“Lovely?” He repeated, apparently bemused by her description.
She grimaced. “I know, the circumstances aren’t ideal, for either of us, but I’ve always wanted to see the French countryside, and never had time.”
“This is not a sightseeing holiday.” His assertion was sharp and condescending enough that in her frazzled state, she felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. She turned quickly, lifting her coffee cup, pretending fascination with a tapestry hanging on another wall. The morning light caught the threads and detail of the image but she couldn’t have said what she was looking at. Her vision was decidedly foggy.
“You won’t be leaving the chateau,” he said, more calmly, gently, so the tears, if anything, felt more urgent. “Fortunately for you, there is plenty here to keep you entertained.”
That caught her attention. “Exactly how long are you imaging I’ll stay?”
“Until this matter is sorted.” His response was unequivocal, and while her nerves were stretching tight with the temptation of that, she found herself shaking her head, pushing back the fantasy.
“It’s very kind of you to want to help, but I can’t hide away here indefinitely, Leonidas. I have to get back to training next week.”
His eyes narrowed. “And if your stalker has not yet been caught?”
She shivered. “I’ve lived this nightmare for a long time.”
“And you can keep going as you have been?”
She thought of her life. The walls closing in on her. The apartment she kept sparse so she could see every corner, the fear that was her constant companion, the dreams she’d been having, of being stabbed while she performed, red blood leaching into the white of the ice. She thought of how strong she’d been, all on her own, no one to lean on, no one she could trust completely, and she wanted to weep—only it wasn’t yet time to let go of her strength. She needed it still, even as Leonidas seemed to want to ease her burden.
“If I have to,” she said stoically.
His expression was sympathetic and that pulled at something inside her, making her heart twist painfully. “I refuse to let him win,” she said after a beat. “Skating has been my whole life for a long time, my anchor point, and I have worked so hard to reach this record, I cannot—I refuse—to let this derail me.” She lifted a hand, brushing her brow, then moved awkwardly towards the seats. He helped her, and sparks flew into the air around them, so she startled at his touch, eyes flying to his before she could control her reaction.
Once she was seated, he moved to the seat opposite, but didn’t sit down. “What record?”
But she was lost in thought, trying to work out how to explain her life and motivation to him. “Figure skating isn’t something you can do forever. I’m twenty four and I’ve been competing internationally since I was sixteen, training at an elite level for many years before that. It’s hard on the body. I’ve had broken ribs, wrists, I’ve been bruised all over from crash landings against the ice. The fitness regimen is punishing. I train six hours a day, not including general exercise. At some point, I’ll have to walk away from all this,” she said, with a small shake of her head.
“And you don’t want to?”
“Not really. I don’t know if I can imagine my life without skating, without competing.” Her smile was ambivalent. “It’s not…it’s not that I love it, so much as that I need it. I have nothing else.”
She heard the sadness of that admission, knew how vulnerable it made her seem, but strangely, didn’t mind revealing that truth to him.
“What is the record you mentioned?”
She sipped the coffee, surprised by how much she liked the taste of the black liquid. “It’s something my mother was trying to do.” She said softly. “She only needed one more gold in the calendar year, but then, she found out she was pregnant with me and couldn’t continue competing. It’s too dangerous to skate while pregnant. Plus, her situation was frowned upon. She lost her place in the team, and her chance to skate professionally again.”
His eyes bore into hers. Mila hesitated for a moment. “She talked about it often. I know how much it meant to her. Even as a young girl, I swore I’d grow up to do this. That I’d win that gold, get the record she hadn’t been able to attain, because of me.”
He frowned at that; she barely noticed. “And you still feel the same way about it?”
“I want…” And out of nowhere, a lump formed in her throat. She swallowed past it. “I want…” Damn it! Her eyes stung with the threat of tears. It had been a long twenty four hours. She bit down on her lower lip, massaging it with her teeth. “When I skate,” she said after a beat. “I feel like she would be proud of me,” she said with a shake of her head, hating how much she’d admitted to him, hating her vulnerability when it came to her mother.
The silence in the room was heavy and she couldn’t meet his eyes at first, but after a moment, she lifted her gaze to his face, and saw something there that took her breath away: comprehension. He understood.
“And in order to win in October, you have to get back to training,” he said.
“Yes.” She nodded once, glad he’d focused on the practicalities. “My injury came at the worst possible time. This is when I should be perfecting my routine, finessing it.” She should have been more upset about that, but in truth, being here with Leonidas was a strange, delightful consolation. “I know I can get back on track,” she said with the steely determination she was famed for. “But it means heading back to train as soon as my physio signs off on my ankle. One more week,” she said with her fingers crossed visibly.
“It could be too dangerous.”
“I told you, I’ve lived with this threat for over a year.”
“But has he ever been as bold as he was last night?”
She shivered involuntarily. “I—no.”