The evening went well, mostly. They ate at a small restaurant he found that did traditional Eastern European cuisine. Belle told him about her work at the laboratory and her plans to get into research after she was no longer competing.
“You plan to make that your career?” She never seemed to worry about taking time off. Had never talked about it. Not that she’d had much chance.
“I’ve wanted to get into researching blood diseases since I was a kid.”
A weird ambition. Especially for a lightweight like Belle. “You don’t think you’ll do something like coaching?”
“No. I can put in the work, but I’m not creative enough to coach. Maybe little ones. If my kids are interested in skating, I could get involved.”
He liked the idea of her shepherding little girls with straight black hair in pink leotards around the ice. Or maybe a blond little boy. It would be something they could do together as a family.
Kurva blyat!
He was going insane. The most he was ever likely to do was get into her pants. A bad idea at any time but fatal going into a crucial competition. The last thing they needed were hurt feelings when they had to be perfectly in synch. He’d been down that road before. And there was one other thing he was sure of. He certainly wasn’t looking to settle down and marry anyone. Family was not for him.
The safest place was in a crowd, so afterward Bohdan suggested they go to the athletes’ lounge in the village, where they found Simon and some of the other competitors to hang with.
Simon was sitting on Bohdan’s left, occasionally saying something to Belle, who was on his right. He was fairly quiet, compared to his usual form. Probably missing John. As far as Bohdan was aware, they hadn’t seen each other since Simon had headed to Austria for the training program after Helsinki.
“I saw you and Bohdan met Brady at the airport.”
Belle leaned across to reply to Simon, her breast brushing against his chest and sparking that awareness Bohdan was trying to avoid.
“We didn’t talk or anything. Everyone was in a rush to catch the train. Except us.”
“Touristing?”
“Not really. Bohdan was meeting . . . friends.”
Friends? Lana reminded him more of something in the predator line. At least his ex hadn’t turned up tonight. Most of the Russian skating team were quartered on the other side of the village.
Simon’s “Oh?” was a masterpiece of understated curiosity.
Bohdan nodded. “My coach. And another of the Russian team.” Might as well spit it out and get it over.
Belle probably thought he couldn’t see the way she rolled her eyes and grimaced at Simon. But her friend caught on quickly.
“Svetlana. Your old partner?”
“Yes.” He really didn’t want to talk about it. Apparently, Simon couldn’t take a hint.
“She’s a favorite in both her events. I still think Arielle Baldwin has better form. The Russian girl is too temperamental. She lets things affect her performance.”
Bohdan caught his eye, and Simon flushed.
“A good analysis.”
“I suppose that’s what happened at Sochi. A pity. You were a sure thing before she messed up the free routine and sent both of you onto the ice. It looked deliberate.”
“You saw it?”
He didn’t think anyone else had noticed. Lana had claimed it had been his fault for missing the triple. After being a step behind the music all the way through, she’d done her double too close, and her blade had snagged him on the shin, sending him down. It had needed stitches. It could have been a lot worse if he hadn’t dodged at the last moment. It could have ended his career.
Simon nodded. “I’d finished my routine and came to watch.”
Bohdan was aware of Belle staring at him.
“It was deliberate?” She rested one hand on his thigh, way too close to the action.
He shifted under her touch, easing away. “I can’t prove it. Even looking at the video after, I couldn’t point to anything. But she was too good a skater to make those sorts of errors.”
“But why would she do it? Didn’t she want to win?”
He couldn’t answer that without explaining exactly what went down between him and Lana that day. “She is temperamental, as Simon said.”
Belle fell silent, and even Simon seemed to have lost his taste for conversation.
After a few minutes, Belle leaned toward Simon. “I think I might go back to my room. Bohdan booked the training rink really early so we can do some individual practice before it gets busy.”
Bohdan shouldn’t have been disappointed, but he had hoped they would have a chance to talk more. Which was contradictory, considering he had suggested the lounge to make sure they weren’t alone. But the conversation about Lana had left a nasty taste in his mouth, and he would have liked something sweeter to finish the night on.
Instead, he spent the night tossing and turning, and when he did finally fall asleep he dreamed about Belle. Not sweet little sugar-fairy dreams but hot, ache-in-the-groin dreams that made him head for the bathroom for a cleanup for the first time in more than ten years. After that, he gave up on getting any more sleep and spent the time before dawn planning the practice session.
Chapter 4
By 7:30 a.m. Belle had decided social life didn’t agree with Bohdan. She’d often wondered what a bear with a sore head might be like. Dangerous, yes. Mean and ornery, she hadn’t expected.
Everything had gone wrong right from the start. He’d forgotten to bring the tools for the skates, which was odd for someone so picky. They had to borrow some off the Chinese skater who’d been using the rink before their appointed time. Belle looked over to where their competitor was busily doing a few jumps, making the most of the few minutes it would take to get it sorted.
It meant she and Bohdan would have less time by themselves, because the rest of the team would be coming before long.
Bohdan muttered something under his breath.
“You got out of bed on the wrong side this morning, didn’t you?”
