Free Winter Storms by Lucy Oliver Page A

have joined the team at Portsmouth, I ought to have stayed with you.”
    “You would have, if I hadn’t been so horrible.”
    “You had reason to be like that. I would have been worse. Rather than march off in fury, I should have tried to understand.”
    “What did Shane say?”
    Sliding his arms down, he gripped her waist and helped her out the seat, holding her against him then sliding his hand around the back of her head and leaning down, he kissed her hard. Stunned, her arms went around his neck, mouth pressed to his, losing herself in his embrace.
    A car horn hooted, reminding her of where they were, and she pulled back.
    “What happened with Shane to trigger that?” she said.
    He looked at her trembling hands, then the snow drifting around them and reaching into the car, he grabbed her stick.
    “We’ll talk inside,” he said. “You’re frozen.”
    Taking her arm, he helped her across to the black timbered building, staring straight ahead so she could see only his grim profile. What had happened today?
    Holding open the door, he led her into the bar, then through a passage to a lounge with tables, menus, and a fire of glowing logs. Carly perched on the edge of a plush velvet sofa, jumping when he threw himself down beside her, reaching out to twist her bright red hair in his fingertips.
    “I’m off the team,” he said.
    “What? Why? Because of the boat?”
    “No, that was just an excuse. I’ve not been performing at my best recently. Not since the Olympics.”
    “Well, it must have taken a lot out of you.” She gazed at him, brow creased, trying to work out what he was telling her. It went deeper than being thrown out the squad.
    “I wasn’t exhausted, I’d lost the drive, the desire to win. It just didn’t matter.”
    She nodded, understanding perfectly that winning at this level was more than pure physical strength. “Was it because Imogen left you?” she said.
    “No, it was never about her. I won the golds for you, because it had been our dream, but when I stood on the podium I realised you weren’t there, that you never would be. There was no point any longer in fooling myself that you might turn up to one of the races to see me. If you didn’t come for the Olympics, you would never come at all.”
    “I didn’t think about it, we’d split up. I watched it on the TV.”
    “It was a foolish thought, as was getting engaged, a waste of both mine and Imogen’s time.”
    She sighed, staring at the table in front of her, at the menu of meals she had no appetite for. “Would you like me to come to the next race?” she offered.
    His lip curled up. “There isn’t going to be one at the moment, and I wouldn’t ask you to do that.” He cleared his throat. “Shane wants me to get you sailing again.”
    “Sailing?” Her mouth fell open. “No, I can’t. And he has no right to suggest that to you.” She sat forward and wrapped her arms around her chest.
    “But I think he’s right, you do need to start sailing again.” He took her hands. “I’ll help you.”
    “Because you feel guilty? For poor old Carly, scared of water?”
    “You’re not going to recover until you face up to it.”
    “So you’re a psychologist now too? No, Daniel. I won’t, and it’s unfair of you to ask me. I want both of you to leave me alone, I’m happy now.”
    “Are you?”
    “I was until you turned up.” Grabbing her cane, she tried to stand up, furious that her leg didn’t even allow her the dignity of striding away.
    “There’s not much point in that, not unless you’re planning on walking home.” He rose and stepped in front of her. “I’m not going to push you, it’s your decision. But I’m here if you need me.”
    She nodded, turning her head away from him. This day wasn’t going as she’d planned. “I have to get back, it’s the gala tomorrow and I need to check the last minute arrangements. Are you going to open the fête?”
    “Of course I will, but sit back down. We’ll have