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Valentina Bazin was the youngest competitor*to have won gold medals in the women's individual and team foil event, in an Olympic Games. She was France's sweetheart. The whole world was certain she would go on to capture*many more gold medals, and win every major fencing title for her country. She had the potential to become the greatest fencer in the history of the sport.*She also had a temper that matched her skills. Valentina was returning as the defending women?s foil champion to the World Fencing Championships, held in her home town of Paris, France. Giancarlo Antonelli was*a member of the Italian fencing team. Giancarlo had competed in one Olympic Games, and finished in the top twenty*of*the men's individual foil. A result he was more than content*with. He had decided that he would compete in one final tournament before starting the process of*opening*his own restaurant.*His true love and*passion had always been cooking. Both of Giancarlo's*parents were Master Chefs. He*grew up in his parents' restaurant, Il Fornello, a very popular and respected dining establishment, in Napoli.*He carried many*fond memories of helping his mother in the kitchen. She had been, and still was, very patient with him. When Giancarlo turned twenty-three a year ago, his mother would frequently*mention that he should have been married, and given her one of many*grandchildren already. It was in the stadium's cafeteria that fate brought Valentina and Giancarlo together. The World Fencing Championships opening ceremony had concluded, and they had headed with their teammates*to the cafeteria for a quick bite. One of Giancarlo's teammates nudged him and pointed out Valentina to him. She was ahead of them in line.*?She is the best in the world. She is an incredible athlete. You should ask her for an autograph. Since you always tell us how you think she is the most beautiful girl in the world,? he chuckled. Giancarlo laughed out loud and shook his head. ?Movie stars, Rock and*Roll stars, and royalty line up just to get a glimpse of how beautiful she is. No other competitor has ever asked her for an*autograph. I'd look like the only fool in the*room if I were to.? Valentina turned around to see who had laughed. The laugh had sounded so full of life, playful,*content, and melodic. The sound made her smile. It soothed her in a new and strange way. When Valentina's gaze met Giancarlo's, he quickly averted her eyes and pretended to be carrying on*a serious*conversation with his teammate. ?She looked at me. Did I laugh too loud?? he whispered. ?You always laugh too loud, Giancarlo,? his teammate chuckled. ?She's still looking at you, by the way.? ?Why? How is she looking at me? She must think I am an idiot,? Giancarlo blushed from embarrassment as he spoke. His teammate shrugged his shoulders and replied, ?Am*I a mind reader? Ask her yourself. She doesn't have her foil, you should be relatively safe.? Giancarlo turned around but didn't look at Valentina. He pretended to be trying to make up his mind on what to choose for his meal. Valentina stepped out of the line and made her way to Giancarlo. ?It's not as bad as it looks. The food here is quite good,? she smiled as she tapped Giancarlo on his shoulder. Giancarlo turned to Valentina and hesitated to make any reply. He gathered his courage and asked her, ?What do you recommend? I cannot decide what I want.? Valentina pointed to a tray behind the glass, and şişli escort replied, ?The Fettuccine Alfredo with chicken and broccoli is very good.? Giancarlo laughed softly at Valentina's recommendation. ?It was you who I heard laugh. You have a lovely laugh. It is melodic, filled with pure happiness.*What do you find so amusing in*my choice of food?? Valentina chuckled. Giancarlo smiled and replied, ?The pasta is much too*overcooked. The sauce is too watery, the broccoli was added much too early, and the chicken*has the consistency of bubble gum. They should call it chicken soup.