Page 10 of Shining Through

Even though the light, bouncy melody masked a bleak lyrical storyline, Tabitha found it easier to lose herself in this character; a young woman eager to chase her newest passion. It could be a man. It could be a career, or even an art form. The character reminded her of Samara, who’d dabbled in photography, found-object sculpture, and acting, among other things. Now, she was in film school. Who knew whether it would last? To live like that would make Tabitha crazy, yet Samara never hesitated to follow her heart.

But that’s so risky. You could end up with nothing to show for your life, or like Fiona, watching your child’s father turn his back and walk away, as if you didn’t matter. Safe, secure and in control. That’s what you want.

Or was it? Sometimes, she wasn’t sure.

Her gaze was drawn to the rink side bleachers where a man in a black t-shirt sat watching. Oh my God, it was him! As she glided past, she looked over and met his gaze.

His mouth curved into an alluring smile that made her body take notice and her thoughts run wild. This was the guy the woman in “Someone New” would fall for. Trouble, for sure. But not mean or misogynistic, like Domachev. This guy would upend her perfect plans and make her question everything. He would make her forget why she shouldn’t and only think why she should. A guy like this would turn her heart inside out and, turn her into… someone new?

And you can tell this from one smile? Get a grip, girl.

But her heart knew otherwise. She’d seen it in the power of his skating. In the way he hadn’t been afraid to express the emotions she preferred to hide. It took courage to show the world who you were. Courage she admired. Courage she lacked.

The haunting lyrics wrapped around her and infused every movement. Tabitha leaned deep into the edges of her blades, bending low, sinuously moving her shoulders and hips. She stroked her hands up over her body and combed through her hair. Her outstretched arms reached for a man she’d welcomed into her bed, only to awaken and find him gone.

The song entered its final chorus; she rotated into a layback spin. Her head fell back and the rink raced past in a blur. When her rotation slowed, she saw the tattooed guy at the boards applauding. Tabitha caught her breath. Her heart pounded, and the program she’d just skated wasn’t the only reason. Because in a moment of clarity, Tabitha knew exactly who he was.

Just as Misha said, he was a distraction she didn’t need.

“Damn girl,” he said, in a resonant voice. “Those are the sexiest edges I’ve ever seen.”

She skated over to where she’d left her water bottle, a few feet from where he stood. She took a long swallow, smiling as she drank, then licked the moisture from her lips. “Don’t let my coach hear you say that. Edges should be elegant and perfect, not sexy.”

“I disagree. And you bring something to them other skaters don’t.”

It went without saying he was full of bullshit, but bullshit sounded really good delivered in a voice as sensuous as his. She brushed a lock of sweat-damp hair from her eyes. “You’re Daniil Andreev.”

He grinned and slipped the guards from his blades. He glided out onto the ice and came to a stop at her side. “Guilty as charged.”

“Mmm. So I’ve heard.” She wondered why he was here, and not in a jail cell some place. “I’m Tabitha Turner.”

His brown eyes held hers, and when he smiled, her heart did its own version of a triple axel. “I know.”

CHAPTER FIVE

SHE NARROWED THOSE AMAZING BABYblues and Daniil’s heart kicked into overdrive, like he was putting his foot on the gas, to surge down a wide open road. He might not know where it was headed, but he sure as hell wanted to take the ride.

“What are you doing in Chicago? I heard you’d been arrested or something.” A little smile tugged at the corner of her mouth when she said the word “arrested.”

Daniil shrugged, though he was turned on by how she seemed turned on. “A misunderstanding. Everything’s fine now.”

“I’m sure.” Her low, throaty laugh suggested she didn’t quite believe it, but she was still talking to him, right? Whatever that was worth, he’d take it. “Back to my first question. If you’re not competing, what brings you to Chicago?”

You.He smiled, but not too much.Keep it cool, dude.“Others from my training group are competing in Star Spangled Skate. My coach’s wife coaches Phillippe and Marguerite, so I came to support them.”

“Just one big happy family.”

Across the rink, Misha had his mobile to his ear, and held up a finger, that he was almost done with his call. No hurry, as far as Daniil was concerned. “Yes, that’s true. And my other coach is Ilya, Misha’s papa. Since Misha’s my choreographer too, and since I missed so much practice due to... other matters, we’ve arranged for him to travel with us to Vancouver for Maple Leaf Classic.”

“A friend of mine is competing in the Maple Leaf. Brett Stafford. He trains at my rink.”

“Yes. I know of him.” Perfect red nails tipped each long elegant finger. She was poised, and taller than the average skater, with a ballerina’s bearing. The one thing that didn’t fit with that picture was her hair. It wasn’t the sleek blond curtain she’d worn on TV, but a riot of blond waves, more like a gypsy than an ice princess. Soft. Untamed. Touchable. And his fingers itched to do it.

“Will you see the other competitions this weekend, or just the pairs?”

“I plan to watch as many as possible, and cheer on all my favorite skaters.”

“Katia Filipova?”

---