Page 37 of Shining Through

The hot, greasy guitar licks, straight from a late night dive bar no ice queen would set foot in, inspired the story of a woman consumed by desperate want. She was like the free-spirited character in “Someone New,” but with a dark, dangerous edge. This character wasn’t looking for someone new, she wanted only one man and she couldn’t have him. Tabitha hadn’t settled on the reasons, but the plot line mattered less than the character’s unhinged emotions. She danced on the edge of reason, flirting with madness and ruled only by her heart, consequences be damned.

It was a tale that could only end in heartbreak. But didn’t every love story?

Though Misha and Anton were often with them at the rink, just as often, she and Daniil were alone, caught up in the thrill of what they were creating together. Days and nights flew past in a rush of experimenting and refining. Ideas gushed forth in a torrent and just as she’d settled on one, she’d discard it when an even better idea came along.

The heady process helped her understand why Samara always seemed to be flitting from one thing to the next. Her sister wasn’t scatter-brained or distracted. This was how her creative mind worked. The difference was that Tabitha had never allowed herself to embrace her own creativity. Now that she had, she couldn’t imagine going back to the passive role she’d always taken in her skating.

Though she continued to polish her competition programs, it was this side project which captivated her. “Spell” wasn’t a program she would ever perform, but that wasn’t why she’d created it. This was a gift to herself, and to Daniil, who’d helped her find the courage to unleash and indulge this new, passionate side.

Sunday afternoon, Tabitha skated beside him, lost in the music and immersed in this character who frightened and intrigued her at the same time. In hold, their bodies moved with powerful, seamless rhythm that propelled them down the long side of the rink. Daniil could now take the lead in their dance with such confidence and finesse it was easy to forget that he was just a beginner.

If they meshed this well on the ice, how might they be off it? Like in bed?

The tantalizing images that writhed in her subconscious all night, resurfaced. Consumed by dream-memories of his hands on her bare skin, she gazed into his eyes. She was caught in a shadowed place between their on-ice characters and real life, uncertain where one ended and the next began. She wanted to stay in his arms forever, but it couldn’t be. She’d choreographed what came next.

Daniil’s gaze held hers and he nodded a quick signal he was about to release her for the twizzle sequence. The sensation of his hand on her lower back disappeared first. He slowed, so she could glide ahead, passing once beneath their still-joined hands. Then he let go, and she spun through twizzles, still sensing his presence, though she skated alone.

When she came out of the sequence, he was gone.

She glided backward, hands clutched to her heart, rising on her toe picks and then dipping low, in sinuous movements that embraced her whole body. She leaned deep into her edges. Edges he’d called sexy. The final guitar solo began, and she threw herself into a triple Salchow, then into a layback spin. Chilled air rushed over her face, and her hair flew out behind her. She finished the skate with her head down, one hand fisted over her heart. The other reached out for someone who was gone and would never return.

Still breathing hard, Tabitha raised her head and pumped her fist in triumph. At rink side, Daniil applauded. “Passion wins over the Ice Queen,” he said, laughing as he skated out to join her.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a loose hug that made her beating heart pound even harder. She embraced him, even though she was out of breath and sweaty. Unfazed, he smoothed his hands over the slick fabric of her leotard. “It was a tough fight,” she murmured against his shoulder. “The Ice Queen doesn’t go down easily.”

“I wouldn’t expect her to. She’s a fighter.”

He kept his hand on her back as they skated to the edge of the ice. Tabitha’s legs felt shaky, and she needed to rest before they worked on Antigone. Just a short rest, though, as their blissful time alone was about to end.

Starting tomorrow, skaters would arrive to prepare for the upcoming competition. As nice as it had been to forget Mia Lang briefly, in a few days that would be impossible. Brett arrived Tuesday. Peter had already called to say he’d arranged a Thursday interview with Canadian TV. Daniil would be busy with press commitments and preparing for his competition. There would be no time for fun and games like “Spell.”

They sat on their usual rink side bench and dined on a quick meal of carry out salad, with nuts and apples for dessert. Tabitha checked her messages and showed him photos of the garden Fiona had planted in the window sill of the new apartment. “Looks like home, even if they’ve only been there a few days,” he said.

“We’ve moved so many times, we’re experts. Life will go back to semi-normal, until the wheels fall off again. Wash, rinse, repeat.”

“But it’s made you who you are. And as beautiful as that flawless face you show to the world, I prefer the real person behind it.”

Tabitha stirred her salad. Before meeting Daniil, she wouldn’t have trusted the compliment. Now she did, and that scared her even more. “It’s been nice to have a break from being perfect this week. And I’ve liked that we’ve been able to teach each other. You’re a natural coach. It’s something you should consider once you’re finished competing. Or before that if you needed to.”

“So I could quit taking my father’s money?” He gave a short, knowing laugh. “Like anyone would want me as their coach. I’d have to stay out of trouble for good. Something I’ve never done.”

“You’re doing it now. You’ve stuck to the vow you made. And haven’t you heard the worst students make the best teachers? You’re living proof its true.”

“You have more faith in me than I deserve, but thank you for saying it. I only wish I could have helped you as much as you’ve helped me.”

“But you have! If you hadn’t convinced me to indulge my passion, I wouldn’t have done any ice dance. And I created a new story for Antigone.”

“Did you? Tell me! I want to hear.”

She paused. She’d loved his suggestion to swap the real tale of Antigone for another she liked better. Last night’s sexy dream had inspired her alternate story line. Her new vision of star-crossed lovers was so compelling she had to share it.

“This Antigone isn’t a princess from a crazy family. She’s the queen of great nation that’s about to go to war with its long-time enemy. But Antigone wants peace, so she travels to the enemy country to negotiate with the new king. When she arrives, she discovers that he’s handsome and honorable, and doesn’t want war any more than she does. They end up falling in love.”

“Do they stop the war?”

“No. Their most trusted advisors betray them and war breaks out, anyway.”

“How are they betrayed?”

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