not to laugh.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Don't you dare find amusement in my flailing."
He pulls a face. "I wouldn't dare. I'll hold onto you, no matter what. I promise."
I shake my head a little, rolling my eyes at the predicament we are in. It certainly wasn't my idea to come to this skating rink. Nor was it my idea to invite the press. Of course, the press wouldn't have been Stellan's doing. He would ban the press altogether from the entire country, given the choice.
I suck in a deep breath and try to move a little. Stellan holds me loosely in his grasp, his eye on my form. He frowns.
"Okay, I can see that you will need to shift your posture a little. Put your hands out like this and lean forward a little. Bend your knees…" He lets go of me for just a second to mimic the posture he means. I do my best to follow his instructions.
He takes my waist again. "That's good. Now you're ready to take a few steps and let your body sort of glide across the ice. Ready?"
I glance up at him, feeling his blue eyes upon me. I shove a hand through my hair and nod. "Whenever you are."
He smiles encouragingly but lets me lead the way. I venture out further on to the rink, feeling like a little kid learning to walk. True to his word, Stellan is right there beside me, his hands never leaving my waist. After a few moments of floundering, I find that I'm able to glide just as he instructed me to do.
My eyes are fastened on the ice in front of me, not really looking much ahead. The press has been mostly unintrusive so far, although if I look up into the lenses of the cameras that they hold, the flashes can almost blind me. Stellan moves a little closer, pulling me against his body.
"Just let me move us both," he says, whispering in my ear. "See how freeing it can be?"
My back hits the front of his chest as he glides forward, carrying me with him. And he is exactly right. It is nice, being able to go a little faster. I look up to him with a grin, feeling very silly.
He looks down at me, his expression intense, his hands on my waist tightening even more. "God, you're so beautiful. I can't get over it."
My cheeks flush. I can't help but beam at him. "You are such a flatterer."
He huffs out a little laugh, "Guilty as charged."
I'm so swept up in the moment that we are having that I'm not looking where I'm going. I just let Stellan be my guide, while I stare up at him, wondering exactly what I did to end up married to such a wonderful man.
There is a flurry of motion in front of me that pulls my gaze away from Stellan. I jerked my eyes forward just in time to see a photographer kneeling directly in front of me, zooming his camera lens in on me and Stellan. The photographer doesn't seem concerned with my trajectory right towards him. He seems more concerned with making sure he gets his shot. I freak out, my whole body locking out and I feel myself begin to lose my balance.
In the next second, I tumbled to the left side, not sure where I'm going or what I'm doing except that I don't want to run over the photographer. Stellan is right behind me, trying to manage my fall as best as he can. My knees hit the ice hard, my body hits the ground and the breath is knocked out of my body. It's a minor fall, even I can tell that. But that doesn't seem to matter to Stellan.
As I tumble to the ground, Stellan is already growling at the other man." What are you doing? Are you blind or stupid? Get away from here. I mean it. I don't want to see you again." His mood is black, mercurial as ever. He looks at the photographer with a dead eyed glare. The photographer backs up and holds up his hands, skating away.
"Stellan," I say, pulling on his hand. "Help me up. Come on, don't worry about him."
He helps me gain my feet again, holding onto my hand like a lifeline. Then he turns to the small crowd of press members, pointing at them. "If any of you pull any shit like that again, that will be