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“I’m well, thanks.” She beamed at me. “And, how are you? Who is this handsome young man?”

  “Oh, this is James,” I said, turning back to him. “James, this is Emmaline. She usually works the early shift, so we’ve been getting to know each other.”

  “Lovely to meet you, ma’am,” James said, shaking her hand.

  “He’s a keeper,” Emmaline said as she pointedly looked James up and down.

  “That’s enough of that,” I told her.

  “Okay, okay.” She winked at me. “I’d better get back to the kitchen. You want anything special for breakfast tomorrow?”

  “You spoil me,” I said. “Whatever is on the menu will be fine.”

  “I’ll make you waffles.” Emmaline nodded. “You need carbs. All of that skating and no carbs.”

  She walked off, and I couldn’t help smiling after her. She’d been so sweet to me since the day I’d met her. Everyone who worked in the camp was nice, but Emmaline and I had hit it off so well, she’d just become special to me.

  James and I walked the line together, picking out food, and when we got the cashier, he insisted on paying for me. Then he carried our trays back the table.

  “This is Mike,” James said, setting down the trays and waving a hand dismissively toward the man he’d been talking to earlier. “He’s my coach.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. I reached over James to shake Mike’s hand. “Cordelia Quinn.”

  “I’ve heard,” Mike said. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “You’ve heard?” I looked over at James and smiled. “All good things, I hope.”

  “I don’t know you well enough to know anything bad about you,” James admitted. “Maybe, we can change that today.”

  “Well, I have to be back on the ice in a couple of hours,” I admitted.

  Not that I wanted to go back. I was frustrated with the training and more than a little angry at Charlie. He worked me so hard I was starting to worry I’d be too exhausted to compete effectively. Something had to give. Even if I had to call my mom and tell on him.

  “You know you’re allowed to have fun, right?” James asked. His tone was teasing, but his eyes were narrowed as if he were upset.

  “I am having fun. Here we are, together, eating lunch and getting to know each other. You’re not having fun?”

  “I certainly never said that,” he argued.

  “Okay, well, can we drop it then? Please? Yes, I train a lot. And yes, I’m kind of tired and pretty crabby, not to mention starving. So, can we eat and maybe not talk about work stuff?”

  “What? Like regular people?” James asked. “I don’t know what normal humans talk about.”

  “Fair enough.” I picked up my fork and stabbed at my steamed carrots. “Where are you from?”

  “Minnesota,” he answered. “So, the weather here is just like home. I’m loving that.”

  “Mmm,” I agreed, my mouth still full.

  “You eat; I’ll talk. I got into snowboarding when I was six years old, and by time I was ten, my parents knew I had something. They got me a coach, and by fourteen, I was already competing nationally. Then I got my first three Winter Games gold at sixteen. Then two more at twenty. Now, I’m aiming for just the Parallel.”

  “Why, though?” I asked. “You’re amazing out there. You could probably get gold in the Halfpipe and the Cross, too. Why limit yourself to just the one?”

  “Wow, you know your snowboarding.” He sounded impressed.

  “I know some stuff,” I said vaguely. I didn’t have the guts to admit I just really knew him.

  “Mostly, I think I’ll do better sticking to one event. I could probably medal in the others, but I don’t want to settle for less than gold.”

  I nodded, completely understanding that sentiment. Taking silver at the last games had been great, really. But there will always be a part of me that knows, if I’d done better by just an inch, I’d have been at the top of the podium.

  We finished our lunch, and Mike offered to clear up for us so we could go have some time alone.

  James led me outside then took my hand in his as we walked through campus. A few people waved to us, but we were pretty much left alone to talk.

  “So, what about you?” he asked as we stopped to look out over a rink where some guys were playing a pick-up game of hockey. “What’s your story?”

  “It’s not exciting,” I assured him. “I’ve been in skates since I could walk. My Uncle Charlie, my coach, has trained some of the best skaters in the world. He’s been working with me my whole life. I competed in a ton of local events when I was a kid, and the last Winter Games were my first international. That’s about it.”

