His Healing by Perfect Love

Chapter Four

The wind picked up with enough force to push the Nacra 17 catamaran sailboat across the waters of Lymington Harbour, England and Alexander Copeland had never felt more alive. He held onto the ropes of the sturdy boat and kept a steady grip as he leaned to the side, his back inches away from the rushing waters, the wind ripping through his hair.

Sailing was what he did best. It was the only sport in the world that allowed him to experience the freedom and tranquillity he desperately needed. It was that way ever since he was just a scrawny three-year-old boy and had stepped foot onto his father's first dinghy keelboat.

Though the sun was out, and he wore a yachting jacket, the strong winds still sent a chill down his body. But Alex would have it no other way. Besides, the atmospheric temperature on the rough waters matched the coldness of his heart. He felt right at home, almost as though he and the vast ocean were one.

"Watch your back Copeland! I'm coming for your little behind," laughed Chaz Danton from his position a few miles behind Alex on a 49er dinghy.

Alex chuckled and straightened his legs, increasing his speed. Chaz would be an idiot to think he could win this race against him. But knowing his best buddy's determination, Alex kept his focus.

Both offshore and in the water, the two were obsessed with sailing, and in Alex's mind, they had every right to be. They were Olympic champions after all, and both had made the Olympian A-list four years ago at the London Summer Games. Alex always remembered how the reporters had gone wild; how their faces had been plastered all over the sports tabloids with the headline that had rocked London and the world: Olympic champion Alexander Copeland− unbeatable for the gold medal, with Chaz Danton taking the silver! Everywhere he went, fans of the sport praised him, and he convinced himself that he was grateful. He now possessed a six-digit sum of money in his bank account after all, but sometimes, Alex wished he had someone, other than Chaz to celebrate with him. And in that moment, for a split second, he let his mind commit the painful crime, allowing his thoughts to wander to the memories he never allowed himself to re-live. Memories that he hadn't yet figured out how to handle.

In an instant− that's how fast they came, and Alex swore he stopped breathing when thoughts of the most gorgeous, olive-skinned woman with the most amazing hazel eyes he'd even seen swarmed his brain and filled his senses. She'd had that special type of eyes. The ones that seemed to change with every mood...the ones that had the knack of hypnotising him with just a simple glance. Damn! He was screwed good, because just like that, he was back in the place he feared the most; back in front of the most captivating woman he'd ever met.

"Georgia..." The name left his mouth in a whisper, floating into the air with the salty sea breeze.

Alex's mind chanted her name with the treasured images of her thick curly honey-brown hair blowing across her face in such a way that it made her laugh. Her laugh...geez, it was a sound that could only be compared to soft chimes to his ears. He knew it was only a few seconds down memory lane, but it was enough to cause his heart to beat in a frenzy. Hell! And he only thinking about her. Lord knows what he'd do to her if she was there with him in person. Frustrated, Alex groaned. That was never going to happen because they would never see each other again and he was going to do his damnedest to make sure it stayed that way.

He was busy dragging his brain to a safer thought other than Georgia when a sudden whoosh of air zoomed by his ear.

"Told you I'd catch your arrogant behind!" Chaz yelled over the waves, grinning wickedly. He'd caught up with him. Alex whipped his head around and grunted but, in a moment, Chaz came rushing at him with his cruiser. The next few seconds went by too quickly for Alex as Chaz's boat collided hard with his yacht, the hard impact causing him to lose his balance. In a desperate attempt to stop the boat from tipping over, he hastily struggled to grab hold of the lines, but he was too slow.

In a matter of seconds, both Alex and his boat capsized, plunging him deep into the depths of the ocean.

                                                                                  ***

"You lost your damned focus out there, Copeland! Don't tell me you suddenly got inspired to let Chaz win." The irritated voice of Ryan Keller, Alex's senior coach, echoed across the dock as he paced back and forth like a lieutenant disciplining his soldiers.

Alex and Chaz had come out the water and were now in discussion with the older man. They were being scolded like scouts. With all thoughts of Georgia long gone from his mind, Alex was honestly grateful for the dunk he took in the water, because it had brought him and his fantasies about Georgia back to reality; but Keller wasn't taking it very lightly.

As Alex stood before the older man on the harborside, the breeze picked up, giving him a slight chill through his dripping wet clothes. He followed Ryan with his eyes and clenched his fists at his sides− the way he always had to, in an effort to control himself whenever he was in conversation with the coach.

Alex clenched his jaw. "I said I won't let it happen again, Coach," he bit out.

"You better not!" Coach Keller came to a stop in front of Alex and squinted his eyes. "Cause, if you don't quit acting like a child, Copeland..." he lowered his voice and poked a finger in the centre of Alex's chest, "I swear you are off the team."

With that, Keller stomped off, his heavy feet giving the dock a cruel beating and Alex let out a breath as he left. Many a time he had to force himself to see the sailing sport through the eyes of Ryan Keller and the other coaches who held high in position in his club. With that steady vision, he was able to discipline himself a little harder.

It gave him comfort because he sure didn't want to get kicked off the team. And if he did, the blame wasn't going to fall on his lack of athletic abilities. No way... all the blame was going to belong to a woman named Georgia Adams, who stole his breath away over a year ago. A gorgeous Christian girl to be exact, and the funny thing was, he didn't even believe in God.

So, as Alex drove home that evening, the familiar feeling of the hardening of his heart took over his body. He couldn't afford any distractions from a woman at this point in his life. One-night stands were the only releases he allowed, but never from a woman as dangerous as Georgia. He rolled down the window on his side and let the breeze clear his head. For a while at least.

Because when he arrived home that night and settled into his bed, Alex couldn't shake the disturbing feeling that kept poking at him over the recent weeks.

Somewhere deep down inside of him, he knew that he was not running from Georgia only because of his magnetic attraction towards her. No, there was much more to it, a lot more to do with the God that she loved and served whole heartedly.

The same God that he couldn't face because of the turmoil that stirred inside of him every day with the memory of his sweet little sister Kaitlyn.

Alex was running because of the guilt and pain that the memory of his seven-year-old sister left deep inside the hollows of his heart.