Medal Up

by Nicole Flockton

  “It’s good?”

  “Very good. We are in contention. Now we wait.”

  “For someone to fall over?”

  He shrugged, his smile rueful. “It is our best hope. But we have done well whatever happens after such a short training.”

  It was terrifying. At such a high level, even a small error could make all the difference. As much as she wanted to win, Belle didn’t want the other couples to fail. She appreciated how hard every one of them had worked.

  “The Germans are out.”

  It had been a small mistake, an overcompensation on a landing that wobbled. But it cost them points. After the other two pairs scored exceptionally well, it meant the bronze was theirs. Hers and Bohdan’s. The scoreboard blurred, and she dashed a hand across her eyes. It was true. They’d won the bronze.

  She sucked in a desperate breath.

  Bohdan’s arm came around her, holding her steady. “We have to go. The ceremony is about to start.”

  She let him guide her back onto the ice, where the podium was set up. The gold and silver winners were already crossing the ice.

  He stood behind her on the podium, hands on her shoulders, releasing her only for the few moments when the medals were placed over their heads.

  When the Australian flag was lowered along with the other winning nations’, she choked back tears, holding up her medal for the cameras. “This is for you, Sue Lin.”

  Bohdan pulled her back against his body as the national anthem for the gold was played. An incredible peace flowed through her. She’d done what was asked of her. Now she could make a new beginning. Hopefully, with Bohdan at her side.

  Who knew what they could achieve together?

  Chapter 11

  The celebrations were over, and finally, she and Bohdan could be alone. No competition hanging over them. They made their way out of the arena holding hands, Bohdan towing the equipment bag. She could hardly wait for them to get back to the village so they could really talk.

  When yet another person waylaid them with congratulations, she was hard put to keep the smile on her face. The stranger spoke what sounded like Russian but wore the uniform of a Canadian coach. He wasn’t easy to brush off. It seemed Bohdan wasn’t even trying.

  The coach smiled down at her. “Good job. You both did well. A great future, I think.”

  After a few more words with Bohdan, he moved away. “I look forward to seeing you in Toronto in a few weeks.”

  Toronto? She began to walk, Bohdan catching up to her easily with his long stride. She risked a look at his impassive expression. “What was all that about?”

  Color warmed Bohdan’s cheeks. “This is one of the things I wish to talk about.”

  Suddenly, it all came together. The obsession with his phone, the avoidance of any talk about what would happen after the Olympics. He’d never intended to go back to Australia with her. So what had last night meant? Probably nothing.

  “What happens in PyeongChang stays in PyeongChang,” she murmured.

  He looked at her strangely, his mood hard to read. Nothing new, for him.

  She’d been a fool. He’d indicated often enough that he didn’t want her. That the attraction between them was something he didn’t want to act on. That the kisses they’d exchanged were a mistake. If he hadn’t been so upset, he would have sent her away last night and nothing would have happened. She’d wanted it so much, wanted him so much, she’d been blind to the true situation. Any woman would have done for what he needed. She halted on the pavement near a park with a giant statue representing something athletic.

  “I didn’t talk to my parents after the ceremony. I should go find them.”

  “I understood we would be meeting them tonight for dinner?” He seemed oblivious to her anger. Couldn’t he see she wanted to get away?

  He stood the equipment case carefully on the edge of the cement, out of the way of the pedestrians. His hands dropped onto her shoulders, weighing her down almost as much as her thoughts. “What is happening, Belle? You are upset.”

  Now he becomes Mr. Sensitive? “Nothing.”

  “Ah. Now I know there is something. Is that not what girls always say?”

  “Let me go.” This time, it would be her turn to cry, and there was no way she was making a spectacle of herself in front of half the world.

  “No. We are talking.”

  His grip above her elbow kept her a prisoner. She couldn’t fight with him in public. “All right. Where?”

  “My room. Neil is busy elsewhere.”

  She didn’t want to go back there and face the memory of her stupidity. But he was right. There weren’t too many places where they could be alone here.

  A bus was approaching, and Bohdan indicated for it to stop. They would be back at the athletes’ village in minutes, and they could sort it out. Finish it.

  She pressed her hand against her chest, holding in the pain. It would be easier later. When he was gone. When she was alone. Maybe then the numbness would come back.

  • • •

  Belle watched Bohdan stow the case of equipment in the corner of the room. He started to pull off his jacket, and, reluctantly, she did the same. The rooms were heated enough that the heavy parkas would make them sweat in no time.

  “Do you want a drink?”

  She wasn’t interested in being social, but she was thirsty. “Water. I’ll get it. How about you?”

  He nodded, sitting down on the bed and unlacing his boots. She placed a bottle for him on the bedside table and sat on the armchair. No way was she getting too close to him.

  His bare feet reminded her of last night. Everything reminded her of last night. Most of all Bohdan and the way he was looking at her: a little puzzled, the crease between his brows more marked than ever.

  “You are angry with me? Did I do something you do not like?”

