Maid of Ice
Page 2
“Your accident wouldn’t happen to have been on the news, would it?” Curiosity laced her words.
His heart sank. She did know who he was. He didn’t want people seeing him like this. His reputation would never recover if he was seen shuffling around the hospital like an old man. He considered lying but thought better of it. If she’d seen the footage then she’d also seen his picture and he wasn’t that well-disguised. “Yeah.”
“They made it sound like your injuries were severe and that you’d be in hospital for weeks and here you are sneaking out of your room for coffee.” The smile was back on her lips and her eyes were bright as though she knew a secret that he didn’t.
The bruising had been severe. He hadn’t been able to move his legs for the first twenty-four hours. If he hadn’t spent hours inside of himself working magic, he wouldn’t be up and about now. The effort of healing himself had left him exhausted, and he’d made one of his many grazes deeper than it had been because he’d needed blood for the spell. He’d have killed for some silver. He was so out of practice that even little things took more effort than they should.
“They got you on good painkillers?” She raised one eyebrow.
“Apparently not as good as yours.” Broken bones hurt. He could only imagine that under the bandages there would be a mess of stitches. Needing metal to hold the pieces together was something he’d never had to experience, and didn’t want to.
She grinned and winked and had far too much bounce in her step. “Room 2014, I’ll hook you up.”
He wasn’t entirely sure she was joking. He wasn’t sure about her at all, yet he’d accepted her arm as though they were old friends. They were talking as if they knew one another and hadn’t just met. And unlike many women that he met, she wasn’t asking him for something.
Sitting in the cafeteria was sweet relief. Alina ordered for them both and then somehow managed to convince someone to bring it to the table. He didn’t know if he was up to carrying anything, and she certainly wasn’t. He was pretty much useless, yet she sat with him anyway.
“So…you actually drive the car in the TV show?”
She wasn’t acting like a fan, but the accident was the last thing he wanted to talk about and the memory made the room turn and his stomach bounce. He didn’t know if he did want to drive the car again. “Yeah.”
He wished he’d stayed in his room.
Chapter 2
Things had gotten awkward the moment she’d admitted to recognizing him. His attention was focused on his coffee. He took a sip and grimaced. Not that she blamed him as the coffee was nothing to write home about. Then he stared at something outside the window.
She hadn’t recognized him at first, mostly because she didn’t get to watch much daytime TV. But news of his accident had been everywhere. Hers was a nonevent. Playboy soap star survives car crash on set was a headline. National silver medalist falls over wasn’t. She hadn’t been skating. That was a lie. She’d been skateboarding, or at least trying to learn how to. Somehow, she lacked the affinity that she had on ice.
His shoulder-length hair was drawn back, not completely hidden by the blue cap with a liquor logo on the front. His T-shirt seemed new as though bought for the occasion. Maybe it had been. If no one had gone to his house to get his things then someone would’ve gone shopping for him. He probably had people who did that. He probably had people who did all kinds of things for him, including getting decent coffee.
But he was here with her. Kind of. She should’ve never mentioned the accident.
Even though he wasn’t talking to her, she was glad she wasn’t sitting alone. Sitting with a cute guy was ten times better than sitting alone even if he was preoccupied. She’d spent so much time alone or with coaches it was nice to be with a normal person. Or at least someone outside of the ice-skating world.
Finley was prettier in person than the photos on the news story had led her to believe, even though tension edged his lips. His eyes were bluer too and his ears had a cute little fold. It was weird how he’d never gotten them fixed. People got all theirs flaws fixed if they were in the entertainment industry.
He caught her staring, heat blossomed on her cheeks and she stabbed at her cake which was just as ordinary as the coffee.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not good company today. I think I might have overdone the walking.”
If he wanted to brush her off, she wouldn’t hold him back. “Do you need me to walk you back to the elevator? Call a nurse? Get a wheelchair?”
He swallowed and shook his head. But his eyebrows were pinched as though he couldn’t quite work her out. “I’m not ready to go back yet. What do you do?”
So he wasn’t in that much of a rush to leave. Maybe he’d been telling the truth and he was in pain and poor company. “Ice-skater, but no one remembers who came second.”
Her mother had told her that often enough, and that she needed to train harder instead of coasting on her natural ability. The more her mother pushed, the less she wanted to skate. Breaking her arm would get her some time off for bad behavior.
Once her mother’s concern had worn off there would be the annoyance that Alina was wasting her talent, and not appreciating all the sacrifices her mother had made, blah blah blah. She’d heard it all before. When her mother started, she was so very tempted to turn around and tell her that she was done skating and that never wanted to step onto the ice again.
But her whole life had been skating. What if she wasn’t good at anything else?
“It would nice to be forgotten for a while,” he said.
“Oh, I’m not a fan,” she said a little too quickly.
He lifted an eyebrow as though he didn’t believe her.
