Destiny's Whisper (26 page)

“A little extra support, that’s all,” Chloe answered calmly, avoiding his eyes and carefully running a pair of scissors beneath the layers of tape, snipping through them.

“That’s a hell of a lot of ‘little extra support’,” Sergei persisted, sitting down beside her on the bench and reaching for her foot. Cautiously he placed it across his lap, her calf muscle resting warmly against his thighs. With gentle fingers, he carefully pulled the tape from her skin. “How bad does it hurt?” he asked quietly, his gaze on her foot and ankle as he continued to remove the tape.

“I could ask the same of you,” Chloe answered softly, feeling his thigh spasm beneath her calf, her eyes watching his hands as he worked the tape gently from her foot. With the magic his hands were working on her as he simply removed the athletic tape from her foot, she wasn’t sure she was even going to survive his touch, platonic as it was. God help her if he should really put his mind to driving her crazy with his touch. Waves of desire built steadily, making her dizzy and breathless. Against her better judgment, she brought forth a memory that had her sighing wistfully as she remembered how Sergei’s touch had driven all conscious thought from her mind. He had made her body burn with a desire so sharp she’d found herself on the edge of a precipice, ready to willingly fall into oblivion; and then his father had walked into the room. The thought still had her the power to make her blush a bright red and she closed her eyes and tried to forget the tingles that ran from her foot to the center of her being at Sergei’s light touch.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine, either.”

“Believe me, the last thing on my mind right now is my leg,” he spoke softly, his voice a deep rumble that sent more sparks shooting through Chloe.

“Oh?” The reply was a weak whisper and she closed her eyes and prayed for strength as she felt Sergei’s hands gently kneading her foot, his warm, firm fingers working their way up her calf.

“Your skin feels like silk; I’ve never felt such softness before,” he marveled, running his fingertips lightly over her leg, smiling as he felt her slight shiver. “Cold?”

She made the mistake of looking into his eyes at his soft question and found herself melting beneath the heat of his ebony gaze. “Hardly. You set me on fire, Sergei,” she moaned breathlessly, her eyes drifting closed as his fingers traced a light path over her cheek.

Effortlessly, he wrapped one arm around her slim waist and lifted her. His other hand gently pulled the leg he’d been massaging around him until she found herself in his lap, facing him, their hips pressed tightly together, the evidence of how she affected him a heated ridge that rested intimately against her center. The muscular arm around her waist shifted across her back and suddenly her breasts melted against the hot steel of his chest, her breath leaving her in a gentle sigh.

“I’ve always had an affinity for fire,” he stated huskily, his eyes holding hers captive.

“Then you’re in the wrong business; you deal in ice,” she whispered, her eyes rolling back as his lips traced a heated path along the line of her neck; gently nipping then kissing the flushed skin.

“Fire and ice have gone together since the beginning of time. Who am I to try to change destiny?” He stated deeply, slipping the shining fabric of her skating dress off her shoulder and tasting of the warm skin.

“Sergei, I can’t think when you do that,” she sighed, her hands unconsciously lifting and wrapping around the bulging muscles of his biceps, her fingers fluttering against his flexing skin.

“You think too much anyway. Stop thinking for a little while,” he suggested, running his hands down the outside of her thighs and gently cupping her bottom before pulling her hips more firmly against his heat.

A deep groan escaped them both at the intense contact and Sergei wondered at the wisdom of this torture. Chloe’s hands were suddenly restless and tugging at the T-shirt that covered his chest; where or when he’d lost his skating vest he couldn’t say. The heat of her hands as they brushed across his chest scorched him; her nails gently scored him, leaving fine trails of white against the tan of his skin.

Sergei’s palms skimmed up Chloe’s sides, his wrists brushing against the rounded outside swell of her breasts, his inconspicuous touch making her nipples peak and ache with an unspoken need. Chloe’s eyes were a midnight blue, Sergei’s a fiery ebony, both glazed with desire, and intent with need. Breathing became nothing more than harsh, shallow gasps as the outside world faded and the small room became their universe.

Sergei’s hands delved into Chloe’s tussled hair, his fingertips leaving a trail of tingles against her scalp, another sensation added to the heap that already threatened to send her shattering into pieces. His heated mouth teased her with kisses across her jaw, pulling away from her seeking lips as she sought to end this tormenting trek. His deep, sultry laugh simply fueled the fire and she shifted her hips, a flare of fire and lightning streaking through her body as she pushed more firmly against his erection.

