Page 42 of Shining Through

She hesitated. Going to the early practice meant she might run into Daniil. Not at all what she wanted. But during a major competition, something as trivial as a missing costume piece could really mess with your mind. Brett needed a flawless skate today. She wouldn’t risk ruining it because of her own discomfort.

“I’m on my way.”

Tabitha arrived to find the arena doors still locked, leaving her no choice but to enter through the skaters’ entrance. She flashed the all-access ID Peter had arranged for her and entered the concrete tunnels that snaked beneath the arena. A navy blue sign pointed toward the men’s locker room. Too close for comfort. She should text Brett and tell him to meet her by the ice.

She headed in that direction when a door at the opposite end of the corridor swung open. And there was Daniil, headed toward her.

Confronted by what she’d both dreaded and longed for, she froze. Her pulse quickened with intense attraction that was all too real, even if he didn’t share it. A part of her wanted to turn away, but pride kept her walking. She had nothing to be ashamed of. She wasn’t the one who’d hidden the fact there was someone else. They were on a collision course, and when they reached the middle, he stepped into her path, blocking her way.

“Hello Tabitha.” There was low menace curled in his voice.

“Excuse me, I need to get past.” She tried to side- step him, but he braced his hands against the wall on either side of her. Trapped, her heart pounded. She wasn’t afraid of what he might do, though. No. As heat prickled her body, and her gaze fell on the tempting swell of his lower lip, Tabitha was more afraid of what she might do.

“Not so fast. First, I have questions.”

The silky accent coiled around the words, and a frisson of excitement jangled her nerves. She fought it, summoning the shield of righteous anger. She tilted her chin and offered a disdainful laugh. “Ask away. I have nothing to hide.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your fiancé? Instead, I find out from chatty TV reporter who said she would interview you and Brett Stafford.”

“The same reporter who interviewed you and your girlfriend?”

His stiff posture relaxed as his shoulders dropped and he sighed, shaking his head. “Yelena is not my girlfriend. It’s true we were involved last year, but it’s over now.”

“That wasn’t how it looked on TV.”

“She was nervous about facing Western press, which you may have noticed, isn’t kind to us. I tried to put her at ease, and that reporter assumed there was more to it. But in reality, Yelena is in love with Ruslan Chernin, who you met in Chicago.”

She remembered Samara commenting that Ruslan had a serious girlfriend. She also thought of how the press had seized on her and Brett’s alleged romance. Daniil could be telling the truth.

“But you still haven’t answered my question. You say you don’t trust men, when all the while you’re deceiving not only me, but him too. Did you tell him about Chicago? Has he met Hildegard Snarski?”

She couldn’t bear for him to think she was a cheater. Yet, revealing the truth could compromise Brett. “It’s not how it looks either. Brett’s also just a friend.”

He leaned closer, his nearness overwhelming, and his breath fanned her cheek. “We seem to have complicated friendships.”

“Yes.” Tabitha’s mouth felt dry, and she flicked her tongue across her lips.

“We need to talk.” He brought his hand to her face and dragged his finger across the slick moisture on her mouth. The sensation set her nerves tingling, and he leaned in further, so that his mouth brushed her cheek. Their gazes locked together, and the corner of his lips lifted in a sexy little smile. “But first, you should be kissed properly.”

“To get me into character?”

“To get you into something.” He claimed her lips in a kiss that took her breath away. He wasn’t gentle, he was demanding. Hungry. The heightened sensation lured her in as though she’d been drugged. She dropped her head back against the wall, giving into the delicious heat. She looped her arms around his neck, and arched against him, crushing her breasts against the hard plains of his chest. He drew her in, arms wrapping around her waist, hands cupping her ass. In her mouth, his brazen tongue explored every soft crevasse, taking his sweet time. When he broke contact, Tabitha sagged against the wall, breathless, and her knees trembled like jelly.

“Can you get away tonight after the competition?” he whispered.

“Yes. Late.” She rasped, as he nuzzled her neck and she caught the seductive essence of Polo Black.

“Midnight,” he said. Once more, he kissed her, and his fingertips teased the hem of her short sweater, slipping beneath to touch her bare skin. His touch feathered against her belly, and his thumb traced lazy circles around her navel. She sucked a breath, and her center grew warm and damp. Her tight jeans rubbed against the sensitive little nub of her clit in a tantalizing way. “Wait for me at the bench outside the hotel. And wear that short skirt you had on last night.”

She blinked. “How did you know what I had on?”

His gaze melted into heart-rending tenderness, “Just like the little fan-girls saw you, so did I. Did you think I wouldn’t be looking,krasavitsa?”

“What did you call me?”

“I call you beautiful. Which you are. Like golden sunrise or finest crystal.”

He put his hand to her cheek and gazed into her eyes. Warmth and acceptance radiated out from him, and made her feel safe, even as her emotions spun in a whirlwind of confusion. Once more, he brought his mouth to hers and she drank in the sweetness, succumbing to a rare moment of sheer pleasure.

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