.”
Kate and Debra slipped into the hallway and Katya and Angeline’s voices faded as the door closed between them. Walking in silence along the corridor, Kate relished in the quiet. She needed time to think, even if it was just a second or two. Time to devise a plan. Time to right her mistake.
Closing in on the elevator, Kate slammed her palm against the down button.
“How long do you think it’ll take the sponsors to show up?” Debra asked, following closely and quietly behind Kate.
“Well...lighting the torch during the opening ceremonies is a big deal.” But it was the least of her worries now. Now she just wanted to get her daughter out of there. “We shouldn’t appear too eager, though.” The elevator doors opened and Kate stepped inside.
“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.” Debra’s tone held a bit of amusement as she followed Kate into the elevator.
“Why’s that?”
Debra pressed the lobby button. “Face it, Kate. There’s not a desperate bone in your body. Not even when blindness is at stake.”
Kate sighed, stalling for time to come up with a crushi
ng reply to what she knew amounted to the truth. Accepting handouts wasn’t in her makeup. No matter the consequences—except when it came to Katya. But this wasn’t about her daughter. This was about Kate’s eyesight and nothing more. Certainly not anything that warranted her begging for charity.
“I get what you’re saying...” The elevator doors opened at the third floor and Kate let her words trail off into silence.
A lone man joined them inside the lift and glanced at the control panel. He smiled at them and backed up toward the opposite wall without touching the buttons. He was attired in brown slacks and a blue dress shirt. He fingered his tie, a lighter shade of blue, and gave Kate and Debra a quick once-over.
A reporter. Did he recognize Kate? She held out hope that he didn’t. She’d been out of the public eye since her Olympic win, and these days her appearance had changed. Not a lot. But still, she’d changed.
“Ms. Peterson?” His demeanor and his tone suggested he knew it was her and his inquiry was nothing more than a formality.
Damn. “And you are?” Kate asked.
“Andrew Ritchley.” He offered his hand and she reluctantly accepted the gesture. His kind wasn’t to be trusted. Not when she had so many secrets to hide.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Ritchley?” She tried not to let her wariness chill her tone too much, but she feared she’d failed.
“Care to give me a personal interview?” he asked. “Just a couple of questions.”
Kate’s chest compressed, as if his words had sucked the air out of her lungs.
“Sorry.” Debra stepped forward and stopped him with a hand gesture. “Ms. Peterson has committed to an exclusive elsewhere.”
The tension eased around Kate’s chest. Debra’s announcement was the perfect “out” with all the reporters. They understood exclusives, and none would think less of her for entering into one. They’d just be upset with themselves for not getting to her first.
“Then a word or two off the record?” he asked, as if it was still up for discussion.
Judging by the pout shaping on his face, she knew her gaze had been effective. The elevator doors opened into the lobby and Kate stepped out, followed closely by Debra.
“Restroom,” Debra whispered, catching up to her and bypassing her.
Kate quickened her pace to keep up with Debra and get to the safety of the ladies room without further confrontation with Mr. Ritchley.
They slipped inside the restroom and Kate sighed, but her relief was probably going to end up short-lived. There was one way in and one way out. The question was, would the reporter wait for them to emerge?
These days, Alexei Petrova spent the bulk of his time on the road and he’d gotten used to eating alone in hotel rooms. The solitude used to leave him feeling lonely and lost, but that had died away years ago. After returning to the United States less than a year after his coaches had dragged him back to Russia, he’d tried but hadn’t been able to locate Kate. As a cure for his broken heart, he immersed himself in creating an empire. Thanks to the numerous endorsement deals that had made him rich and famous, he had plenty of seed money to build upon. And now, he was as powerful as he was wealthy.
Alexei had never forgotten his fans or felt he’d outgrown them. He didn’t mind signing autographs, posing for the occasional photo request, or fan interaction. But he did prefer his meals without interruption. Lunch today was no exception.
Hunger pangs trounced his better judgment as he surveyed the small table loaded with a buffet of choices. Perusing his options, he reached for a piece of fried chicken. Sinking his teeth into the delectable American cuisine, he glanced out the window. The same one he’d spent most of the previous evening standing at, gazing out into the night. He had no reservations about eating alone, but he had plenty when it came to Kate Peterson.
There might be something to that out-of-sight, out-of-mind theory after all. Last week he was fine. Over her. Then he saw her again yesterday and hadn’t been able to think of anything or anyone else since.
Alexei pulled the chair out, dragging his frustrations with it. He settled in and grabbed a piece of warm bread. Thoughts of Kate danced chaotically with his ability to reason. In all the scenarios that had once plagued him, Kate marrying another man and having his child—one she’d named Katya—wasn’t one of them. His pride had prevented that. The newfound reality hardened him into a pillar of steel, leaving him inert and indecisive.
