by Diana Palmer
“Besides that,” Burt interjected, “you get a political message in almost every television program, every product ad, you name it. I watch television to be entertained, not to be indoctrinated.”
Karina laughed. “It does feel like that, doesn’t it? I don’t really watch television. I live on the internet when I’m not working.”
“Doing what?” Micah asked.
“Going to out-of-the-way landmarks all over the world,” she said. “Mysterious places like the Inca ruins in Peru, the Aztec ruins in Mexico, the Mayan ruins in the Yucatan. Stuff like that.”
“Archaeology,” he mused.
“At Teotihuacan, those pyramids had a thick layer of mica between the levels,” she recalled. “The only mica of that sort known was mined in South America. Imagine transporting that all the way to the Mayan pyramids in a primitive age.” She glanced at Micah. “Nobody knows why they went to so much trouble to get it, or why it was placed in the pyramids centuries ago.”
Burt pursed his lips. “It’s a great conductor of electricity,” he pointed out.
Micah gave him a droll look. “Maybe it was a primitive antenna. You know, so the Mayans could watch TV when they weren’t carving stelae.”
Karina laughed.
Burt just smiled. “Well, who knows?” he continued. “Those huge stone constructions, like at Machu Picchu, how were they made? Nobody knows. Nobody’s been able to replicate that sort of building, even with all our modern tech.”
“Maybe it was aliens?” Karina suggested with twinkling eyes.
They both glowered at her.
She laughed. “You know, some Native Americans believe that human beings have risen to the same level of civilization that we have today, several times in prehistory. They think catastrophes destroyed those civilizations, and scattered the people, so that they had to begin from the Stone Age all over again. In fact,” she added, warming to the subject, “part of the United States was once under the ocean. They’ve even found sea shells on top of mountains back east.”
“Conspiracy theorist,” Micah jeered, but kindly.
She sighed. “I guess so. It’s just that we really don’t know all that much about the planet we live on. There’s a lot of guesswork, because it’s almost impossible to date ruins that don’t have an organic component. Even so, determining exact age is tricky.”
“They’re coming up with new methods of dating stone all the time,” Micah replied. “In fact...”
He was interrupted by his cell phone. He answered it curtly, impatient at the interruption.
He drew in a long breath, got up and picked up his coffee. “Yes,” he said, moving toward his study. “All right, give me a minute.”
He went into the room and closed the door.
“Business,” Burt said. He shook his head as he placed crackers, sliced cheese and saucers on the table. “That phone never stops ringing. He won’t even cut it off at night.”
“He should,” she said softly. “Even a relatively young man can have a heart attack from too much stress.”
“Maybe eating rabbit food is good for him,” he returned with twinkling eyes.
She made a face. “Rabbit food’s not so bad. But I still love steak,” she confessed.
He laughed. “Me, too. I’ll just warm that coffee for you.”
“Thanks.”
* * *
BUT BY THE time she finished her cheese and crackers, and the warmed coffee, Micah still hadn’t returned. She was faintly disappointed. She loved to listen to his voice. It was like deep, rich velvet.
She got up and put her dishes in the sink, pausing to thank Burt for the treat. It was late and she was tired.
Her ankle was a little swollen from the skating, but that wasn’t worrying. She was delighted to know that she could still do the moves that had won her and Paul that gold medal at the World Figure Skating Championships. She really needed to get in touch with him. She hadn’t thought about going back into competition. She’d been too afraid to go on the ice after her injury.
But Janey and Hilde had turned her life around. She saw possibilities. She’d practice when Janey did, and see how it went. When she was confident enough, she’d call Paul and see if he wanted to get back together with her with a new coach and try for the Olympics next year in Pyeongchang.
She reminded herself that it would be a struggle. But, then, life was a struggle. You just had to take the first step and keep going.
* * *
SHE’D ALMOST MADE it to her door when Micah came out of the office.
“That was my attorney,” he told Karina. “They’ve dealt with the girl who was giving Janey so much grief. She’s been expelled, along with the boy she was being intimate with at school. Her parents, apparently, knew nothing about it. They were devastated.”
“That’s sad,” Karina said. “But it will make poor Janey’s life easier.”
“I try not to interfere, unless I have to,” he replied. “But this was a circumstance that she couldn’t handle on her own.” He chuckled. “My attorney was shocked, to say the least. He’s Burt’s age.”
“Don’t make that sound like I got off the Titanic in time,” Burt said, glowering.
“You’re not old, Burt. You’re a fine, aged wine,” Karina said.
He grinned. “Hear that?” he told Micah.
“You’re moonshine whisky with wood alcohol in it,” came the retort.
Burt glared. “You’re getting liver and onions for supper tomorrow.”
“Sadist,” Micah accused.
Burt made a harrumphing sound. “On that note, I’m going to bed. Don’t forget your cheese and crackers, boss. I reheated your coffee.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Good night.”
Burt went down the hall into his room. But Micah didn’t move. “Janey said earlier that you did a triple,” Micah said when Karina started to turn away.