  “That’s it?” He looked at me. “Your whole life story in a single breath.”

  “James, I really haven’t done much,” I said, fearing I sounded really young. I knew he wasn’t that much older than me, but it was possible the age gap was enough that he’d lived a lifetime more than I had.

  “Like I said, you need to take time for some fun.”

  “I have fun,” I lied.

  “Come boarding with me.”

  “What?” I stared at him. “I can’t snowboard.”

  “Well, not yet,” he countered. “That’s why I’ll teach you. You’ll have a blast.”

  “James, I can’t.” I stared down at our hands, still locked together. “What if I get hurt?”

  “Okay,” he agreed. “After the games. Come to Minnesota. We’ll play in the snow, you’ll meet my mom, we can eat chicken wings and drink beer and celebrate the end of the cycle.”

  “You’re crazy! I can’t just come to Minnesota.”

  “Why not?”

  Well, I didn’t know, actually. I mean, I didn’t have anything else going on in my life really. There was nothing keeping me from going wherever I wanted. Doing whatever I wanted.

  The very first bit of rebellion I’d ever experienced lodged itself into my heart. I was a fucking adult, and I could go to parties or fly to Minnesota or…or…kiss a boy.

  “Cordelia? Are you all right?”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, licking my lower lip and staring into his bright blue gaze. “Just, um, thinking. Sorry. Yes. I mean, maybe. Maybe, yes, I will come to Minnesota.”

  What the fuck was that?

  “Great?” James made it a question. Apparently, he had no idea if I’d agreed or not, either.

  “Can you walk me back to my dorm?” I asked. “I really need to get some ice on my legs and lie down.”

  “Of course,” he agreed. “Are you sore? Do you need me to carry you?”

  “No, I don’t—“ Before I could finish arguing, I’d been swept into his arms and he was striding toward my rooms. “Are you crazy?”

  “You literally weigh nothing,” he said, bouncing me and making me squeal.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and laughed at the absurdity of it. But damn, it felt good to be held by him.

  If I wasn’t careful, I’d fall in love with this guy.

  Chapter Four

  ~ James ~

  I was totally in love with this girl.

  I don’t know how it happened so fast, but my God, I never wanted to let her go. Who makes friends with the kitchen help in a crowded cafeteria? Cordelia Quinn, that’s who. The woman who could make anyone in a room feel special.

  As I carried her back to her room, I thought about kicking in her door and carrying her tiny body straight to bed. I wanted to capture her lips with mine and never bother to come up for air again.

  Ugh, I was so screwed.

  “You can put me down, now,” she teased when we reached her dorm.

  “I don’t know,” I argued. “I should probably put you safely into bed.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think I’d be all that safe with you in my bedroom,” she said.

  She may have meant it as a joke, but her gaze darkened just enough to make me realize I wasn’t alone in the naked thoughts currently running through my mind.
>
  I set her on her feet but kept my hands on her hips. She stared up at me, her lips slightly parted, and her eyes wide.

  “I’m going to kiss you,” I told her. “Then I’m going to walk away. Because I’m afraid if I taste your sweet lips, I won’t be able to control myself in your presence for long.”

  “Okay,” she agreed. “But first, I want you to promise me something.”

  “Anything.”

  “Meet me at the cafeteria at four Thursday morning.”

  “What?” I looked at her, unsure what she was getting at. “They don’t even open until five-thirty.”

  “Will you trust me?” she begged.

  “Sure. Yeah, I’ll meet you at four, day after tomorrow.”

  “Great,” she said. “Bring your skates.”

  “What makes you think I have skates?” I asked, pulling her tighter against me, reminding her there were kisses to be had.

  “You’re a white guy from Minnesota,” she answered with a shrug. “Of course, you have skates.”

  “Fair enough,” I agreed.

  “Great. Now, where’s my kiss?” She tilted her face up to me, her tongue darting out across her lower lip. She looked…nervous.

