"What time are you working out?"
"I have my time on the ice at nine-thirty, so I'll probably go to the gym about six for a run, then have breakfast after that."
"Damn, woman. You're an early riser."
She smiled. "I get a lot more done that way."
"I guess you do. I'm impressed."
He was just full of compliments, wasn't he? And wasn't she just so enamored of him complimenting her? "What time do you get to skate tomorrow?"
"Noon."
"Oh, so you get to sleep in."
"I could, but some of the guys want to meet before that to go over strategy, and we'll get in a weight-lifting workout, too. How about we meet in the gym at six?"
She was surprised he'd make that offer. "You really want to run with me?"
"I really want to run with you. Unless you're one of those people who get in the zone when running and want to do it alone. I can sleep another hour."
If she was smart, she'd tell him to get that extra hour's sleep. "I'd love to have you run with me."
"Great."
Obviously, she wasn't smart.
They got up and Amber grabbed her coat. Will took it from her and held it out for her to slide her arms in.
"Thank you."
He pulled it around her. "Can't have you getting cold. Not around me."
"Trust me, Will, that's not going to happen."
Just being near him rocketed her temp up, especially when he looked at her the way he was now, his eyes going dark with sensual promise.
"Button your coat," he said.
She did and they headed outside toward their buildings. She thought they'd part here, but he walked with her to hers.
She turned when they got to the front door. "Thanks for walking me."
"You're welcome." He moved in closer. "Got your key?"
She fished it out of her pocket and held it out. "I do."
"I'll see you in the gym tomorrow morning," he said.
She thought the way he stood so close that he was going to kiss her. She wasn't sure she was ready for that, but if he did, she wouldn't pull away.
Instead, he stepped back and she had to tamp down the disappointment.
"See you tomorrow, Amber."
"Good night, Will."
He was obviously waiting for her to go inside before he left, so she turned and used her key card in the door, slipped inside, then waved at him before heading to the elevator that would take her to her floor.
She smiled all the way up in the elevator.
FOUR
SIX A.M. RUNS SUCKED, ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU DIDN'T have to get up that early, and especially when you were only doing it to impress a woman.
Sometimes Will was a moron.
But he had to admit that running the indoor track with a gorgeous, sweaty Amber was worth getting up early for. She had on some tight purple cropped sports top along with yellow and purple pants that went just past her knees and looked like they were part of her skin. They outlined her incredible figure. She had an amazing body--toned and fit, and damn the woman had some serious stamina, because as they rounded the start of the track in the middle of mile three, she didn't look ready to quit anytime soon. And if she could keep going, he could, too.
"How are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm doing great," he said through panting breaths. "But if you need to stop . . ."
"No, I'm good. Water break at the end of the next mile, though."
"Sure."
The next mile? How many miles did she intend to run? Sure they were maintaining a fairly slow pace, but still, as they made their way around and finished mile three, Will was feeling it. He hadn't eaten yet and he was starting to get hungry.
"Are you hungry?" he asked as they stopped for water.
"Not yet. I plan to do five miles. If you need to go eat, though, feel free."
"I'm fine." No way in hell was he going to admit defeat. But if he ever ran with her again, he'd need to put down a little protein first. Water wouldn't propel him through five miles.
He pushed through it, though, and afterward, they headed to the cafeteria where he ordered three eggs, bacon, toast, potatoes, fruit and salmon.
Amber had an egg-white omelet and fruit, along with black coffee.
"No wonder you're so slender, he said as he balanced two plates on top of each other. He laid those down and went back for coffee and a large juice.
"And I'd like to know how you're going to eat all of that," she said as she tenderly speared her fork into a grape.
"Easy. I'll burn it all off on the ice later. Not to mention the five miles I already ran."
He dove into his food without saying another word, his stomach demanding retribution for those five punishing miles. Everything tasted amazing, and if Amber hadn't been watching every bite go into his mouth, he might have gone back for seconds. But he could always eat again after he skated.
Meanwhile, Amber delicately tasted every forkful, chewing slowly and thoughtfully with each bite.
"It doesn't bite back, ya know," he said.
She took a small sip of her coffee. "What?"
"Your food. You approach it with caution, like it's going to attack you at any minute."
"Oh." She laughed. "If you eat slowly you get full faster."
"Uh-huh. Sure." He was full now, finally, and he felt great. "Or you can shovel it all in and make your stomach happy."
She laid her fork down. "A full fat stomach doesn't look so awesome in a figure skater's outfit."
"So you're saying I'm fat."
Her gaze roamed over him. He didn't mind that.
"I wouldn't know. I haven't seen your abs."
He leaned back in his chair. "Just say the word and I can make that happen."
"I'll be sure to let you know as soon as I'm interested in getting you naked from the waist up."
"Or the waist down." He gave her a grin, absolutely enthralled by the blush that stained her cheeks.
"Yes, that, too."
Surely she wasn't that innocent, was she? And if she was, he was going to have to watch out for her, because sharks circled the waters here, and he felt protective of Amber.
He liked her. Though since this was her third go-round at the games, she could obviously take care of herself just fine without his help.
