Whispers on the Ice (5 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Moynihan

BOOK: Whispers on the Ice
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CHAPTER 4  

Aleksei cast occasional glances at Jordan as she worked on the stair-master, grimacing as he turned the page of the People magazine he was reading while he shifted position on the hard folding chair.

“You’d think Whittaker could have scrounged up a more comfortable chair for me to sit on. I’ve been on this damn thing for eight weeks,” He growled.

Jordan’s look, a mixture of amusement and disgust, stated clearly that she would trade places with him in a minute. For the last eight weeks, she’d continued her daily regiment, both on and off the ice, alternately wishing she were the one on the cold, hard chair and knowing what lay ahead for Aleksei when the cast came off. The brief stint she’d experienced with a removable cast when she stress fractured her left ankle had side-lined her for three weeks (actually two weeks, three days, but she hedged on the time-frame) had nearly driven her crazy. At least she’d been able to remove the cast and sleep decently. Aleksei, on the other hand, hadn’t the luxury of removal, despite the threatened self-removal with an electric knife, and the dark circles beneath his eyes stated clearly his sleep was anything but peaceful.

“You just keep in mind how much you hate that chair when they take that boat anchor off your leg. You may decide it’s not so bad being sidelined and find yourself another mountain to jump off of,” Jordan groaned in relief, silencing the buzzer that announced this portion of her workout over.

Aleksei raised one eyebrow sardonically, throwing the towel that she had draped over his cast leg to her and dropping the magazine to the floor. “I can’t imagine being side-lined another day. The last thing I intend to do is ‘find myself another mountain to jump off of!’” he growled, pushing himself easily up and limping over to where she leaned against the wall. Wiping her face dry and draping the towel around her neck, the ends rested loosely against the damp, pink skin of her chest, enticingly displayed by the scoop neck of her leotard.

Aleksei’s gaze was drawn to a lone drop of sweat that left a trail of moistness as it coursed its way down her long neck and ever closer to the swelling cleavage displayed above her leotard. Unconsciously, he licked suddenly dry lips as his mind brought the image of his tongue following the same path as the slowly moving drop of moisture to his mind, making his breath slow and shallow. Jordan’s repeated question finally drew his attention.

“What?” he mumbled, shaking his head to clear the picture from his mind.

“I said, when does that thing come off?” she inquired again, nodding toward the cast, then stretching around him to retrieve her water bottle from the table he leaned against. The softness of her leotard-clad breast as it brushed against his shoulder made him grind his teeth in building frustration.

“Not that I’m anxious, but one hour and thirteen minutes, give or take a few seconds,” he answered, glancing quickly at the gold watch he always wore, a gift from Whittaker.

Jordan laughed softly, the sound sweet and carefree. “You won’t miss it?” she teased, giving the cast a fond pat.

“About as much as I miss single beds.”

I didn’t know you knew there was such as a thing as a single bed,” Jordan questioned haughtily; raising deep green eyes to meet Aleksei’s calm, dark ones.

“I’m perfectly aware there are such things, I just happen to prefer a bed with more room.”

“Yeah, I don’t suppose your friends would appreciate having to share a small sleeping area.”

“When I have friends sharing my ‘sleeping area’, they generally aren’t sleeping!” Aleksei taunted, chucking her chin as if she were a two-year old.

“Hands off!” Jordan complained and swatted his hand away. “You may have another hour and thirteen minutes to screw off, but I’ve still got arms to do.” and off she walked to the next torture machine.

“Why don’t you hold off on
arms
and let me get a few lifts in. That way you can’t complain that I didn’t do anything today,” Aleksei suggested, limping over to a large mat set before a wall of mirrors.

Carefully he lowered himself to the mat, removed his sweatshirt leaving only a cut-off T-shirt that showed off his muscle-toned stomach and laid on his back, stretching his arms over his head, displaying even more of his wash-board stomach. Jordan watched him quietly, frowning when he looked expectantly her way and stated, “Well?”