She flushed. Not much got past him. “Well, sort of...”
He moved a step closer. She barely came to his chin. She smelled of flowers. He could see her breathing change at the proximity. It flattered him that he was affecting her. Women had played up to him for years, aware of his wealth and eager for presents. Even Lindy wanted him for what he had, not what he was. But here was a woman who was excited by the man, not his checkbook.
His big hand went out and touched a wisp of hair that had come loose from the high bun that wealth of pale blond hair was confined in. “How long is your hair?” he asked.
She fought to get enough breath to answer him. “It’s...to my waist,” she faltered.
He moved another step closer, so that he could feel the warmth of her body. The scent of her filled his nostrils. “Is it?” He looked down at her mouth. He stared at it with visible curiosity.
She was shaking inside. She’d had the usual crushes on boys as she grew up, but there had been nothing really physical, unless you counted the close contact she had with Paul. But Paul was like a brother. This man was a forest fire waiting for kindling. He was big and tough and gentle, and she was drawn to him in ways she’d never been drawn to any other man.
He could see her reactions. She couldn’t hide them. She was too young, of course; twenty-three to his thirty-four. She worked for him. There were about twenty more reasons that it was a bad idea to even think about getting involved with her.
Karina was fighting a losing battle as he stared at her mouth. He wanted it. She could tell. She wanted his, too, that sensuous mouth that looked as if it knew everything there was to know about kissing. He moved one more step closer, and both her icy hands went to the thick black-and-red plaid shirt that was unbuttoned just at the top. Thick, curling black hair peeked out of it there. Under her hands, she could feel hard muscle. His big hands went to her shoulders and lingered there, smoothing over the soft material o
f her sweater.
“This,” he said roughly, “is a very bad idea.”
She swallowed hard. “Yes. You’re engaged.”
He blinked, as if he’d just realized that. Worse, he realized what he was doing. He was making a move on his daughter’s babysitter. There were whole volumes written about men who did that. Of course, she was a grown woman, not a teenager. Still, she was, she should be, off limits.
He moved back a step, dropping his hands from her shoulders. An awkward silence followed.
“It’s my cologne,” she blurted out.
He stared at her. “Excuse me?”
“The advertisement said that men would jump out of airplanes with parachutes on just to get to women who wear it.”
“I’m not wearing a parachute,” he pointed out.
“Oh, it’s probably outside, hanging from the limb of a lodgepole pine,” she added, and her pale eyes twinkled.
He chuckled. “Maybe it is.”
“Good night, Mr. Torrance,” she said.
“Good night, Miss Carter,” he replied.
* * *
SHE CLOSED HER bedroom door and sat down hard on her bed. Her heart was going like a fast watch and she couldn’t quite catch her breath. Heavens, he was sexy! She could see why he drew women. Money would have been the least of the reasons.
She was going to have to work at keeping some distance between them. She loved Janey already, and she liked this job. She couldn’t afford to get involved, in any way, with the boss. Besides, as she’d already reminded him, he was engaged.
She thought about his fiancée and how she’d taunted Janey at the ice rink. She didn’t like children. What sort of life would Janey have, if Mr. Torrance married that woman? Lindy didn’t seem like the nurturing sort. It would be a miserable existence for both of them. Not to mention Burt, who didn’t seem to get along with Lindy, either.
It was none of her business, she reminded herself. She’d do best to keep her nose out of it and let Mr. Torrance lead his own life.
She got into her nightgown and climbed under the covers. But it was a long time until she could sleep.
* * *
JANEY WAS GETTING better at skating. Saturday, despite the snow, they spent all day at the ice rink. While Hilde explained the first level of competition to Janey, and schooled her in it, Karina worked at getting back to her old proficiency.
She began as she always did, with simple movements. She’d made sure she stretched first, especially her ankles, to keep from doing any more damage. She was going to have to see her sports therapist next week and let him check to make sure she was ready for jumps. She’d worried about the swelling when she did the triple the day before.
She didn’t attempt any more jumps of that sort. She practiced the routine moves, the ones she’d learned at the beginning of her skating career. Besides helping with the discipline of forms, it also helped to keep Janey from seeing more than she should. The child was astute. She knew that a triple was not a move for a beginner. Karina had also rambled on about living in many states while she was in competition. But she had a remedy for that. She’d just tell the child that she’d gone no further than district competition. That should head off any worrying questions that Janey might pose.
She loved the way Hilde was with the child. She was ever so patient. Karina remembered watching Hilde at World Championships with her own skaters, the ones who’d quit her after saying she was too old-fashioned in her training methods. Karina disagreed. Hilde had a genius for choreography.
While Janey practiced, she paused beside the older woman to watch.
“She’s very good,” Hilde said. “She just needs practice and discipline, and she could go all the way to the Worlds. Even the Olympics. Just like you,” she added with a warm smile.
“If she keeps at it,” Karina replied. “She has no idea how grueling it is to compete, or how mean some of the skaters and their parents can be.”