He paused in tightening the blade on her left skate and scowled up at her. “There is only one side to get out in this place.”
She rolled her eyes and tugged the lace on her boot, hard. “It’s a saying.”
The Chinese skater using the ice was pretty good. He was probably going up against Simon in the singles, based on the routine. It had all the required elements plus a few splashy additions.
Bohdan gripped her ankle, pushing on her boot. He would have tied the laces as well, but she pushed his fingers away.
“Finish getting ready. I’ve got this.”
He was still adjusting his skates when she stepped onto the ice. She’d warm up while she waited, following the other skater around the rink. She always liked getting onto the fresh ice first thing, before it got chopped up by a multitude of skaters. The Chinese skater had reached the gate and was leaving as Bohdan hit the ice.
His long, lean legs in tight black trousers picked up speed, and Belle meandered along, watching him streak around the rink. Maybe this would get whatever it was out of his system. He passed her twice and, coming around the third time, reached out. She picked up speed, and he gripped her hand, pulling her along, easing fractionally to match her slower pace. Together, they covered the ice, each lap getting slightly faster.
Finally, she released his hand, gliding toward the center of the ice and doing a double Axel, landing from the jump with a slight wobble.
“Careful.”
He was right behind her, preparing to take her waist in the beginning hold for the short program. The scowl was gone, replaced with a look of concentration.
Music filled the arena. Startled, she looked across and saw Simon, his skates hanging over his shoulder, standing by the sound booth. It was too late to comment, the first bars of their program music filtering across the ice. She started half a beat behind, and she pushed to catch up before the first spin. Bohdan would have so
mething to say afterward, but she was determined not to give him any further cause for criticism. This time, she landed the double Axel perfectly, and the triple twist was probably the best she’d done in a while. Before she had time to think, it was over, and Bohdan signaled to Simon to shut off the music.
“I wanted one run-through with the music before the others get here. Now we will practice individual elements.”
She was used to this. She wasn’t afraid of hard work, but it helped having someone like Bohdan push a little. Or a lot. Maybe he hadn’t relaxed so much after all. She could see Simon doing some jumps at the other end of the ice, but there was no time to study his form as Bohdan insisted on repeating the lift. “You are sloppy. The back must be straight and the legs fully extended.”
By the end of the session she was in a lather of sweat. Bohdan muttered something when the other team members arrived and almost flew off the ice. By the time Belle caught up, he’d pulled off his skates, and she could see him stalking down the corridor to the exit. So much for her hope of having breakfast with him. She smiled at Simon as he came off the ice.
“Want to do breakfast?”
He raised his brows. His dark hair was ruffled, as if he hadn’t brushed it. “What’s with Dovzhenko? He couldn’t get away fast enough.”
“Just one of those sessions where nothing goes right.”
Although, he usually didn’t get hot under the collar. Normally, he was like an icicle, looking down his long nose and freezing her with his critique.
“Never mind. You looked pretty good, although your line was out on the last lift.”
She sighed. “Thanks for nothing. Bohdan already ripped me up for it. If I don’t improve tomorrow, he wants to work off the ice.” That was a scary thought—alone with Bohdan in one of the tiny studios. Hopefully, his mood would be better.
• • •
It was too cold to be hanging around outside the practice rink, but Brady wouldn’t be able to get in without the pass she’d wrangled from the coach. The low cloud and bitter wind had kept the outdoor athletes off the slopes. Luckily for her, Brady had been at a loose end when she called him.
She didn’t know what she hoped to achieve. Maybe if she figured out Brady, it would help her understand Bohdan’s attitude. She hadn’t ever been close to any guys apart from him and Simon. Her brothers had left home long before she saw them as anything other than annoyingly bossy pseudo-parents.
Brady came loping along the pavement with that easy stride she remembered. He nodded in acknowledgement, and she hustled him inside, waving the passes at the security guard and leading the way along the corridor to the empty rink.
“What’s this all about, Belle? You said something about a favor.”
It had been one way of getting him here. She remembered him as the type of guy who would do anything for a mate. Well, almost anything. Now, she didn’t know where to start. “I’m having trouble figuring out some stuff.”
“With your program? Bohdan or your coach are the people you should talk to about that.”
“We were good friends when we were skating together, weren’t we?”
His face stiffened, and a wary look came into his eyes. “I suppose.”
“We were good on the ice.” She screwed up her mouth. “With Bohdan, it’s different.”
“Of course. He’s got his own distinct style. We all do . . .did.”
She eyed him curiously. Did he still think of himself as a skater sometimes? “It’s not about style. It’s more about emotions.”
“Belle . . . ”
He looked like a sheep in the headlights, ready to run. What was it about men and the E word? “I’m not trying to get you to admit to anything. I just don’t understand why it’s different.”
“It’s probably to do with your age. We were kids. You were, anyway. The programs, the music, it was more fun stuff. What you’re doing now is more . . . ”
“Sensual?”
The way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, it looked like he might want to throw up.
“Uh . . . yeah . . . probably.”