Even in his present state of turmoil, Alexei knew the second Serge quietly entered the room. His pride tamped down those muddled emotions, masking them by picking up a spoon and stirring sugar into his coffee. He tasted a sip. The coffee seeped down inside him with a warming effect. Ummm...better.
He tried to push the fledgling thoughts about how much trouble a US senator could cause into the forefront of his mind. Anything was better than the clutter crowding his head right now. He wished he didn’t want to know the details of Kate’s life so badly. But he did. He had to know where this Keith Carlson was and, more importantly, if Kate was happy with her choice. “Did you find out where her husband is?” he asked calmly, without turning to look at Serge.
“How do you do that?” Serge approached the table and paused, crossing his arms against his chest.
“Do what?” Alexei finally looked at Serge.
“Know when I come in...without looking at me?” Serge slid his hands inside his trousers—a clear indication of his anxiety.
“You’re not exactly light-footed, Serge,” Alexei said to ease his friend’s mind. “So...did you find the husband?”
Serge slid a hand out of his pocket and leaned in to steal a roll. “Not yet.”
“Come on, Serge...how hard can it be to find a woman’s husband?”
“Pretty damned hard in this case.” Serge sank his teeth into the bread.
“Where has she been living?” Alexei snapped up the cloth napkin and wiped his hands.
“Prufrock. It’s a small town not far from here.”
“Send someone. I want to know if she and Keith Carlson are still together before the day’s out.” He rose, forcing the chair back.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Okay, tomorrow,” Alexei said just before disappearing into an inner room inside the suite.
Half an hour later Alexei emerged, having showered and dressed for the afternoon activities pertaining to the evening’s Opening Ceremonies. Serge was gone. Good. Alexei needed solid info on Kate, and he needed it soon. What he’d do with the information once he got it, he didn’t know. His course of action would probably depend on the content and whether or not she was still married.
Jealousy was an annoying trait; one he’d just as soon do without. If Carlson made her happy, then Alexei wished her well. Still, a piece of his heart would always belong to Kate. Who the hell was he kidding? She’d laid claim to an enormous piece of him long ago. He’d just forgotten about it in her absence.
Alexei’s feelings were irrelevant. She’d made her choice the day she married Carlson and solidified it when she gave birth to his child. Alexei wondered how he’d react if he ever met Kate’s daughter.
He may be a lot of things, but home wrecker wasn’t one of them. If she was still married, Alexei would smile politely, tell her congratulations and move on. Unless she asked him not to. Could he “play” daddy to a child that wasn’t his? If that child was Kate’s—yes.
Hoping for the best, he grabbed his jacket and headed out.
Exiting the hotel, he waved his driver away, preferring to walk. The perfect exercise to work off some of his mounting envy toward a man he’d never met. People passed him by as he strolled along. Some acknowledged him with simple greetings. Others, mostly girls, graced him with come-hither looks. Any other time, he would’ve picked out the most attractive, let her have her way with him and then bid her adieu, well before the break of dawn.
Any other time, but not this time. This time, only one woman commanded his thoughts. And it was looking more and
more like she wasn’t available.
Upon reaching his destination, not only was Alexei’s resentment still with him but it had amplified. He entered the Grand Exhibition Hall on the Central Fairway, trying to push all thoughts of Kate out of his head. For his own sanity’s sake, he’d better concentrate on the evening’s upcoming event instead.
Such a feat, Alexei knew, wouldn’t be easy.
Kate glared at the microphone in her face. Damn it. Ritchley had caught up with her at the Grand Exhibition Hall. “What’s the dirt on you and Alexei Petrova?” His question fueled her disgust. It looked like he was done playing.
So was Kate. Her give-a-shit factor had fallen to zero. “There is no dirt.”
He gave her a quick inspection that ended in a high-flying smirk. “Just a friendly hug, huh?”
“Alexei Petrova and I are friends. We skated together briefly after the Olympics eight years ago.” Kate justified the newspaper photograph with an inconsequential tone.
“So I’ve heard.” He snickered. “I also heard you were the reason he was shipped back to Russia eight years ago. You two got a little too close.”
“What are you implying?”
“Yes.” Alexei’s voice snuck up behind her once again, but this time it wasn’t meant for her. “And what outlet of the media do you represent?” Alexei’s tone, targeted at the reporter, was hard and cold. He leaned in and read the man’s credentials hanging around his neck. “Mr. Ritchley.”
“Modern Life.” The reporter beamed.
“This is your unlucky day, Mr. Ritchley.” Alexei’s words echoed through Kate, scaring her even though she wasn’t the intended target.
For the first time, Kate saw the potential of Alexei’s ruthlessness. But since it was directed at the reporter, a man who was trying to pick her apart, she overlooked it. Relished in it, even.
Dude, you are so in trouble. She chuckled in silent triumph.
“How so?” Countering words, probably meant to project confidence in Ritchley’s shaky voice, failed miserably.
Saving Katya Page 4