Which didn't mean he wouldn't stick close.
"Do your parents come to the games?" he asked.
She nodded. "My mother will be here. She's never missed one of my performances."
"That's pretty awesome."
"Yes it is. My dad will probably come for the finals. He's very busy."
"What does he do?"
"He owns an investment firm. He travels a lot so he can't always watch me skate."
"I'm sure he's very proud of you. It's not every skater who can make the team for the games."
She nodded. "Thanks. What about your parents, Will? Will they be here?"
He shook his head. "My parents own a bar in south Chicago. They can't close it up to come over here, because there's no one else to take over. They'd lose too much money. But you can bet they'll be watching every game on TV."
"There are no other family members to mind the bar?"
"I've got a younger brother still in high school. My parents are both only children. They have great employees, but no one they'd trust enough to leave the bar in their hands. I've offered to pay for them to come, to pay their losses for having the bar closed. But they said no. They're proud people, always wanting to make it on their own."
"That's a shame. But I understand where they're coming from. Still, it's too bad they can't see you play."
"It's okay. They bring in a lot of revenue when the games are on TV there. All our friends come in and watch there. They serve food and tons of drinks. It's great for business."
"I guess that's a good thing, then?"
"For them it's awesome. And it's really okay that they're not here. I get enough cheering from the fans."
She reache
d out and touched his hand. "But you miss your family being here."
He'd reconciled himself to his mom and dad not being there the first time. It was enough that they wanted to come. He knew the realities of their lives. He'd lived his childhood through the rough times, all the times only one parent--or sometimes neither--had showed up at his hockey games. It had become a part of his life. And they'd always supported him, encouraged him and made sure he could do what he loved. He would never make them feel guilty for the choices they made. "It is what it is. They're making what they feel are the right choices for themselves."
"I suppose that's true. Sometimes I wish my mother hadn't been at some of my events."
"A little overbearing?"
She laughed. "She can be at times. Which is why I love being here at the village."
"So you can hide out from her?"
She offered up a serene smile. "It's magical here. I'm on my own. I can make my own decisions without being told what to eat, what to wear, what time to go to bed and who I can or can't see."
"Come on. Surely she's not that bad."
"She's that bad. I know it comes from a place of love. She's a former dancer. She understands discipline and what it takes to be a winner. But sometimes . . ."
She didn't finish the sentence.
"Sometimes you'd just like her to back off and be your mom instead of your coach?"
"Something like that. Aren't your parents the same way?"
He laughed. "Honestly, not at all. My parents taught me a work ethic. You get up in the morning and you show up when you're needed. No one's going to make a success of yourself but you. If you want to win, you push hard. That kind of thing. Hockey is in our blood. My dad played in high school, and my little brother and I were on skates as soon as we could walk. But if I'd wanted to be an accountant or a doctor or anything in between, my parents would have been fine with that, too, as long as we worked hard at whatever we chose, and as long as we loved what we were doing."
Amber dragged in a breath, then let it out. "That's really sweet. To have that kind of support, to know they're always going to have your back, is everything."
He leaned back in his chair. "So what if you decided to give up figure skating like tomorrow, Amber? What would your mother think about that?"
She gave him a straight stare. "I . . . well, I wouldn't give it up. It's just not possible."
"Why? Because you love it, because it's in your blood, or because it's what your mother wants?"
She continued to look at him and he could see her mind working, could feel the emotional knot of tension balling up inside of her.
Finally, she picked up her phone. "Oh, I need to go get ready. It's almost time for me to get on the ice." She stood.
He got up, too. "Sure."
She grabbed her coat. "The run was great. Thanks for coming with me."
"Anytime."
"So, I'll . . . see you later?"
"Yeah. See you later."
She gave him a sweet smile and walked away. He watched her, more curious about her now than ever. He wished she'd opened up more about how she really felt. But she didn't know him well enough to trust him with her feelings yet. He understood that. To her, he was just some guy she'd had breakfast with, that she'd run with. She likely thought he was some random dude--probably one of hundreds she'd met--that was trying to get into her pants.
But he wasn't that guy. He liked her and he could tell she was a ball of tension and nervousness. If she could just let go and be who she wanted to be, she'd be a lot happier.
Then again, who the hell was he to tell her how to live her life? It wasn't like he was some goddamn expert. He really knew nothing about her.
Why did he even care? He'd never cared before about any of the women he met here. Hell, they'd been mostly hookups. Satisfying ones on both sides, but it wasn't like they'd ever delved deeply into their backgrounds. The games were for winning at your sport, and when you weren't competing, you were out having some fun.
So why was he so into Amber? Okay, the why was obvious. She was beautiful. But there was a haunted quality about her that intrigued the hell out of him, too. Admittedly, he was interested in the physical side, for sure. But there was an emotional side to her that he wanted to tap into and get to know. And for Will, that was a damn first.
He should probably bag it and concentrate on the hockey and leave women with baggage alone.
He made a mental note to do just that and grabbed his coat, determined to focus on competing and fun. Nothing more.