  I cupped her face in my hands and pressed my mouth to hers. She opened to me, and I delved inside, tasting the sweetness of her lips. I could have drowned in the pleasure of her pressed to me, but I broke away, stepping back to try to hide my body’s reaction to her.

  Delia’s fingers went to her kiss-swollen lips, and she smiled against them.

  “That was lovely,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome?” I looked at her, trying to figure out what was happening right now.

  “It was my first kiss,” she said, answering the question I hadn’t been able to ask. “And it was perfect.”

  “Have a good nap, Delia,” I said, my voice hoarse.

  “Thanks.”

  I watched her walk inside then close the door behind her. It took a minute for my brain to start firing again so I could remember how to walk.

  Her first kiss? How was that even possible? She was a young, beautiful, world-famous athlete. Men had to be tripping over themselves to go out with her. She could have her pick of any man in the world. And she’d allowed me the gift of being the first to taste those sweet lips?

  I walked back to my dorm in a fog, thoughts of her swirling through my mind. If I was her first kiss, I would be her first everything. And I’d make damn sure I was her only.

  * * * *

  Thursday morning, when my alarm went off at three a.m., it took me a few seconds to remember why the hell I’d set it so early. Once I did, I leapt out of bed, thrilled at the prospect of spending more time with Cordelia.

  I’d missed her yesterday, which was weird. I’d spent most of the day on the hills, trying to keep myself occupied without her. How had she become so entrenched in my heart so quickly?

  I showered and got dressed then dug around for my skates. I’d tossed them into the closet after a pick-up hockey game with some of the guys from the U.S and Canada teams who had been screwing around at the outdoor rink the week before.

  The International Games were the best time of my life. I got to meet people from all over the world, play with and against top-tier athletes, and now, I was going to get the most beautiful girl on the planet to fall in love with me.

  When I reached the cafeteria, Cordelia was already waiting for me. Her eyes lit up when she saw me, and my heart swelled. Maybe, she was already falling for me, too.

  “What the hell kind of time is this?” I asked, pulling her into my arms and kissing her lightly. “Only crazy people are awake this early.”

  “You outdoor gamers are all the same,” she teased, rolling her eyes. “If the sun isn’t up, you don’t have to move. Is that it?”

  “Pretty much,” I agreed. “What are we doing here?”

  “I need to get something from Emmaline before we head over to the rink,” she said.

  She knocked on the door, and sure enough, the lovely woman I’d met the other day opened it and ushered us inside.

  “You’re too good to that man,” Emmaline scolded Delia.

  “No, he’s good to me,” Delia argued. “Extra marshmallows, please.”

  In confusion, I looked between the two of them. I didn’t think they were talking about me, but I had no idea what was going on right now.

  Emmaline bustled off then returned a minute later with a large Styrofoam cup. She handed it to Cordelia, and they hugged quickly before Delia led me back toward the exit.

  “Lovely to see you again, ma’am,” I told Emmaline as she followed us.

  “You, as well.” The woman beamed at me.

  Cordelia walked outside, and before I could follow her, Emmaline grabbed my arm.

  “Take care of her,” she whispered. “She’s a very special young woman, but I don’t think she realizes it.”

  “She’s the most precious thing in the world, ma’am,” I told her honestly. “I won’t ever let anything happen to her.”

  Emmaline smiled and patted my cheek before pushing me out the door and shutting it behind me.

  “What was that?” Cordelia asked when I caught up to her.

  “She told me to marry you,” I answered with a shrug.

  “She did not!” Delia turned and gazed at me, her beautiful eyes wide.

  “Not in those words,” I admitted. “But I think I got the gist.”

  “You’re crazy.” She giggled and reached for my hand with her free one. “Come on. I don’t want this to get cold.”

