Page 33 of Shining Through

“Concentrate not just on mastering the move, but on our connection,” she said.

His focus shifted from his body and movements to hers, and how she felt in his arms. Tabitha was tall for a figure skater though still more petite than the average woman. Her strong muscular legs gave her power, which she blended with a dancer’s grace. He shifted his gaze from the ice to her elegant profile and rosy complexion, free of make-up. For the first time, he saw the light freckles that dusted her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

His hand, placed between her shoulder blades, touched warm skin in the scooped back of her leotard. He spread his fingers wider, and she shifted into his hold. There was less space between them now, and he was aware of the tempting contours of her upper body. She wasn’t stacked—most skaters weren’t—but her slinky black practice clothes hugged every curve.

The scorching blues guitar swirled around them, and the female singer’s voice took on a desperate edge. Tabitha’s laser focus seemed to stray from what was in front of them, to Daniil moving in tandem beside her. Her eyes darted in his direction. Her grip tightened around his hand. Her body rocked in a sensuous rhythm that had sprung to life on its own.

One-two, three-four. One-two, three-four.

Feeling it too, he smiled, and leaned in, matching the sway of her body. Lost in the moment, he surrendered to the music and the subtle seduction of their dance. Locked into the give and take of shared movement, they glided together, picking up speed. The chilled air rushing over his cheeks was no match for the heat building inside.

Click.

The tell-tale sound of metal against metal brought him back. Their feet had collided, and their blades had tangled. He felt the resistance. Still in hold, they wobbled, as sweat prickled their joined hands.

She tensed and sucked in a breath. He bent his skating knee lower, and brought his free foot down to the ice, to keep them balanced. She followed, and they glided forward on both feet, righting themselves. Tabitha released a jittery laugh. “Yikes, my bad.”

He realized she’d swung her free leg too far, and her blade had nicked the inside of his. It was the mistake he’d feared making.

“Thanks for keeping us upright.”

“Ne za chto.”

“What’s that mean?”

“No problem.”

They continued to skate the cadence. It was the best way to get past a fall, or an almost-fall. Stay on the horse, as Yuri Bogdanov used to say. Only now, Daniil sensed that Tabitha’s attention was focused on her skating. Right where it should be—and his, too.

But when the song was over and they skated off, he went right back to admiring her toned body, and soft skin, dewy and glowing from skating. As she fiddled with her phone to pause the music, his gaze crept upward to her face. Without the polished perfection of make-up, she looked young and innocent. Vulnerable, too. But most of all, real.

He smiled. “I never noticed you have freckles.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEEN

SHE SWIPED HER CHEEK ASif she could brush the damn things away. Not only was that impossible, but also pointless. He was close enough to see every imperfection. Worse, he seemed to be actively searching.

She frowned. “Just something I inherited from Fiona.”

“She is your mother?”

Tabitha nodded.

“And you call her by her given name. Is that an American custom?”

The question wasn’t particularly nosy, but it still bugged her. To share details of her messy life was something she took pains to avoid. But much as she wanted to keep Daniil at a safe distance, he didn’t want to stay there. He was wreaking havoc with her concentration, on the ice and off. She grabbed her water bottle. “A Turner custom,” she said, and took a long drink. When she was finished swigging, she smiled, cool and collected. “You did well on the cross rolls. You’re a fast learner.”

“I always have been. And you’re a good teacher. What’s next?”

“Tomorrow, we’ll work on backward cross rolls and if you do well, we’ll put it together into a dance sequence.”

“And then it will be my turn to teach you about passion on the ice.”

Before she could ask what he had in mind, the double gate at the far end of the rink opened with a clunk. A bright orange Zamboni rumbled out. Tabitha skated off; Daniil followed her into the lobby and took a seat beside her on the bench as she unlaced her skates. “Did things go well with Misha today?”

“Yep.”

“Antigone is better?”

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