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to get all sweaty when you’re going to the doctor in an hour? The nurses really don’t deserve that kind of treatment.”

“Stop stalling. I promise I won’t
sweat
,” Aleksei growled, snapping his fingers impatiently.

Jordan slowly made her way to him, stepped carefully over his legs to straddle his narrow hips, then cautiously dropped to a kneeling position and leaned forward to place her hands on the floor above his shoulders.

“Ready?” Aleksei inquired, a devilish gleam in his dark eyes as he stretched his neck backward to allow his eyes to meet hers.

“You’re running out of time,” Jordan hissed, her mood growing surlier by the moment. “Do it or get the hell away from me.”

“My, but aren’t we suddenly cranky. Forget your coffee today?” Aleksei teased, grasping her hips securely and easily lifting her upward.

Jordan gasped in surprise at her sudden loss of balance and grasped the hands holding her hips. “I wasn’t ready,” she complained.

“You’re the one who told me to hurry. It’s not my fault you weren’t prepared,” he stated nonchalantly. “Arch your back, your balance is too far forward,” he suggested, watching their form in the mirror on his left.

Jordan immediately did as instructed lifting her chin upward and arching slightly, her legs crossed tightly at the ankles, her arms beautifully spread.

“That’s it,” Aleksei said, approving of the beautiful lines her petite figure made. “Now if we can get it on the ice.”

“We’ll see soon enough,” Jordan stated, glancing at their reflection in the mirror.

“Ready for motion?” Aleksei asked, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror.

Jordan nodded and maintained her position as he easily lowered her until their bodies nearly touched, her breasts perilously close to his face, then reversed his movement and pushed her into the air. Jordan watched their movements in the mirror, her mouth suddenly going dry and her breath catching.

Aleksei watched their movement also.

As clear and bright as the blue of a summer sky, his thoughts played as clearly in his mind as if he were watching a movie. His eyes darkened as he felt the warmth of her beneath his hands and became aware he had only to turn his head slightly and her breasts would brush his lips. The sudden rush of heat at the thought of such a thing baffled him and he pushed her upward faster than planned, his hands losing their firm hold on her. With a small shriek, Jordan lost her position, arms flailing wildly the short distance to fall solidly on Aleksei. His own breath whooshed out of him as their hips met squarely, her legs coming to rest between his spread legs, her soft breasts melting against the heat and strength of Aleksei’s chest. Jordan’s forehead fell forward into the curve of Aleksei’s neck, the soft material of his T-shirt caressing her cheek. His intoxicating fragrance, slightly spicy and all male, made her close her eyes to fight the dizzying sensation that threatened to overwhelm her. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps.

Aleksei fared no better. Her softness melted against him. The sudden thought that she didn’t look this soft crossed his mind and he smiled as he remembered comments from friends about her being nothing more than a piece of wood, hardwood at that! A lot they knew. It was all he could do not to grab her sweetly rounded butt and grind his hips against her own. That would certainly add another dimension to their barely restrained civility. Here he’d been hoping they could find a middle ground on which to build a working relationship and suddenly the thought of ripping her tight little leotard off her was uppermost in his mind. Definitely time to hit the showers.

“Are you okay?” he finally managed to gasp out, shaking his head to clear the disturbing path his thoughts lead him, his breathlessness betraying his deeply intoned question.

Jordan answered with a small nod, her eyes wide, afraid to speak let alone move. She didn’t even want to address the feeling of rightness as she lay sprawled full length, or at least all she could reach of him, her blood raging through her veins even as she tried to steady her erratic breathing and thundering heartbeat.

“You’re sure?” he asked again, closing his eyes as she moved her cheek against his shoulder, her hair brushing his face, the remnants of the soft fragrance she wore teasing his senses.

Again she nodded. But still she didn’t move.

Aleksei couldn’t stand much more of this. His steely determination to remain still was rapidly disintegrating. His need to touch her, everywhere, was becoming perilously close to overwhelming. He flexed his hands at his sides in an effort to release some of the tension surging through his body. “Jordan?” he questioned softly, deeply.

