Whispers on the Ice Read Free

I’m surprised they have skates that fit her,” Aleksei grumbled, continuing to thumb through his magazine.
    “She just looks small on the ice next to that putz Hanks,” Whittaker growled.
    “Christ, Whittaker, she looks small off the ice too, even without the putz!” Aleksei argued. Remembering their little encounter in Canada that left him with six stitches still rankled and he absently rubbed the small scar on his un-cast leg. Amazingly enough, her furious expression still came to his mind’s eye clearly; her dark green eyes flashing fire, her cheeks blushing darkly, despite her stage make-up, her gorgeous mouth casting aspersions on his heritage and his ineptness that had obviously caused the upheaval. Whittaker’s voice suddenly brought him back from his memories.
    “Still, she’s a beautiful skater; reminds me of Ekaterina Gordeeva when she was younger.”
    “Only smaller, if that’s possible,” Aleksei qualified.
    “I bet she could win Gold with the right partner,” Whittaker stated, steepling his fingers beneath his chin, deep in thought.
    “The Olympics are over three years away. They’d have to make it through U.S., Nationals and World Championships for a berth. Hell has a better chance of freezing over than that happening,” Aleksei stated matter-of-factly.
    “Not with the right partner,” Whittaker re-emphasized.
    “You’re repeating yourself, Whittaker.”
    “Just thinking out-loud.”
    “Mr. Whittaker, visiting hours ended over an hour ago. I’m going to have to insist you leave now. Mr. Rocmanov needs a full night’s sleep if he plans to leave tomorrow,” a very serious, very large nurse stated from the doorway.
    “I was just leaving,” Whittaker stated, nodding good-bye to Aleksei and walking toward the door.
    “His release papers will be signed by ten o’clock. Don’t be late,” The nurse stated firmly.
    “Ten o’clock it is. I won’t be late,” Whittaker agreed and walked away whistling an indistinguishable tune.
    Shaking her head in disapproval, the nurse directed her gaze to Aleksei and smiled in pleasure. “Is there anything I can do for you Mr. Rocmanov?”
    “If it isn’t too much trouble, I sure could use some ice water,” Aleksei asked softly, his lips curving into a sexy smile.
    As usual, the response was immediate. “Of course, Mr. Rocmanov. Is that all?”
    Aleksei’s smile widened to display perfectly straight, gloriously white teeth. “The ice water is more than enough, thank you.”
    With a quick smile of her own, the nurse rushed away to fill his request, her crepe soles squeaking on the gleaming tile floor.
    Aleksei raised his muscled arms over his head and stretched, feeling the tension leave his upper torso for the first time since he’d entered the hospital. Folding his arms and resting his head against them, he closed his eyes and sent a quick, silent prayer heavenward. This time he’d gotten out with his life, but could he count on there being a next time? All of Whittaker’s words crashed and echoed through his mind, replaying over and over. His coach was right—it was time to grow up. Now all he had to worry about was what Whittaker had in store for him over the next twelve weeks and why that pondering expression appeared in Whittaker’s eyes when he’d watched the report on Jordan Jamison?
    With a sudden foreboding, he had the feeling life, as he knew it was about to change. And more drastically that he could ever imagine.
    * * * * *
    “Chanelle Watts?” Jordan whispered in disbelief, horror clearly written on her expressive face.
    “That’s what he said. He feels his chances for Olympic Gold are, how did he put it? ‘Supremely better if his partner is closer in stature and maturity to himself than with a child.’ Or some shit like that,” Mindy growled, stalking about the small office like a caged animal.
    Chanelle Watts had been Jordan’s good friend, up until three years ago when Jordan had introduced her to Bob at a party