Whispers on the Ice by Elizabeth Moynihan

couldn’t push her around. If it meant stooping to such measures, then so be it. After all, as the saying went, ‘all is fair in love and war’ and this was most definitely turning into a war. “Are we going to continue this training session, Rocmanov, or are you not up to it?” Jordan taunted, walking toward him slowly through the swirling, crystal water.
    If you only knew how up for it, sweetheart , his body screamed ferociously despite his silence. “Whenever you’re ready,” Aleksei managed in as bored a tone as he could manage, despite his tongue feeling like cotton and his body hardening painfully in response to her near nakedness. How had the tables shifted so suddenly? How could he be standing in thousands of gallons of water and still feel as if he were about to burst into flames and turn to dust? Why couldn’t the water be another twenty degrees cooler? That would take care of any carnal thoughts. But then again, he knew he could be chest deep in snow, naked, and still feel the sensual fire that flamed in Jordan rage through him and set him ablaze. His only chance to survive the balance of this training session was to concentrate fully on the job of learning to lift Jordan and ignore the fact she was a semi-naked, child-siren, set on bringing him to heel. The fact that at the moment it looked more and more as if she’d won this skirmish, didn’t sit well with his ego. Thankfully, it made him all the more resigned to ignore the thoughts that urged him toward forbidden territory and prove to Jordan that her body didn’t tempt him at all. And if he managed to pull this off, he had beachfront property in Arizona he was interested in selling. Casting a quick glance skyward and silently asking for divine intervention, he walked deeper into the cool water, concentrating on everything but the small amount of fabric that made up Jordan’s suit.
    Whittaker watched the pair, shaking his head as he watched them come together, glance tentatively at each other, then look away when their eyes met. Definitely time to turn up the burner a bit, he decided and threw caution to the wind. “Okay, kids. Next lift on the agenda is what I like to call the layback…” Whittaker began, ignoring Jordan’s gasp of dismay and holding up one hand to stop any additional comments. “Now, Jordan, take your position.”
    “Whittaker…” Jordan pleaded, casting a frantic look toward Dee, who simply shrugged, the gesture clearly stating you’re on your own .
    Whittaker wiggled his finger in a circular motion, and slowly she complied. Aleksei watched, a confused frown creasing his brow until he heard his coach’s instructions. “Aleksei, both palms on her bottom, fingers wrapping toward her hips. Be sure you get under her again so the water supports that leg and pay attention, she’s going to be slippery.”
    “Excuse me!?” Aleksei croaked in disbelief, twisting to face his coach and casting his own pleading expression.
    Whittaker ignored his unspoken plea and again wiggled his finger, indicating he turn around. “You heard me. Positions, please.”
    Aleksei turned to face Jordan’s shapely rear end, barely covered by the shimmering, black clinging fabric. His fingers flexed nervously, their tension climbing up his forearms and toward his shoulders. Seeking to stop the tension that threatened cramps, he rolled his massive shoulders, crossing his arms and stretching the muscles until he relaxed. Jordan remained still and silent before him, her own shoulders working out knots of tension. She could feel the heat of him as he stepped behind her, their bodies mere inches apart.
    “Ready?” he asked softly, awaiting her answer.
    She nodded once.
    Aleksei flexed his hands once more and lowered himself into the water until it reached him mid-chest, his feet braced slightly apart. He placed his hands on her skin, cool against the heat of his palms, his fingers wrapping around her slim hips and holding steady. Jordan grasped his