“I only recognized you because of all the media coverage. I didn’t mean to make this weird.” She was always making things weird, mostly because she’d never been allowed to be with people. She had to train and she’d been homeschooled and now at the grand age of twenty-eight she was socially inept. “I’m not great with people.”
She should just stick her foot in her mouth and hop away before she did more damage.
He smiled and shook his head. “I didn’t think you were stalking me.”
“Good. Because I wasn’t.” But she’d known he was in this hospital because it had been on the news.
“I guess I’m too used to people stalking me.” The smile fell away. He stood and pain flickered over his face. He offered his arm. “Did you want to try this again tomorrow?”
She hooked her good arm through his, knowing that while he was appearing to be a gentleman, it was to keep him upright. He had too much pride to go back to his room in a wheelchair. She’d let him keep it because helping him was an excuse to touch him. It wasn’t every day she got to escort hot actors around.
“If I get my cast, I’ll be out tonight.” She tried to sound glad about that.
Then she’d be out of his way and he could find the kind of starlet or model he was usually seen with. Just once it would be nice if she was the one getting taken to the fancy events she read about. Her mother kept a very strict training schedule and dating wasn’t encouraged. Though she had managed to have a few bright, short relationships. Truthfully some of them hadn’t lasted long enough to be called relationships, they were better called extended one-night stands.
He nodded. “I hope it all heals up and you get back to skating.”
Her lips pursed as though she’d bitten into a lemon. She hoped to find a reason to quit while she had the cast on.
Finley was watching her closely. “You don’t want to skate?”
No…yes. “I don’t know. I’ve been doing it for so long it’s all I know. I want to live. Have an adventure.” Although her arm was aching and the cake was sitting uneasily in her stomach and the most adventurous thing she wanted to do right now was channel surf through the stations
until she was tired enough to take a nap.
Someone stepped in front of them, phone out. Before either of them could react, he’d taken a couple of photos. “Anything you want to say about the accident, Finley?”
Finley stepped back as though struck. “No comment.”
The man should be visiting a relative not taking pictures and asking questions. He turned his attention to her. “And who are you?”
“None of your business,” Finley answered for her. “Get out of here before I call security.”
The man snapped another couple of photos before a nurse realized something was wrong and confronted him.
Finley tugged Alina onward and managed to find a bit of speed. “Goddamn vultures always looking for a story to sell,” he snarled.
Alina glanced over her shoulder. The man was being escorted out of the hospital by security. What had just happened? Finley didn’t seem shocked at all, just annoyed.
“Don’t acknowledge him; he might think he’s more than pond scum,” Finley muttered.
“You know him? Who was he?”
“It doesn’t matter. They’re all the same. I’m sorry but you’re going to be dragged into this mess.” He pressed the elevator button.
“What mess?”
“The mess he’ll make with whatever story he concocts about us. We’ll most likely be dating. If you’re really lucky there’ll be baby or marriage rumors. Or you might be my secret wife.” He grinned but it was full of poison. Gone was the warmth or even the echo of pain. His eyes glimmered with anger.
“Does this happen a lot?” At skating events, there was the press, and when she’d been eighteen and full of potential, there’d been attention. But no one had ever taken random pictures of her going about her life.
“More than I like.” He sighed. “I’ll have to arrange an interview. My agent and the show producers have already made a statement about the accident, clearly that’s not enough.” The elevator doors opened. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay.” Her mother was going to be furious that she’d been snapped with Finley Ryder. She bit back the smile as she didn’t want to be explaining why her mother still had such a tight hold on her life. It wasn’t right and she was tired of it. At some point, she had to live her life, not the life her mother wanted her to live. Maybe now was the time to make that break.
* * * *
Will Sorrell cursed the security guard who’d escorted him out of the hospital like he was some kind of troublemaker. At least he had photos to sell. The gossip sites and magazines couldn’t get enough of what jerks like Finley Ryder got up to. Men who had a different woman every week and acted as though it was their God-given right.
The women were just as bad, throwing themselves at him, knowing they’d be cast off. Meanwhile men like him didn’t even get a chance. Even injured, Finley had picked himself up some new bit. Will scrolled through the photos. He didn’t know who she was, but someone would and it would make a nice story.
It was gratifying to see Finley in pain. The way he’d hobbled like an old man. That had been worth it.
Almost as exciting as watching the car accident. It was a miracle that Finley had survived. No, not a miracle, magic. Assholes always survived. For some reason the universe favored men with looks and money and Finley had also been gifted with magic. He had everything.
Will shoved his hands in his pockets. He was just another everyday Joe in a town that didn’t care unless you had the face of a model or the bank account of a small country. Women didn’t see him. He was the nice guy, the one who could be trusted, not like Finley.
Finley was everything he hated. The kind of man who ruined it for everyone else.
It was only fair that Will took a tiny piece of him to line his pockets.
The pictures of his death would’ve been worth more. Or even pictures of the magic.