*I mean no disrespect to the kitchen staff, but it is breaking my heart to just look at it. I think I'll have a salad. I thank you just the same for your recommendation, Mademoiselle Bazin.? Valentina crossed her arms and replied, ?All that, from one look? How can you be sure? And, you are most welcome, just the same, Monsieur...? She extended her left hand. A tradition among fencers is to shake an opponent's hand with their non-weapon hand. The*weapon hand is always gloved, and holding the weapon,*it is quicker and less clumsy*after a match, to shake hands with the*left hand. It is also an old tradition of the duel for fencers to shake with their non-weapon hand as a show of respect. ?I am Giancarlo Antonelli. It is a great honor and pleasure to meet you, Valentina Bazin.? Valentina smiled and held on to Giancarlo's hand. His touch was pleasing, and set off a slight flutter in her belly. ?You are in France, and are critiquing our cuisine. Very bold, perhaps even arrogant of you, Giancarlo,? Valentina snickered. Giancarlo felt his heart jump in his throat at the sound of his name from Valentina's lips. ?Arrogant? Not in*the least. I only made an observation, Valentina. I have over cooked pasta on a rare occasion or two,? he smiled. Giancarlo's teammate brought his hands together and shook them up and down as he addressed Valentina, ?Please don't encourage him, Singnorina. If he starts talking about cooking, we'll all starve to death, and he?ll still be talking about cooking.? Valentina laughed and asked Giancarlo, ?You have a passion for cooking? Are you any good at it?? ?I can boil a pot of water without supervision,? Giancarlo chuckled. ?This is my last tournament. As soon as I return to Napoli, I will begin the process to open a restaurant,? Giancarlo blushed as he tried to gather the courage to invite Valentina to sample his cooking. ?We French are also very*passionate. In the old days, a disagreement would be settled by a duel,? Valentina chuckled. ?Wait here, Giancarlo.? She made her way to the utensil station and grabbed one paper napkin. When she returned to Giancarlo, she playfully struck the paper napkin across his cheek. ?I challenge you to a duel, Giancarlo Antonelli. I am obligated to defend my country's honor. Do you accept?? Valentina furrowed her brow and winked at him. ?When I win, you will cook me dinner, and I get to choose the wine. I will choose a French wine, of course.? Giancarlo laughed and asked, ?And if I win?? Valentina smiled and replied, ?You still cook me dinner, but you get to choose the wine. Don't waste any time on thinking about what wine you will choose. No one can beat me. My foil's tip will find your heart.? Giancarlo bent at his waist slightly and replied, ?I gladly accept your challenge, Valentina. My heart awaits the sweet kiss of your foil's tip.? şişli escort bayan Valentina felt heat in her cheeks as she turned to walk away, and added, ?Tomorrow night*I'll best you, at seven o'clock, in the main auditorium. Au revoir, Giancarlo.? Giancarlo's teammate slapped him on his shoulder and chuckled, ?When we get back home, I am moving to Napoli, and you are going to teach me to cook. Who knew that cooking was an aphrodisiac to women? What are you going to have to eat, Giancarlo?? ?I seem to have lost my appetite. It suddenly disappeared,? he replied. Valentina made her way back in the line, next to her coach, Nathalie. Nathalie was thirty-seven years old, married with three children, and had won two silver Olympic medals. They roomed together when at a tournament. ?Who is that handsome young man you spoke with?? Nathalie coyly smiled. ?Handsome? Is he? I didn?t notice,? Valentina replied casually. ?His name is Giancarlo. I challenged him to a duel. He is tall, the perfect opponent for practicing closing the distance.? Nathalie smiled, put her arm around Valentina?s shoulder and whispered in her ear, ?Handsome young men are fun to spar with, but, it is much more satisfying to kiss them, Valentina. You might want to remember that, after you have used him as a pin cushion.? Valentina shrugged and replied, ?He is not handsome enough for me to want to kiss him, Nathalie. I have kissed many boys, it is much more fun to stab them,? she giggled. ?Perhaps, I will place a kiss on his cheek, to thank him for sparring with me.? The flutter in her belly returned at the thought of kissing Giancarlo. ~ The first day of the competition, Valentina easily won her match by scoring five consecutive touches in under two*minutes. Giancarlo was beaten by a score of four touches to two at the end of his*three*minute pool*bout. Having lost, and scored only two touches, he would be facing one of the top finishers in the elimination round.*He didn't care. All he could*think about was seeing Valentina again. ~ Valentina was dressed in full gear when Giancarlo arrived at the auditorium. She waved at him as she gleefully called out, ?Bon soir, Giancarlo!? He waved back and made his way to her. ?Congratulations on your victory, Valentina. You fought brilliantly, as you always do,? he smiled. ?Merci Giancarlo. I am sorry you drew such a tough opponent for your pool match. He is the favorite to win the gold medal.