With a low, earthy moan, Sergei’s mouth reached for Chloe’s, her lips parting in welcome as his tongue delved hotly between her lips and mated with her own in a manner as old as time; their breaths becoming one. Time ceased to exist as the two rocked slowly against each other, their desire beckoning them toward a promise of fulfillment; a vision of paradise. The only sounds that reached them were nothing more than the pounding of their hearts, rushing blood and labored breathing.

Somewhere out of the mindless universe of passion, Sergei recognized a flash of sanity and tried to rein in his raging desire. Fighting against the fire and ecstasy that Chloe’s body offered him, he fought against the overwhelming need to feel himself deep within her warmth; to lose himself in the oblivion of her passion
. Fine time to be gallant, Rocmanov!
he thought to himself, gritting his teeth as he felt Chloe’s wandering hands skimming slowly up his thighs.

“Christ, save me,” he growled, his plead resembling more a curse than a prayer, his voice deeply sensual, his eyes burning brightly as he gripped her seeking wrists and wrapped them around her back, securing them with one hand. “Chloe?” he called to her softly, hoping to break through the haze that left her mindless and squirming against his body.

From miles away she heard her name, a brief whisper in a world of pounding hearts and weightlessness. Her blood boiled through her veins, she felt perched on the edge of an epiphany, eager for the answer, willing to die for it.

“Chloe?” Sergei’s voice called again, more insistent and yet she still felt her body expanding, reaching toward something foreign yet desperately wanted; needed. “Chloe, look at me,” he demanded, his voice deep and dark and slightly dangerous.

Her eyelids felt leaden, and she struggled to open them, blinking at the brightness of the overhead lights. Sergei’s voice drew her attention and she found herself mesmerized by the look of power his dark eyes held; felt his body vibrating beneath her as he sought to control her urgent squirming. Dazedly she realized her hands were trapped behind her back and yet she felt no fear. Instead, an acute awareness as to the way her breasts felt against the heated muscles of his chest speared through her and she wished with all her heart there weren’t two thin layers of cloth separating them. “Dear God, Sergei, what are you doing to me?” she whispered in awe, straining to be closer still to the source of his heat and what she was beginning to think must be hell; nothing in heaven could possibly feel this good! In heaven you felt safe and calm and secure. Right this instant, she felt nothing but heat and madness and need.

“Chloe, you’re killing me,” he gasped, his hand holding her wrists trying to still her, his other hand holding her jaw as his mouth bent over hers and caught it in a carnal kiss, his tongue penetrating her mouth the way he longed to penetrate her body.

Chloe’s body tensed in anticipation as she felt her nerve endings swell and expand; felt a tiny spark flame to life and then steadily grow brighter; stronger. It was harder to breathe, the flames became higher and brighter, moving faster and hotter and she reached toward the heat, willing it closer, demanding it’s devouring power. “Sergei, please.”

He recognized the glazed look in her eyes, mindless, wanton desire, and watched her labored breathing as her breasts jiggled enticingly against his chest. She stood balanced on the edge of oblivion, so close to ecstasy and yet a universe away. “Chloe, open your eyes,” he demanded, his voice a seductively, dark growl.

Dazed eyes, the color of midnight blue, locked on to ebony, unable to look away. Sergei’s hand slipped between their bodies, his fingers pressing against the center of her womanhood as he rocked her firmly against his erection, and felt her climax wash over her as her body began to tremble uncontrollably.

Chloe’s world shattered around her as a wave of release swamped over her, threatening to drown her in its intensity. Bright lights flashed behind her eyes, her breath left her weightless and she went from total exhilaration to complete exhaustion in mere moments as she felt the pounding waves subside into gentle ripples; felt her muscles give way and leave her nothing but a limp doll draped in Sergei’s arms.

Sergei rained soft kisses over her cheeks and temples, nuzzled against her neck as she slowly descended to earth and her eyes finally fluttered open, dazed and yet filled with knowledge.

“You’re right, your hands are magic,” she whispered softly, her voice a mellow drawl, a gentle smile curving her kiss-swollen lips.