Finally she spoke. “Yes?” she whispered her voice husky and unsteady, a warm caress against his neck. Still she remained perfectly still.

“Can you move?”

“I think so…but I’m not sure.”

Aleksei rolled his eyes in frustration; his hands desperate to touch her resumed their frantic flexing. “What do you mean you’re not sure?” he asked, his frustration deepening his voice yet another notch.

“I mean I’m not sure!” she hissed softly, a gentle moan escaping her parted lips when his hands finally could resist no longer and came to rest on the outside of her rib cage, his thumbs settling perilously close to her breasts.

“Then let me help you,” Aleksei offered, lifting her up and off him slightly, his breath catching as her legs tangled with his as he eased her to one side. Without thought he followed her until he found himself hovering over her, his spread legs entrapping hers, his elbows supporting his weight. Beneath him, she looked like a small child.

Jordan kept her eyes closed, afraid to look at him, unsure what she would see. She only knew she couldn’t bear to see amusement or disinterest. It was safer to keep her eyes closed, to keep her dreams to herself. Now was the time to regain control of her breathing and her pounding heart.

“Jordan.” The whispered word caressed her face, scattering all thoughts of regaining any sort of control. Slowly her eyes glided open to reveal the mysterious deep green of an enchanted forest.

Aleksei’s mind went blank, the earlier image picking up where it had left off, drawing him ever closer to Jordan’s flame.

“Dear God,” Aleksei gasped huskily, his body melting deeper into hers, one hand lifting to slide into her tangled, auburn curls.

Slowly he lowered his head toward hers, his lips parting slightly as his tongue wetted dry lips. Her own lips parted in answer as she watched his mouth slowly descend, holding her breath as she awaited the moment she would finally feel his full lips on hers. Time stood still, blood pounded through their veins; everything around them faded into an out of focus collage. Jordan lifted her chin slightly as Aleksei’s lips dropped the final distance to her awaiting mouth. Their breaths blended, their eyes held then drifted shut, their lips whispered together.

A door slammed loudly against the wall!

“Aleksei, it’s time to get that damn boat anchor removed. Off your ass, and out the door!” Whittaker bellowed, then turned around and left, the door slamming closed behind him.

Jordan and Aleksei broke apart instantly, Aleksei rolling off her, sitting up and placing his back to her. Jordan sat up, the mirror reflecting Aleksei’s stiff posture and her own wide-eyed countenance and ragged breathing. Jordan watched as Aleksei got easily to his feet, despite the full leg cast then turned to her and silently helped her to her feet. Without a word, Aleksei turned and limped from the room, silently acknowledging Jordan’s ‘good luck’ with a nod. The only outward sign of his frustration was the resounding sound as both doors he exited through slammed against the walls.

“I second that motion,” Jordan mumbled, then headed back toward the stair-master. Even a cold shower wouldn’t take care of the torrent of sexual frustration rushing through her now. Hopefully, sheer exhaustion would do the trick. “Come to mama,” she growled and punched in the settings on the machine. “Mt. Everest ought to do the trick!” she growled and proceeded to begin her climb.

* * * * *

Aleksei reclined casually on the examining table; his head resting on his crossed arms, as the nurses carefully sawed the cast from his leg, laughing easily at some joke he’d told, their work seemingly undisturbed.

“How’s the leg look?” Whittaker asked the doctor, nodding toward the x-ray the doctor was reviewing.

“Very good—but I wouldn’t expect any quads out of him for at least another nine months, maybe a year,” the doctor suggested, sliding the x-ray off the screen and into an envelope.

“That won’t be a problem—his quad days are over,” Whittaker stated factually. “In fact—his singles days are over. He became half of a pair six weeks ago.”

“I’d read something to that effect in the newspaper. But I’ve discovered you can’t always believe what you read,” the doctor quipped.

“Well this time they got it right. He’s now part of Jamison and Rocmanov,” Whittaker explained.

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