No matter how closely he’d checked the photos of the accident for signs of the magic Finley must have used, he couldn’t find anything. His grandfather had used magic often enough. It had been real magic, not lame card tricks. His grandfather had looked a lot like Finley. It was the eyes and ears. Of course not a single child or grandchild had inherited the curled ears, the blond hair, or the magic. Somehow his grandfather had kept it all for himself. A selfish prick right to the end.
Just like Finley, who was what Will should’ve been. Famous and magical.
Did that pretty little redhead know what was on her arm? Of course not. No one did. It was all a big secret that there were people with real magic. Elves. If he could get the proof, he’d expose them all. He’d be famous then and women would be lining up to date him.
He’d send Finley a little reminder that it didn’t matter where he was, Will could get to him. Then he’d make sure to follow up on this story. He’d keep turning up the heat until Finley was forced to use magic and then he’d be there to get it all on camera.
Finley would regret the day he’d gone from stuntman to soap star, taking the role Will had auditioned for, sucking up the fame that should’ve been his. He was stuck doing commercials and taking photos all because he didn’t have magic to smooth his way. Somehow Finley had everyone conned.
Well, not him.
Chapter 3
Finley lay on the bed. He’d overdone it and everything was hurting, and he was shattered. All he wanted to do was sleep, but first he had to fix the mess Will had created. Or at least apologize for it again and hope that it blew over fast. He called the gift shop and asked them to send flowers to room 2014. It wouldn’t be enough, but it was a start. Plus he’d been a shitty table companion. And while he shouldn’t care, he did.
Alina hadn’t asked to be part of his media circus.
They’d only sat down for coffee, bad coffee at that, because they were escaping their bland rooms, escaping their lives. She’d been kind and had offered her support even though she was injured and she didn’t owe him the time of day. And her eyes were mesmerizing. She wasn’t Albah. Yet there was something about her.
He made a few other phone calls, warning his people about what had happened and telling them to arrange an exclusive. There were still no answers about the car. He relived the accident again, the way the steering hadn’t responded. The feeling of weightlessness just before impact. His stomach lurched. He forced himself to sit up.
Falling asleep was no longer easy or relaxing. He sat there, too tired and sore to do anything, but unwilling to sleep. Lunch arrived and he forced himself to eat. He wasn’t used to sitting around and doing nothing. He pushed the rest of the meal around the plate then gave up. When the doctor came in Finley smiled and said he was feeling great. All he wanted to do was get home.
Especially now that the paparazzi had invaded the hospital. It wouldn’t be long until they found his room. He could discharge himself, but that wouldn’t go down well with the show. He had to play by the rules.
When the doctor left, Finley knew he had a choice. He could either sit here or he could go and see Alina before she was released. There were some things that were worth the pain. Hopefully the flowers had arrived.
Hopefully she liked flowers.
He didn’t know her well enough to be able to guess, but she didn’t seem like the teddy bear kind of woman. Maybe she was. He scowled as he stood in the elevator. He should just leave it, they would go their separate ways and the story would mean nothing. Just another package of lies cooked up for clicks.
The elevator stopped and he stood there for a moment.
Why was he torturing himself?
This wasn’t just boredom. He could’ve been chatting up a half a dozen different nurses if he wanted some fun. He shuffled out of the lift. He wasn’t feeling any better than he had this morning, but nothing was broken, he was just sore. He could be sore at home.
Alone.
He followed the signs to room 2014.
He stopped and knocked on the half-open door.
Alina’s hair was drawn up into a messy ponytail. Red strands fell around her face as she shoved things into her bag with one hand. She glanced up, her eyes wide for a moment before the shock melted into a smile. “I thought you were my mother. I told her not to come, but she insisted.”
He didn’t want to be here when her mother arrived. That would be awkward. The flowers were still wrapped up as though untouched. “I just thought I’d come by and see if you’d be around for coffee tomorrow, but you got your cast.”
She tapped it. “Yep. I think I could’ve done with another day here.” Her smile dropped, but her eyes gleamed with silver. “I’m sure you’ll find someone else to have coffee with.”
He winced. That stung. He wasn’t that bad—yes, he was. And she’d realized how bad he was. Flowers were never going to make up for what was going to happen when the pictures came out. “I hope they don’t make up too many tales about us.”
“It might be fun to read about the exciting life I’m not living. The flowers are pretty. Thank you, but I’m not sure what they are for.”
“Because I feel bad about what’s going to happen.” He’d seen it too many times.
“You don’t know what’s going to happen.”
No, he didn’t. He wished he had the power to see the future like Albah women. “Not exactly.” If he could see the future, maybe he’d have seen the car accident and been able to stop it from happening somehow. Even if he could see the future, he wouldn’t change anything about his life. He loved his job. He missed his family, but he couldn’t be what his father wanted him to be. He’d known that since he was a teen. “But I can guess.”