Sergei returned her smile, his eyes devouring her face as he memorized the way it looked this very moment: relaxed, fulfilled, loving and, sexy as all hell, all flushed and dewy. As sure as he was sitting here, holding this gorgeous nymph, limp with ecstasy, ready to burst into flames himself, he knew he’d found his soul-mate and his world was complete. “I love you, Chloe,” he whispered reverently, tracing a gentle path down her cheek with one finger, before using that same finger to lift her chin as his mouth moved slowly downward.

Chloe’s hand reached up to cradle Sergei’s jaw, her thumb traced his lower lip and she whispered against his lips, just before they met, “I’ll never love anyone the way I love you, Sergei.”

Their kiss was one of hopes and promises, dreams and wishes, gentle, yet filled with as much passion as any they had shared in the past moments. And when their kiss ended and their arms wrapped around each other, they felt a oneness, and a sense of completeness, they had never thought possible.

This was where they were supposed to be; this was their destiny.

And even Whittaker barging through the doors and bellowing orders didn’t disturb the lover’s reverie as they sat wrapped lovingly and safely in each other’s arms.

CHAPTER 15 

W
hittaker watched the pair skating soundlessly on the ice, ran one hand through his thinning hair and shook his head in confusion. Who were these skaters before him and what had they done with Sergei and Chloe? The skaters he watched now were in perfect harmony, their timing exact, their movements identical; reminiscent of Aleksei and Jordan at the peak of their career, when they had won their Olympic Gold Medal. Most definitely not the skaters he had coached yesterday! With another confused look, he shook his head.

Aleksei’s silent approach and his sudden clap of camaraderie on Whittaker’s shoulder had his old coach jumping in surprise and growling a question if it was his intent to give him a heart attack today. Aleksei’s quietly stated, “Of course not,” assured him it was not, yet the deep laugh held a hint of wickedness and Whittaker’s scowl told him he didn’t believe his words.

The two men watched the pair skate through their program, the romantically powerful music of Scheherazade filling the air, bringing forth images of sultans and harems and Arabian nights. Aleksei’s eyebrows raised in surprise as he watched his son lift Chloe effortlessly into the air and hold her there, supporting her with only one arm. Turning soundlessly in tight three-turns, they traveled down the length of the ice, not losing any of their forward momentum, until he finally returned her gently to the ice.

The look Aleksei cast Whittaker was filled with questions; Whittaker’s answer was a bewildered shrug. Returning his gaze to the ice, Aleksei stood in awe as he watched the pair execute a monstrous throw triple axel that had Chloe soaring through the air before she landed almost twenty feet away from Sergei. She held her landing perfectly and glided in a beautiful backward spiral before her partner returned to her side.

“Wow!” Aleksei mumbled, shaking his head in wonder.

“My thoughts exactly,” Whittaker agreed.

“You’ve been holding out on me, old friend. They didn’t look like that last week.”

“They didn’t look like that yesterday either!” Whittaker snorted, watching the pair’s death spiral that had given them nothing but fits yesterday flow in perfect harmony with the wistful music, looking as if they’d been doing the move together for years, their position everything Whittaker could have wanted and more. “I’d really like to know what the hell’s going on. Yesterday they could barely skate together without tripping over each other.”

“So what’s different about today?” Aleksei asked.

“Beats the hell out of me,” Whittaker offered with a shake of his head.

The two watched as Sergei and Chloe finished the program and slid to a stop in their final positions. Chloe pulled close to Sergei, their hips meeting and she stood looking up into his smiling eyes, his left hand gently cradling her cheek; her right hand covering his. Sergei’s right arm wrapped around her back, holding her left wrist captive at the small of her back. Sergei’s long legs were spread apart, his stance bespeaking arrogance, and Chloe was pulled firmly between his feet, her left leg extended gracefully behind her.

Sergei’s unheard comment had Chloe suddenly laughing and trying to pull from his grasp, only to find herself pulled firmly against his chest and the recipient of a heated, quick kiss.

Two sets of eyebrows suddenly lifted in surprise and Aleksei and Whittaker exchanged bewildered glances.

“Well now, that answers a lot of questions,” Whittaker mumbled to himself, “Just what I need, another Rocmanov in heat! It wasn’t bad enough I had to deal with you and Jordan, now I get to do it all over again with these two? I’m too old for this shit!” he growled, pacing back in forth in a figure eight.

