Kate kept quiet, seeing nothing to worry about in her friend’s harmless flirtation.
“The Russian sensation. You’re quite the performer.” Something warm and enchanting in Debra’s suggestive chuckle set Kate on edge. Maybe it wasn’t so harmless after all. She didn’t need Debra to be smitten by Alexei. Debra’s allegiance was one of the few things Kate had going for her.
“Ms. Schilling, you are most kind,” Alexei said.
Kate imagined him kissing Debra’s hand or something charismatic. If he did, Debra would likely succumb to his tactics. Although married, Debra was easily charmed.
Kate had to get her boss out of there. And fast. Before Debra figured out just what Alexei was to Kate. Apart from a Gold Medalist who, for a brief moment, was her skating partner on the Olympians Skating Tour. If Debra inadvertently gave Kate’s secret away, that’d be disastrous.
“You and I should be going.” She lunged at Debra’s shadowy frame, latching onto her arm. Kate pretended aggression and their ruse played out with Debra leading her away.
“Katya?” Alexei’s voice chased after Kate.
She stopped and crooked her neck in a pretense of looking over her shoulder. “Yes?”
He didn’t speak right away and the silence rattled her composure. God, she’d give anything to see right now. It would make running away so much easier.
“Do you think we could get together? For dinner perhaps?”
His inquiry surprised her. Kate wasn’t expecting that. She couldn’t discern his motive for asking and that was vexing.
“Well, I don’t know...” She made a halfhearted attempt to come up with a reasonable excuse to decline.
“Unless of course you’re otherwise engaged.” Alexei’s tone soured.
The teenager in her—the one who’d fallen in love with him eight years ago—wanted to go, but hesitated. The grown-up Kate—the woman who couldn’t see right now—couldn’t count on her vision returning in time.
“She would love to have dinner with you,” Debra spoke up, grabbing Kate’s elbow. “We’re in the US residence, suite 422. Call us later with the details.” She dragged Kate away, spoiling any chance for objection.
After a few steps, Kate scolded her just above a whisper. “Are you crazy?” She’d smack her, but it would probably draw attention. And Kate couldn’t have that.
“No, I’m not crazy. But you must be.” Debra matched her tone. “Aside from the fact that Alexei Petrova is divinely delicious, he’s got more money than Carter’s got little liver pills.”
The first time Kate heard Debra mention Carter’s, she had to look it up to get the connection. Forever after that, she’d thought it dated Debra somehow, giving away her age. In the past it had always made Kate laugh. But not this time.
Once outside, a brisk breath of air wafted past Kate. She sucked in a deep gasp and declared, “We have to get out of here.”
“What’s got you so troubled?” The worry in Debra’s voice blanketed Kate with goose bumps.
Kate wished her eyesight would return. They had to leave before it was too late. Coming to Squaw Valley was a dumb idea. Really dumb idea. “Coming here was a mistake.”
“Are you kidding me?” Debra all but laughed out loud. “You said you skated with him. A quick round on the ice with Alexei Petrova, just for fun, and you’re sure to nail an endorsement deal.”
“Oh, sure.” Kate snorted in defiance. “I’ll just have him drag my blind ass around on the ice. That’s sure to be productive.”
Debra meant well, but she was forgetting one thing—the elusive illness that had Kate’s sight coming and going. Not to mention that her illness was the reason for her attendance at the Olympics in the first place. Sure, she’d been invited to participate in the Torch Lighting Ceremony. But that was just a mask to cover up the fact that Kate needed to land an endorsement deal to pay for the experimental surgery that could save her eyesight.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” Debra chastised Kate. “In case you haven’t noticed, these days Alexei Petrova is a very handsome man. Not to mention, just as wealthy.”
“Maybe so,” Kate said, “but that has little to do with me.” She didn’t need to be reminded of the success of the former Olympic-champion-turned-billionaire-playboy. That made his rejection sting all the more.
“No pun intended, but you didn’t see the look on his face.” Debra chuckled, still clinging to Kate’s arm.
“I don’t want Alexei to know about my...condition,” Kate whispered, fearful of the consequences if she was overheard, or if Alexei suddenly grew a conscience.
“Why not? You two seemed awfully cozy—” Debra stopped. “Is he...?”
Kate shushed her. “Don’t say that. Not here. Not in public.”
A sharp slap echoed in Kate’s ear, and she envisioned Debra smacking herself on the forehead.
“Why didn’t I see it before?” Debra questioned herself.
“Debra, please...don’t say anything more.” Kate implored her companion to keep quiet. “We’ll talk back at the hotel. I promise.”
Given Kate’s lifestyle change—a simple waitress in a down-home café in Nowhere, America—she’d always believed the truth would never come out. It wasn’t like anybody was looking.
But that had changed. Debra had just figured it out. And she’d undoubtedly badger Kate until she acknowledged the one secret Kate thought she’d kept safe. Even so, Kate’s unavoidable confession seemed trivial compared to the mysterious, incurable disease that was slowly consuming her eyesight.
A
s a rule, Alexei Petrova didn’t like making appearances as an athlete anymore. He was beyond that now. Too bad his agent wasn’t. Brent Edmonds never saw past the bottom line, except to look for the next big deal.
But wasn’t that his job? Sure, maybe.
Even so, Alexei had grown tired of being the center of attention. Now he longed to fade into the background, but that wasn’t likely. Not since the Olympic Committee had decided it was a good idea to invite Figure Skating’s Gold Medalists to light the torch at the Opening Ceremonies.
Brent had jumped on that like a hungry dog on a bone. Alexei didn’t always agree with him but Brent knew his business. To ignore that was financial suicide. He went, although begrudging and reluctant.
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.