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father.
    'I'm sure Mr Petersen can find someone more ... more suitable,' she protested.
    'Who could be more suitable than Eliot Vincent's daughter?' Sven enquired blandly. 'I have discussed your work with van Goort and he agrees with me.'
    'Oh, does he?' Sonya's eyes blazed, while fear knocked at her heart. What had Jan said? 'How dare he discuss me with an outsider?'
    'You're being childish,' her father told her severely. 'Naturally Sven would consult with your trainer before asking you to partner him.' He turned to his guest with a singularly sweet smile. 'Forgive her, Sven ... I may call you that? She is young and egotistical, wanting to win her own success, and doesn't realise the honour you're doing her.' His glance flicked back to Sonya. 'You haven't won your laurels yet, my dear, he has.'
    'I hope to share them with you,' Sven said courteously.
    Sonya met his narrow blue gaze with mingled fascination and repulsion. Pair skating would mean close contact with him, physical contact. Her eyes dropped to his well shaped hands, lying on his knees, long-fingered, nervous hands which were seeking to manipulate her destiny. Inwardly she was visualising their clasp upon her own, their grip upon her waist as he lifted her. A shiver ran down her spine that was partly excitement. She did not like the man, she told herself feverishly, she did not want to become involved with him, and yet her senses responded to him.
    'There are only a few months before the sports in Canada,' she pointed out. 'We couldn't possibly be ready in time.'
    'Oh, I think we could,' Sven said easily. 'It is not as though you are a novice. You have done all the figures and it is only a matter of synchronising them with my movements. It will mean intensive practice, of course, but you are not afraid of hard work, are you?'
    Eliot answered for her. 'Of course she isn't. She has always been very conscientious about her skating from her earliest years.'
    'Van Goort will continue to coach us,' Sven went on. 'Then I may take it as settled?'
    Sonya drew a deep breath, wanting to cry out that it was not settled, that she had no intention of partnering this arrogant stranger, but a glance at her father's face restrained her. There was an eager light in his eyes and she realised he had set his heart upon this combination and if she opposed it he would become angry, with possibly disastrous results. But surely he was being inconsistent? He had been so anxious that she should not become involved with any young man and he must sense Sven Petersen's sexual magnetism, or wouldn't it be apparent to another man? Sven must be some six or seven years older than herself and ever since his initial success at sixteen he had been a target for feminine pursuit, while she was totally without experience. If Sven became amorous, as he would have every opportunity to do, would she be able to deal with him? Impulsively she asked:
    'Are you married, Mr Petersen, or engaged?'
    Her father frowned. 'Sven's personal life has nothing to do with you.'
    'On the contrary, as we shall be much together, your daughter has every right to ask,' Sven told him. 'No, I am not married, Sonya,' he used her first name with easy familiarity. 'Nor have I any female attachments, except my sister whom I rarely see. My art... sport whatever you choose to call it ... is my only mistress.' And he quoted, 'He travels the fastest who travels alone.'
    But now Eliot looked a little perturbed, perceiving that Sven might be a threat to his daughter's susceptibilities. He would have much preferred to learn that Sven's affections were engaged.
    'Sonya too is devoted to her art,' he said emphatically. 'And I haven't allowed her to be contaminated by the modern lust for pleasure. You're a young man, Sven, and I don't suppose you're a monk. If I entrust her to you I shall expect you to respect her innocence.'
    Sonya flushed with indignation. Her father was humiliating her by speaking of her as if she were a child and without