“Maybe this is just a one-time deal. You know, they were just happy they skated a clean program and it’s a congratulatory kiss?” Aleksei offered hopefully, choosing to ignore the astonished look that Whittaker threw at him.

“Tell me that asinine comment didn’t just fall out of your mouth?” Whittaker pleaded, shaking his in disbelief. “If you’d seen them the way I did last night, you wouldn’t be making such idiotic statements!”

Aleksei closed his eyes and groaned softly, his imagination running wild. If Sergei felt anything even remotely close to how he had felt about Jordan all those years before, he might as well throw up his hands in defeat. “I don’t think I want to hear this.”

“Better to hear about it than see it! At least you didn’t walk in on them!” Whittaker stated gruffly, a light flush turning his cheeks pink.

Aleksei couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry at Whittaker’s embarrassment. Almost nothing embarrassed the gruff, old fart and yet here he was, turning pink in the cheeks and stammering. It had to have been a pretty explicit scene to have Whittaker reacting this way.

“Exactly what did you walk in on?”

Whittaker’s hands raked through his thinning hair as he cast quick glances from the ice where Sergei and Chloe were skating a cool-down and simply circling the ice, holding hands; their fingers intertwined, to Aleksei, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest, looking at him expectantly.

“I’m not exactly sure,” he began.

“Whittaker,” Aleksei growled, his patience running thin. “I’m not getting any younger. Did you see something that might be construed in a less than favorable manner? If there’s an issue that could cause a problem, I need to be aware of it. You know Manning’s looking for any excuse to make trouble for the two of them.”

Whittaker did know; both Sergei and Aleksei had kept him fully apprised of everything that Manning had said, done, or for that matter, insinuated or implied. It wasn’t any secret that Manning was looking to ruin both Sergei and Chloe’s reputations, if possible, their careers, and Aleksei knew when hormones ran wild and emotions came into play, it was simply a matter of where and when the disaster took place. Aleksei was determined to see that Sergei and Chloe had the chance to prove themselves to the world, but he couldn’t do it if he didn’t know what was going on.

“For Christ’s sake, Aleksei, they’re in love! They’re as much in love as you and Jordan were when you quit ‘hating’ each other!” Whittaker’s sudden burst of emotion had Aleksei blinking in surprise.

“You never called it ‘love’, as far as you were concerned, it was just ‘lust’!”

“Yeah, well that was then and this is now.”

“Whittaker, you’re making me crazy!” Aleksei growled, sweeping both hands through his hair.

“Welcome to the damn club; it’s about time I had some company! I’ve spent the last few weeks feeling like I needed a black and white striped shirt with an ‘R’ in the middle of my back, and a whistle hanging around my neck trying to keep these two from tearing each other apart. Talk about name-calling and dirty looks. Christ, I thought you and Jordan were bad? Let me tell you, you two were a couple of cupcakes, compared to them,” Whittaker stated, nodding his head toward the pair as they skated past.

Aleksei watched the pair on the ice, a small frown appearing between his eyes, “And you said that even as of yesterday, their skating was off?”

“I don’t know if I’d use the word ‘off ’, but they weren’t in sync. Technically they were more than holding their own, but their skating was missing–I don’t know–emotion, intensity, finesse. You saw them today. They looked as if they’ve been partners for years. They’re skating with passion and style and as much as I hate to say it, a power and intensity I haven’t seen since you and Jordan took the Gold at the Olympics more years ago than a polite gentleman would mention.”

“So what happened between yesterday and today?”

Whittaker shook his head back and forth, “Beats the hell out of me. All I know is after I left them, at your summons I might remind you, when I got back, I walked in on them in the locker room and there was a decidedly different feeling in the air.”

Aleksei’s confused look spoke more than words.

Whittaker scratched his head as he tried to put his thoughts into words, his fingers sending his thinning hair into haphazard little puffs. “I don’t know how to describe it, it was just different.”

“Different how? Were they arguing? Were they laughing? Were they talking?” Aleksei fired off.

Whittaker’s knowing chuckle had Aleksei closing his eyes and dreading what was about to come out of his coach’s mouth. “Oh, they were talking all right. They were talking in a language older than time.”

“Tell me their relationship hasn’t gone beyond kisses and holding hands,” Aleksei pleaded, his gaze encompassing the pair on the ice, his eyes narrowing as he watched his son pick Chloe up in his arms and dip and sway as he skated, her gentle laughing flowing over the air.