*But you performed well.? Valentina lifted herself up on to her toes and kissed Giancarlo on both his cheeks. An action that surprised Valentina, as much as it did Giancarlo. ?We can skip the sparring, Valentina. I will cook for you anytime you wish me to. I would be honored to. I don't want to impose on your*training,? Giancarlo offered as he put on his jacket. Valentina shook her head,*and replied, ?The meal will taste better knowing I earned it,? she snickered. Giancarlo laughed and replied, ?As you wish.? They put on their masks and made their way to the fourteen meters long, by two meters*wide strip, to begin their match. ?Five touches to win the match. En garde,? Valentina announced. Giancarlo set the electronic timer to count down five minutes, and took his stance behind the on guard line. He*struck quickly; he lunged forward and extended his arm, aiming for*Valentina?s*ribs, the closest legal target available*to him. Before his arm was fully extended, he felt mecidiyeköy escort the tip of Valentina's blade strike the center of his chest. The power of the strike surprised him. After a match, it is expected to have bruises where the tip of the foil strikes a body. The tip of the foil travels at a*great speed, and strikes with the body weight, and the acceleration of the body and arm, as the combatant lunges forward and extends their arm. No accurate measurement of how*fast the tip of the foil travels has ever been measured. The flick of the blade, when a lunge is parried, whips the blade over the opponent?s blade, and increases its velocity, adding to the force that is generated, and transferred to the target.*Valentina generated the same force, on par, with that of any male competitor Giancarlo had faced.*She possessed incredible speed and accuracy. ?Too slow, Giancarlo,? Valentina giggled as she made her way back to the on guard line on the strip. ?Too fast, Valentina,? Giancarlo laughed. His laugh made her insides flutter again. She couldn't stop herself from smiling. The strange and new feeling that Giancarlo evoked in Valentina, although she could not name it, she was certain that she liked it. Valentina initiated the next attack. She lunged forward with both her feet leaving the ground. When Giancarlo touched her blade to parry, Valentina twisted her wrist and let her forward momentum deflect Giancarlo's blade, and*carry her blade to Giancarlo's chest. ?Too easy,? Valentina giggled again. Giancarlo shook his head and chuckled, ?Two blades to my heart. At this rate, there won't be any of my heart left*for you to break.? Valentine made her way to the on guard line walking backwards, as she asked, ?And why would I want to break your heart, Giancarlo? It is much more fun to merely poke holes in it.? ?Hmm, my heart serves only as target practice for you?? he asked. ?Perhaps,? she coyly*replied. The sexual tension increased steadily between the two combatants. They both were anxious to continue their battle of innuendoes, words, and wits, more than the clashing of steel. ?There is a fury inside you, Valentina, as great and powerful as a*raging ocean, in your attack and your defense. I wonder if your kiss holds the*same fury as you strike at my heart with.? ?You are a*much better poet than you are a fencer. You wouldn't be trying to distract me, would you, Giancarlo? Our fencing vests do not protect our hearts from words. I'd rather feel a blade pierce*my heart, than feel it break.? Giancarlo chuckled and replied, ?Our sport is born from the art of killing. It is similar to love, is it not, Valentina? Both are fatal. We must take chances. When we attack, we leave ourselves unprotected, and exposed to a counterattack. When we dare to love, we expose ourselves to potential heartache.? Valentina chuckled and replied, ?I am certain you are trying to distract me.? Her voice quavered from the flutter in her belly that Giancarlo?s words invoked. They took their stance and prepared for the attack. When Valentina saw Giancarlo's lead foot begin its slide forward, she charged at him and lunged forward. Her blade knocked his to the side.*And with an inward twist of her supple wrist,*the tip of her foil found Giancarlo's heart for a third time. Giancarlo grabbed her blade and pulled her close*to him. He released the blade, slid his left hand to the small of her back and pulled her to him.*Valentina lifted her mask and let it fall to the floor behind her. She stared at Giancarlo with fire in her eyes. ?Unhand me. I am not that type of girl,? she hissed. Giancarlo released her. Valentina did not move away from him.