“You coped. So will she.”
“The routine that Paul and I did, at the Worlds. You saw it. What would you have changed about it?” she asked.
Hilde started. “It was very good.”
“What would you have changed?” Karina persisted, and she smiled.
Hilde drew a long breath. “You know that I am a hopeless romantic.”
“Yes. That’s why I loved to watch the skaters you coached. It inspired Paul and me. When we got rid of our abusive coach, and went with Harmon, we suggested moves very like those you’d choreographed.”
Hilde beamed. “I am very flattered.”
“So tell me. What would you have changed?”
“For one thing, the costumes,” she said. “To do a fantasy, you should look the part. Something with flowing lines, very conservative and feminine. For him, a tailored look, but with a fantasy component.”
“A short cape,” Janey mused.
She laughed. “Just the thing, and a red cummerbund, like a prince would wear in the old days.”
“What else?” Janey asked dreamily.
“The combination moves. I would do them differently, to conform to the rhythm of Rachmaninoff’s exquisite score.”
And she explained what she’d seen, and what she’d have liked to see.
“That would fit better with the tempo,” Karina agreed, picturing it in her mind.
“Something like this.” Hilde moved out onto the ice and performed a series of jumps, ending in a beautiful layback, one that Karina had never seen before.
“That’s new,” she exclaimed. “I’ve never seen a layback so graceful!”
“Try it,” Hilde invited.
Karina got up some speed and imitated the graceful moves the older skater had performed.
“Excellent,” Hilde laughed. “You make me look clumsy.”
“You could never be called clumsy,” the younger woman argued. She smiled. “You know, I...”
She stopped, staring, as Micah Torrance came into the building with an annoyed Lindy at his side. She wondered if something was wrong. He looked irritated.
He motioned to Janey. She skated over to him, but a little clumsily, because another skater cut across in front of her unexpectedly. Karina followed, hoping she wasn’t in trouble. They were at the rink later than she’d planned. She lost track of time when she skated.
Lindy laughed as Janey approached, sparing a glare for Karina. “If that’s what you’re being taught, you’re wasting your time,” she told Janey. “You don’t have the self-discipline for skating.”
Karina had to bite her tongue to keep from shooting back a reply. Her eyes glittered at the other woman, though.
Micah saw that. He wasn’t very pleased with Lindy’s remark, either.
“I don’t expect exhibition-quality skating of a beginner,” he told his fiancée curtly.
Lindy shrugged. “Whatever. She’s not serious about it, anyway. She never did anything right when I was teaching her.”
Janey flushed.
“She does very well,” Karina defended her.
“Oh, like you’d know,” Lindy chided. “You skate like a beginner, too. I won a district competition,” she reminded the other woman.
How many judges did you have to bribe? Karina thought wickedly. But she only smiled.
Janey started to open her mouth, and Karina was certain that the triple was going to come up.
She headed off trouble. “Are we late?” she asked Micah. “I’m so sorry. I was talking to Hi...to the owner of the rink,” she amended. It wouldn’t do to let Micah know how well she knew Hilde.
“That old has-been,” Lindy said, bored. She riffled through her purse for a lipstick. “She lost all her skaters, so she’s reduced to being the caretaker of this dumpy skating rink.”
Micah frowned. “What did you do, eat razor blades for dinner?” he de
manded. “For God’s sake, Lindy!”
She seemed to realize finally that she’d put everyone’s back up. Janey and Karina were openly glaring at her now, and Micah was plainly annoyed. She closed her purse. “I’m hungry. I didn’t get dinner, yet,” she said pointedly.
“Don’t expect me to go to any restaurant tonight. I’ve got to fly to Billings for talks with the owner of a refinery I’m buying.”
“I guess I can eat a bowl of cereal,” she said, sounding pathetic.
It was an act. Karina saw right through it. Amazingly, Micah seemed to, as well. “I guess you can,” he said curtly.
Lindy glared at all three of them. “I’ll wait in the car,” she said. “It’s cold in here.”
She turned and walked out. Even her stride was snippy, like her voice.
“Peace at last,” Micah said under his breath. He looked down at his dejected daughter. “You can’t skate like an Olympic champion when you’ve only been at it for a few weeks,” he pointed out. “You’re doing fine. Honest.”
Janey’s face lit up. “You really think so?”
“I do.” He smiled tenderly. “But you have to learn self-confidence. Don’t let a sarcastic person convince you that you’re incompetent. You can do anything you want to do.”
“Not really,” Janey said.
He raised both eyebrows.
“I can’t go to Mars.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m leaving. Lindy and I have to get to the airport. Listen, one of the cowboys saw a bear close to the house. You both stay inside, unless you’re going to and from school or the ice rink. Don’t take chances. Make sure you both have your cell phones, and that they’re charged.” He glanced at Karina, who was flushed. He held out his hand and stared at her.
She ground her teeth together as she pulled her cell phone out of her fanny pack and handed it to him.