“If you’re asking were they doing the
nasty dance
when I walked in, the answer’s no. But she was sitting on his lap, snuggled up as close as she could get without being in his pocket and draped over him like Alfredo sauce over pasta, all flushed and humming, with an entirely all too satisfied smile on her face.”

“Please tell me they were dressed,” Aleksei pleaded.

“That they were! Sergei was fully dressed, if you catch my drift, with his pants straining at the seams, the veins in his temples throbbing, along with something else, and a glazed, frustrated look in his eyes.”

“Hell,” Aleksei growled, chewing on the inside of his cheek. They didn’t need this distraction now. Things were getting crazier by the minute with Manning Senior suddenly throwing more insinuations their way. If Sergei and Chloe had actually consummated their relationship in a physical manner, and either Andrew or his father got wind of it, God only knew what claims they would make against Sergei. Aleksei was going to prevent that, regardless of what it took to do it. If it came down to always having a third person with them at all times; so be it. The stakes had suddenly changed and it was no longer just a matter of keeping Chloe safe from the terror Andrew threatened, but keeping all of them safe from the vindictiveness of the Manning family. “I don’t want them left alone together-ever!” Aleksei demanded, his tone leaving no room for questions.

“What am I now–a damn baby-sitter?” Whittaker complained.

“If that title floats your boat, then by all means, use it,” Aleksei offered, casting a glance toward the pair on the ice. “I want them– and you–up at the house in fifteen minutes. I refuse to allow some fat-ass politician with an abusive son turn my family’s name to crap. Everyone needs to be on the same page and we can’t be if everyone isn’t aware of exactly what’s going on.”

“Got something in mind?” Whittaker asked slyly, smiling at Aleksei’s vain attempt to control a smile that turned smug.

“Don’t I always?” Aleksei’s answer was simple and to the point.

Whittaker’s hands clapped together joyfully and he practically danced with glee. “Damn, I love it when you get that look in your eye!”

“Remember that when you’re baby-sitting.” Aleksei suggested and with a final glance at Sergei and Chloe, tapped his watch, “Fifteen minutes!”

“I’ll get it,” Dani called as she bounced down the last of the stairs and opened the door only a few seconds after the doorbell had sounded. A small frown appeared between her eyes to find no one there and she stepped out onto the porch, looking down the long walkway that showed no sign of anyone. With a confused shake of her head, she turned and headed back across the porch and that was when she noticed the plain manila envelope leaning against the door frame.

Casting another look over her shoulder, she picked up the envelope and with only a moment’s hesitation, peeked inside.

Photographs. Nothing new there. Photographs were always being delivered to the house, especially when a benefit was in the making and with seven months until the Christmas benefit that had become a Rocmanov family tradition, in all likelihood these were the proofs for the new promotional pictures they’d have to choose from.

Dancing with excitement, Dani pulled out the stack of pictures and found herself face to face with pictures that had absolutely nothing to do with skating. Close up shots of Sergei and Chloe, wearing nothing but orgasmic expressions and each other filled the colored pages she held. Silently she shuffled through the numerous pictures; confusion causing her to squint as she turned one picture upside down and tried to figure out exactly what she was looking at.

So engrossed in the pictures was she that she didn’t hear Sergei and Chloe’s approach until they were upon her.

“What’s so interesting?” Sergei asked casually, looking over her shoulder, his expression growing black as he spotted the picture Dani had been trying to figure out.

“I’m not sure which way it’s supposed to go,” she offered calmly.

Chloe’s gasp of disbelief as she looked at another offending shot, had her blushing a deep red and struggling to breathe.

“Shit!” Sergei growled, quickly thumbing through the pictures that Dani had handed him, his hands shaking as rage began to race through his body.

“This isn’t possible,” Chloe finally managed to gasp, covering her face with her hands and leaning her forehead against Sergei’s shoulder, his body vibrating in anger.

“I wouldn’t sweat it,” Dani suggested lightly with an easy shrug, holding the manila envelope out to Sergei and wiggling it until he dropped the handful of distasteful pictures into it.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Sergei growled heatedly, his dark eyes filled with fire. Without even thinking, he pulled Chloe gently into his arms and whispered words of comfort into her hair.