  We walked to the indoor rink and I pulled on the door handle, half-expecting it to be locked this early in the morning, but it swung right open. I ushered Delia inside and followed, letting her take the lead since I had no idea what we were doing here. I mean, skating obviously since she’d made me bring my skates, but I didn’t really understand why. Nor could I figure out why it had to be so damn early.

  “Pierre!” Cordelia called out as she walked down the steps toward the rink. The lights were all on, and so was the heat, but it didn’t look as if anyone else was there.

  “Delia!” a man called back, his voice loud and deep, echoing through the building.

  The man in question, Pierre I assumed, hurried out of a small office, his arms already open to receive a hug from my girl.

  She obliged immediately, kissing his cheek before handing him the cup and smiling.

  “You spoil me,” he said, grasping the cup in both hands and inhaling. “Extra marshmallows?”

  “Of course,” she assured him. “Emmaline insists.” She turned to me and beamed. “Pierre, this is James. James, this is Pierre. He runs…well, everything here. He’s been opening the rink early for me, so I bring him hot chocolate to thank him.”

  “I’d do it anyway,” Pierre admitted, reaching over to shake my hand. “I love to watch her skate.”

  Cordelia blushed and made a dismissive gesture with her hand. She took off her coat, gloves and scarf, dropping them onto a bench. Reaching under the seat, she pulled out a skate bag and sat down, already toeing off her shoes.

  “You gonna just stand there?” she asked, looking up at me. “Get your gear on.”

  I looked back at Pierre, who just smiled and winked before walking off. Not wanting to make Cordelia wait on me, I also dropped my coat and gloves then sat to get on my skates.

  “Do you come here this early every day?” I asked Delia.

  “No,” she said. “Usually, just three or four days a week. I like to come in before practice actually starts. Get warmed up, try out new stuff my coach doesn’t want me trying to do. You know…playing. To remind myself why I fell in love with skating.”

  “You need to be reminded?”

  “Sometimes,” she admitted with a shrug. “Come on.”

  She stood and reached out for me. I took her hand and let her lead me out onto the ice. I didn’t let go, and she didn’t pull away as we made
a few warmup laps around the rink.

  For a minute, I was reminded of roller-skating parties from junior high. Holding hands while Rick Astley promised never to give her up or let her down. I’d meant what I’d told Emmaline. I would never let anything happen to Cordelia. Every minute I spent with her, I found a thousand new reasons to love her.

  I paid people to wax my boards and didn’t know their names. But Cordelia had made friends with the rink manager, and not only knows he likes hot chocolate but knows he takes it with extra marshmallows.

  “I’m going to do some jumps,” she told me, releasing my hand to pick up speed. “You can try, too, if you want.”

  Yeah, that wasn’t gonna happen. I moved to the side, watching her race around the ice, then she jumped, and her tiny little body flung itself into a spin that made my stomach turn just watching it. She landed smoothly, one leg stretched out behind her and her arms wide for balance, a genuine smile on her face.

  I sat down on one of the benches and changed back into shoes. I wasn’t really surprised when Pierre sat next to me.

  “She’s very happy,” he said. “Did you do this?”

  “I’m sorry?” I looked over at the man, unsure what he was asking me.

  “Cordelia is the sweetest girl I’ve ever met.” He paused to look down at the cup in his hand, a small smile playing on his lips. “She doesn’t know us well, but she’s made it a point to befriend as many of the employees here as she can. I thought, when she came to speak to me, she just wanted to coerce me into extra ice time. Then I thought she wanted to get on my good side because her uncle is such a jerk. But she really does just care about every person she meets.”

  “She’s a very generous person,” I agreed.

  “She’s naïve and trusting. She believes everyone she meets is good.” He looked at me, his gaze clearly appraising me. “She needs someone who can protect her. Someone who will allow her to keep that innocence about her.”

  What the hell? Were Emmaline and Pierre her parents or something? Why were they so damned concerned with how I treated her?

  “She makes an impression,” Pierre said when I didn’t respond. “I care for her as…well, as her uncle should. But he pushes her. She believes he does it for her own good. I am not so sure.”