  Pride suggested she shouldn’t answer. To tell him she was hurt by his actions would invite speculation about her feelings for him. Not that she was ashamed. There was nothing shameful in loving someone. But it was embarrassing all the same.

  “You’re leaving. Without telling me.”

  He rolled the water bottle between his hands, studying it with grave attention. “It was not something I could tell. Not until I was certain it would be happening.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “We won a medal.” He dragged the disk with its long ribbons from around his neck, placing it on the bedside table along with the water.

  “You’ve been offered another partner?”

  “Not a partner. A job. Only for a few months.”

  “What about us? Doesn’t that count?” How needy that sounded. “Our skating careers, I mean.”

  There was a twitch of his lips, and for the first time since they entered the room, he really looked at her, his eyes scanning her face. “Is that all that matters? Our careers?”

  She wanted to say no, but he’d frozen her out so often before it was too hard to take that risk. Or was it?

  “Maybe.”

  The twitch came again with a softening of his expression. “So brave you are.”

  Not brave at all. But she could be. “What about last night? Didn’t it mean anything?”

  He shook his head, and pain tightened her chest. “Oh no, Belle. It meant everything.”

  “Then why . . . ?” There was a fluttering in her stomach.

  “I have been invited to spend the summer in Toronto studying with Sergei Dvorak and assisting him to coach juniors.”

  “The gold medalist in ice dancing? He coaches now? That was him?”

  “Exactly. I did not realize you would not know him.”

  “And you want to make the change to ice dancing. Is it to do with Svetlana, your old partner?”

  “I was hoping you would wish to come with me. To train with Sergei.”

  “Me . . . you . . . ice dancing?” There wasn’t enough air in the room. How had he known?

  “It is a very great honor
to be chosen. He does not take many students.”

  “Brady and I were going to try out for ice dancing. We were training for months, and then he left.”

  “So, it is something you would like to try?”

  She squeezed her bottle so hard it sloshed onto her ski pants. She brushed the droplets away impatiently and leaned forward. “Yes. Oh yes. Do you mean it? You really want to do it with me?”

  “Of course. We are partners, are we not? And friends.”

  • • •

  Bohdan almost shouted his relief. She had not been angry with him about last night. It had been his secrecy. Now, if only she would agree to a further partnership. His gut did a weird somersault.

  “And we are agreed?”

  She nodded, almost bobbing up and down with excitement. “When do we leave?”

  “I have some commitments in Europe for my sponsors I must take care of almost immediately. I would like you to come with me. Then we would need to be in Toronto in late spring. Autumn, in your part of the world.”

  “I’ll have to get visas. If I want to work while I’m there.”

  “We can talk about that later. First, I wish to ask you something.”

  She stilled, her head slightly tilted as if that would help her hear. “Yes?”

  He patted the bed beside him. “Could you come here to sit? It is very uncomfortable trying to talk to you across the room.”

  Her face lit up, and his throat closed up with the emotions that seared through his chest. She was everything he’d never believed he wanted. He waited until she was settled beside him and draped his arm around her shoulders, needing the contact.

  Where to begin?

  “I did not intend ever to marry. To have someone close to me. Family.”

  Her eyes were wide as they looked up at him. “Not even Svetlana?”

  “Especially not her. Our fight was about that. She wished to announce our engagement at the Olympics. I told her no, and she found someone else to make the announcement.”

  “You mean it was revenge on the ice? A woman scorned thing?”

  “Perhaps. She was very angry. I do not blame her. I was not fair. I never cared for her. Even if I wished to marry, she would not be my choice. She was safe to be with because I did not care. The only scar she left was on my leg.”

  “Why don’t you want to get married?”

  “Because to marry someone I would want to love them. I did not want to love—to me it means only pain and loss.”

  “Oh.” There was a wealth of emotion in that little word.

  “Do not weep for me, little love. I have learned better.”

  “How come? What changed?”

  “You have taught me. I have fought it from the first moment we met and you came running to hug me and welcome me to your country.”

  “And now?”

  “It is difficult. I do not know if I can be what you need. It is not something I am used to. This affection. Not something I can offer with certainty.”

  She stiffened in his hold, and he squeezed her tighter.

  “Do not mistake. I like it very much when it is from you.”

  Her eyes were liquid darkness searching his face. “What can you offer?”

  “I offer my surrender. I am yours in every way.”

  “You love me?” There was disbelief, and he could understand why. He had been brutal in those early weeks, desperate to protect himself.

  “I do love you. You are strong yet sweet. I crave you like one of those desserts you like so much.”

  “Pavlova. All sugar and egg whites. No substance at all.” She grinned up at him.

  “You have plenty of substance. Fruit and cream.” He could never imagine tiring of her. Yet there was something he needed to hear from her.

  “And you. How do you feel?”

  “About you?” Her smile was mischievous. “It was more of a hot-and-cold thing. First I loved you then I hated you. It all depended on whether you were being Mr. Icicle or not.”

  “What about now?”

  Her hand clasped his, sending heat straight to his crotch.