A bubble of laughter caught in her throat. What was she doing trying to talk to Brady about the icky love stuff? They’d never gone there. She’d just have to work out Bohdan herself.
Brady was looking anywhere but at her. Something in the way he eyed the smooth surface of the rink told her she wasn’t totally wrong about his feeling for the ice.
“Do you still skate?”
“Only once since we finished up.”
“I thought you would have done more. You always enjoyed it, even aside from the comps.”
He shrugged, avoiding her eye. “Living in Utah most of the year, it’s a social thing. I just didn’t get into it. I’m usually on the slopes.”
Belle cocked an eyebrow. “Impressing the girls?”
“Nah.” After a moment, he cracked a reluctant smile. “Yeah. At least I know a few moves.”
She hoisted the bag she was carrying onto the bench and unzipped it. “You would probably fit Bohdan’s spare practice skates. You both have big feet.” She grinned, and he grinned back, suddenly the old Brady she remembered. He’d always teased her about being a shrimp, and she’d laughed at his big feet. He’d grown into them nicely.
“I guess.” He looked at the bag, and his smile slipped. Was it a mistake to push him into skating again?
There was a moment of hesitation, and then he reached for the black leather boots. His fingers ran along the bright silver blades with a stroke that was almost a caress.
“Are you sure it’s okay?”
“He never uses them.”
“I mean the rink. Isn’t it booked for competitors?”
“No worries. Bohdan wants to practice in one of the studios in front of a mirror, so we don’t need the slot. He’s not happy with my line in one of the lifts. I keep dropping my feet.”
Brady sat down to put the skates on. “Seems to be going okay. You and him, I mean.”
“He’s good. Lots of ideas to make things more interesting visually.” Watching Brady tighten his laces took her back years, to the suburban rink where she’d learned to skate. How many times had she and Brady done this? There might not have been love, but you couldn’t just put aside years of your life as if it meant nothing.
He stood, towering over her on the skates. He was anyone’s definition of hot, yet there had never been anything like that between them, despite the rumors. Belle had always fancied Simon, until she understood that was a hopeless cause. What a triangle that had been, her wanting Simon, Simon idolizing Brady. And Brady? No one really knew what Brady wanted. He had plenty of girls all the time. At school and at the skating rink where they practiced. But no one serious, ever. Not to Belle’s knowledge, anyway, and they’d been in each other’s pockets for four years until he quit skating. After that, it was anyone’s guess, unless you took social media gossip as gospel.
“Do you ever see Simon?” She knew the answer, but it didn’t hurt to probe Brady’s take on the estrangement.
Brady’s face had that closed-off look she remembered from his teens whenever his parents were mentioned. “I bumped into him the first night.” He hesitated, one blade edging onto the ice. “Do you see him much?”
“All the time when we’re home. His mum and mine still rule the local Zonta club. It’s always dinner every second Saturday and barbecues in the summer. I suppose that means you haven’t met John?”
“John?”
“Donovan. His partner.”
Whatever he might have answered was lost as his gaze shifted past her. Bohdan. She didn’t need to look; he radiated something that made her edgy without him even trying.
“I better go. You have until half past. One of the other teams has a booking then.”
With a brisk wave of his hand, Brady slid out onto the ice, picking up speed, pushed by those muscular thighs. She checked a sigh. It would be so much simpler if she fancied someone like Brady. So much more under
standable.
She turned to face her teammate, but he was watching Brady execute some turns.
“He is good, your friend.”
If there was a question there about the relationship, she wasn’t answering it. There had been too much gossip and innuendo in the past. It probably wasn’t surprising things fell apart in the run-up to the Vancouver Winter Olympics.
Bohdan touched her arm, heat blossoming through the thin fabric of her practice leotard. It only got worse, this awareness. Especially since the kiss that didn’t happen. Who was she kidding? If Bohdan could pretend it hadn’t happened, she should try to forget it. But it wasn’t that easy. Her lips tingled every time she remembered, along with other places she wasn’t used to having react.
She followed him down the corridor into the maze of tunnels where the dressing rooms were situated.
Chapter 5
“I do not understand this friendship you have with Brady. You do not speak for years, yet you think he is still your friend.”
Belle nodded. “We were close growing up, all three of us, even though the boys were older than me. The same age as my sister.” She sucked in a breath against the pain of mentioning Sue Lin. “But we went to a private, all-girls school, so we didn’t see the boys except at home and at the rink. I knew Simon because our parents are friends, and he was mates with Brady at school. It was Simon who brought Brady along to skating originally. I initially was partnered with Simon, but when I was twelve, the coach put Brady and I together for a competition, and we really clicked on the ice. Simon was doing exceptionally well in singles and wanted to focus on that. Brady was good as a single, but the coach liked how strong he was. He could do lifts, which isn’t always easy in Juniors.”
“You were romantic friends?”
She had to laugh. “Not at all. He’s like a brother. I have two older brothers, but they’re twelve and fifteen years older than me. I was the afterthought.” Sue Lin had been the girl they’d all wanted for so long. The one to round out the family.
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