FIVE
AMBER STRETCHED, MAKING SURE TO GET HER FULL extensions while she was on the carpet and before she ever put on her skates.
"Did you run this morning?" Valeria asked.
"Of course I did." Her trainer was always on top of her physical routine.
"When was the last time you skated?" Yegor, her coach, asked.
"In Colorado, with you, right before I flew over here. So . . . three days ago?"
Yegor waved his hand in disgust. "Bah. You'll be rusty."
She rolled her eyes. What was she supposed to do? Ice up the aisle on the plane? She loved her coach, but sometimes the man was ridiculous.
"I won't be rusty. I'm never rusty."
"Get on ice," Yegor said. "We'll see."
Now it was her turn to wave her hand. "As soon as I'm done stretching."
"Yes," Valeria said. "Go away, Yegor. We're not finished here."
Yegor glared at Valeria. "And who is in charge?"
Valeria glared back. "Right now? That would be me."
Amber fought back her grin at the two of them arguing. Yegor and Valeria had been married for twenty-five years. They'd been her trainer and coach since she was ten. She loved them both and they were like her second set of parents. In fact, she'd spent more time with Yegor and Valeria than she had with her own parents, so she was used to the two of them bickering with each other, typically over training versus skating. She'd also seen them cry and embrace each other when she won an event.
She adored them, even if on occasion they did get on her last nerve.
She lifted her head and thought about that. Yeah, they really were like her parents.
"Lie down," Valeria said. "We need to stretch your hamstrings."
She lay on her back on the carpet and lifted her left leg, letting Valeria give her a full stretch. "Was it like this for the two of you in Ukraine?"
"Like what?" Valeria asked.
"Always arguing?"
Valeria laughed. "When we skated together, it was even worse. Always the arguing. And you know Yegor, he has the loud voice."
She looked up at Valeria. "Did he make you cry?"
Valeria smirked. "No, he made me yell louder."
Amber laughed. She could see that. Valeria was no shrinking violet. Though she was petite, she possessed both an inner and an outer strength, and Amber had never once seen her back down to Yegor when she thought she was right, especially where Amber was concerned. Valeria watched Amber like a hawk, and when she thought Amber was injured or tired, she'd pull her off the ice for a break or a rub down.
She couldn't have gotten this far, especially the past four years, without either of them. When she'd told them both she wanted to compete again, neither of them hesitated. They had both been completely supportive of her decision. She trusted them implicitly. She knew they had her back, and if either of them felt she wasn't up to the task, either body-wise or talent-wise, they would have told her. That had given her the confidence to take another shot at winning the gold. And both had helped her get ready for the grueling competition.
After Valeria finished, Amber felt limber and ready for the ice. She put on her skates, her adrenaline pumping despite this being nothing more than a practice skate. But it was on the competition ice, and to her, that meant step one in readying herself for this race for the win.
As she laced up her skates, she looked around, sizing up her competitors. Tia was already there, listening to her c
oach talk to her. There was also Olena Brutka from Ukraine, who had come in second in the Worlds last year. She was damn good and Amber had been keeping an eye on her.
Besides, Tia, though, Amber's fiercest competition would be Sasha Petrova of Russia. She had seen Sasha's routine. It was nearly perfect. Sasha was an ice queen who rarely, if ever, made mistakes. She was eighteen, in her skating prime, and everyone was talking as if this was her year.
Amber intended to prove everyone wrong. All she had to do was skate her best, because her routine was without flaws. It was also tough as hell. But if she could pull it off, she stood a solid chance at winning the gold.
The announcers told them to take the ice and her heart skipped a beat.
It's just practice, Amber. Relax.
"Go on," Yegor said, making flapping motions with his hands. "Skate."
She nodded and stepped out onto the ice, gliding along with the other skaters. There was no music, there would be no routines performed today. Instead, she'd limber up and get the feel for the arena, for the way the ice was set up. She started off skating the entire circumference, measuring it in her head so she'd know how much room she had when she performed her routine. Measurement-wise it was the same as any other ice arena she'd performed in, but until she familiarized herself with this one, it was foreign to her. So she went around and around several times until she acclimated, until she could do it with her eyes closed, mentally counting every step.
Once she'd done that, she started to twirl, to skate backward, to ease into her comfort zone. She ignored the other skaters around her as she went into her first jump, a double toe loop, getting a feel for the landing, how the ice felt under her skates.
She felt comfortable. Solid. Secure. That initial jump had felt good, so she tried a double axel and eased out of it with no problem. She didn't perform any of her routine, just glided along the ice and occasionally worked into a jump at various parts of the ice to gain some familiarity.
When it was her turn to get off, she did so reluctantly. She could have spent hours on the ice and she so wanted to work her routine, to see how it felt. But they could only allow six skaters on the ice at a time, so she skated to the base of the gate and stepped off easily.
"How did it feel?" Yegor asked.
She gave Yegor a confident smile. "Like I was at home."
Yegor nodded. "Good. Good. Tomorrow you'll go through routine. Then we'll see."
"How do you feel?" Valeria asked.
"I feel awesome. Limber. No aches or pains."