Read Online Gifts by Stephanie Burkhart - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stephanie Burkhart
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that Christian had been a good, supportive friend to her brother.
The baggage terminal clanked to life and bags began to pop out of the chute. Famke studied the luggage and when her floral print bag slid onto the rack, she stepped forward to grab it.
Christian beat her. "I'll get it."
"You're fast," she said.
He offered her a small, endearing smile. "I have to be to keep up with you."
"Oh?"
"I have to be fast to keep up with my partner on the ice. I have to anticipate your moves and trust your instincts."
" Chris, save it for the rink." Stephen motioned toward the exit.
"When do we hit the ice?" she asked.
"My coach is Maks Graaf and he's offered to coach us as a team. We can meet him tomorrow, if it's not too early for you." Chris opened the terminal door for her while continuing to pull her bag behind him.
"All right."
"Chris dreams about lifts and death spirals in his sleep," quipped Stephen.
"Hey, so do I!" she retorted.
"Then we're off to a good start," Chris said with a grin.
A blast of cold air struck Famke's cheeks as soon as they stepped outside. She adjusted her scarf and followed her brother to his car. Stephen worked as an accountant for a local firm. The job paid well. It was steady and it allowed him to care for their father, but her brother had given up most of his hobbies, his time now dedicated to working, sleeping, or their father's care. Famke vowed to help ease Stephen's burden.
They piled into the car and Stephen paid the parking fee. Famke turned toward the back seat to look at Chris. "Where do you live?"
"I have an apartment across from your brother's building."
"How's your mother?" she asked.
"She's still in Enschede."
"Good." If she remembered correctly, Chris' mother was a widow and lived in the country.
"Do we have a date to perform before the Ice Skating Federation?"
"We'll talk to Maks tomorrow. He's got to file the paperwork before the fifth."
Famke pursed her lips. Chris seemed so sweet , and no man had ever shown her his appreciation with a box of chocolates before. Her heart hoped they would be a good match on the ice, especially since she'd never skated as a member of a pairs team.
Chris ' gaze drifted outside the window. Had something else caught his attention? His expression grew serious. She glanced outside. They were near a canal. Famke spied a young woman bundled up in a winter coat walking briskly down the street, her long, red hair tumbling over her shoulders. Did she remind Chris of someone? He jerked his gaze away from the woman and rubbed his hands together. Was he trying to shake off an unpleasant memory? The scar on his temple lightly pulsed. Something was bothering him. Unsure of what to say, she fidgeted in her seat and closed her eyes. Her own body ached from the flight and she couldn't deny she was looking forward to a warm bath and nice meal. She opened her eyes.
Glancing in the rear view mirror, she spied a deep sadness in Chris' expression. A part of her longed to discover what the source of his unhappiness was and the other part told her not to cross professional boundaries. If they were going to be partners, it wasn't wise to step over that line.
Stephen turned onto a street in the Noord district of Amsterdam where he lived. The apartment buildings were about five stories tall, but weren't very wide. Stephen drove his compact car into a parking structure near his building. "We're here."
"I need a nice long bath and a bite to eat." Famke stepped out and shut her door.
"Chris, can you take her to the apartment? I'll run to the store for some food."
"Sure." Chris opened the trunk and grabbed her bag.
"I can take it." She gestured for the bag, but Chris waved her off.
"I've got it." He paused. "I always insist on carrying a lady's bags."
"But, Chris—"
"And you are a lady," he said.
Smiling, Famke nodded, discovering a small dimple in his cheek when he smiled so warmly.
"All right, lead the way."
Chris tugged the bag behind him and they took
The baggage terminal clanked to life and bags began to pop out of the chute. Famke studied the luggage and when her floral print bag slid onto the rack, she stepped forward to grab it.
Christian beat her. "I'll get it."
"You're fast," she said.
He offered her a small, endearing smile. "I have to be to keep up with you."
"Oh?"
"I have to be fast to keep up with my partner on the ice. I have to anticipate your moves and trust your instincts."
" Chris, save it for the rink." Stephen motioned toward the exit.
"When do we hit the ice?" she asked.
"My coach is Maks Graaf and he's offered to coach us as a team. We can meet him tomorrow, if it's not too early for you." Chris opened the terminal door for her while continuing to pull her bag behind him.
"All right."
"Chris dreams about lifts and death spirals in his sleep," quipped Stephen.
"Hey, so do I!" she retorted.
"Then we're off to a good start," Chris said with a grin.
A blast of cold air struck Famke's cheeks as soon as they stepped outside. She adjusted her scarf and followed her brother to his car. Stephen worked as an accountant for a local firm. The job paid well. It was steady and it allowed him to care for their father, but her brother had given up most of his hobbies, his time now dedicated to working, sleeping, or their father's care. Famke vowed to help ease Stephen's burden.
They piled into the car and Stephen paid the parking fee. Famke turned toward the back seat to look at Chris. "Where do you live?"
"I have an apartment across from your brother's building."
"How's your mother?" she asked.
"She's still in Enschede."
"Good." If she remembered correctly, Chris' mother was a widow and lived in the country.
"Do we have a date to perform before the Ice Skating Federation?"
"We'll talk to Maks tomorrow. He's got to file the paperwork before the fifth."
Famke pursed her lips. Chris seemed so sweet , and no man had ever shown her his appreciation with a box of chocolates before. Her heart hoped they would be a good match on the ice, especially since she'd never skated as a member of a pairs team.
Chris ' gaze drifted outside the window. Had something else caught his attention? His expression grew serious. She glanced outside. They were near a canal. Famke spied a young woman bundled up in a winter coat walking briskly down the street, her long, red hair tumbling over her shoulders. Did she remind Chris of someone? He jerked his gaze away from the woman and rubbed his hands together. Was he trying to shake off an unpleasant memory? The scar on his temple lightly pulsed. Something was bothering him. Unsure of what to say, she fidgeted in her seat and closed her eyes. Her own body ached from the flight and she couldn't deny she was looking forward to a warm bath and nice meal. She opened her eyes.
Glancing in the rear view mirror, she spied a deep sadness in Chris' expression. A part of her longed to discover what the source of his unhappiness was and the other part told her not to cross professional boundaries. If they were going to be partners, it wasn't wise to step over that line.
Stephen turned onto a street in the Noord district of Amsterdam where he lived. The apartment buildings were about five stories tall, but weren't very wide. Stephen drove his compact car into a parking structure near his building. "We're here."
"I need a nice long bath and a bite to eat." Famke stepped out and shut her door.
"Chris, can you take her to the apartment? I'll run to the store for some food."
"Sure." Chris opened the trunk and grabbed her bag.
"I can take it." She gestured for the bag, but Chris waved her off.
"I've got it." He paused. "I always insist on carrying a lady's bags."
"But, Chris—"
"And you are a lady," he said.
Smiling, Famke nodded, discovering a small dimple in his cheek when he smiled so warmly.
"All right, lead the way."
Chris tugged the bag behind him and they took
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