  “Definitely on the hot end of the spectrum. I love you. I’ve loved you so long it’s almost a part of me. I never really expected anything to come of it.”

  “I was very hard.”

  “Is that a euphemism?”

  He loved her humor. He loved everything about her. “Not at the moment. It is a reality.”

  Her glance darted down, and her eyes widened. “Would you like some help with that?”

  “Maybe.”

  Her laughter sent something very like joy to his heart. Her touch was something else altogether. She peeled away his shirt, running soft hands over his chest.

  “What do you think you are doing?”

  The kiss on his stomach made it very obvious, but she answered all the same. “Consummating our partnership.”

  Joining in her laughter, he pulled her onto his lap. “I look forward to many such occasions.”

  “Slow, slow?”

  “Not this time. I think fast, fast would be appropriate for a medal winner.”

  Chapter 12

  From the security of Bohdan’s embrace, Belle watched Brady kiss Arielle in celebration of her gold-medal win. Bohdan’s love made her complete, but there was still a corner that rejoiced in Brady’s happiness. Arielle was a treasure, and they had become friends, so perhaps in the future they would see more of each other. Simon, too, was happy with his John, and the trio that had grown up together at the rink were friends again.

  It would never be the same. New loves had come into all their lives, new priorities. But the old wounds were healed.

  “What are you thinking?” There was a warning note in Bohdan’s voice.

  “I just wish everyone were as happy as we are.”

  “Ha. You are thinking of interfering again.”

  She turned into his hold. “Not really. It was only that it would have been nice to invite Dani and Davo out to dinner with us.”

  “No and no and no.”

  She grinned up at him. “I can see you are going to be a very masterful male.”

  “Someone has to keep your good impulses under control.” His fingers trailed over her throat. “Where is your necklace?”

  “I gave it to Dad to take back to Australia. He and my mother have a little place where they keep mementos of Sue Lin.” She sucked in a breath. “I gave him the medal too.”

  He stared out across the arena. “It was always you.”

  Distracted by the activity around them, Belle took a moment to register. “What do you mean?”

  “There was never a chance of me choosing another partner.”

  She twisted out of his arms, the better to see his face. “Why not?”

  “I was at the Junior World Championships when you won gold. I tried to meet you, but you were surrounded by your friends.”

  Her heart lurched. They had been within touching distance all those years ago. “I wish we had met back then.”

  “It was not the right time. I had a partner. You had a partner. At the time. Now it is different.”

  It was different. They were older. She was certainly wiser. It was hard to remember that younger self, so determined to succeed and so brokenhearted at missing the chance to redeem herself. “You’re probably right.”

  “Of course I am right. Sometimes fast is not always good.”

  She laughed, punching him lightly on the shoulder. “Not always.” She wrapped her arms around his middle. “Maybe sometimes slow, slow is better.”

  He tilted up her chin with his knuckle. “It is all good with you?”

  “Yes.” And it was true. She could remember her sister with the fondness she deserved, without the grief. Without the guilt.

  “I, too, am good. We are all good together.”

  She looked again at Brady and Arielle and Simon, smiling and happy. “Yes, we are. All good together.”

  About the Author

  Fio
na Marsden lives on five acres in rural Australia with a dozen kangaroos, one koala, and several thousand romance novels. When she doesn’t have her nose in a book, she’s adding to the world’s collective of happily ever afters.

  Find Fiona Marsden at www.fionamarsden.com, on Facebook at www.facebook.com/PrincessFionaMarsden/, and on Twitter @FionaMMarsden.

  Turn the page for an excerpt from

  White Knight

  Chapter 1

  “I told you I’m fine.”

  The sweet, feminine tones reached him over the raucous voices of the crowded London pub.

  Damn.

  The woman said she was fine, but the hairs on the back of his neck tingled with static. He took a couple of deep breaths. The lights overhead flickered ever so slightly, not enough to disturb the other patrons of the pub, but enough for him to notice and heed the warning sign for him to strive for calm.

  Or he could answer the damn call.

  Because if he didn’t do something, sure as hell every bulb in the place would blow.

  “Honestly, I don’t need or want another drink,” the brunette at the table reiterated.

  This time a longer flickering accompanied a low buzzing.

  Fuck.

  He threw back the rest of his scotch, the burn of the liquor doing nothing to cool him down. He swiveled, the metal stool he sat on screeching out a protest at the sudden movement.

  Derek didn’t need to scan the room to find out who was being hit on. He knew exactly who. He’d noticed her himself the moment she walked in—alone, and obviously preferred it that way if the “fuck off” signals were anything to go by. Still, she was hard to ignore. Her tall, willowy form, highlighted by a figure-hugging red dress, was his brand of catnip. Her pale skin stood out against the starkness of her dark hair, which hung halfway down her back. An air of vulnerability underlay the coolly elegant persona she projected.

  Every protective instinct, honed by his stint in the military, ignited the instant he set eyes on her, which was why he now found himself standing at the table where she sat, having no memory of taking the necessary steps to cross the room.

  “Is everything all right here, miss?”