by Vivian Arend
“Recovery. This is all sounding very James Bond.”
Marcus nodded. “There were a few times I climbed in a tux after leaving a fancy party. Including the day it all went to hell.”
Tension curled around him, and she adjusted position to rub his shoulders. She didn’t understand, but she didn’t want him to stop. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because people make choices, Becki. Not always the ones we’d make in the same situation. I slipped out of the party I’d been planted at and climbed the building until I got in an open window. One of the team was waiting for me, and once I’d turned off the alarm system, he joined me.
“Only the place got bombed. Friendly fire—or at least friendly to us. The military reports had said there wasn’t supposed to be any action until the next day, and that’s why we were in there, gathering information before it all got blown to hell.”
Becki shuddered. “The building blew up on you?”
“Parts collapsed. Most of the partygoers survived—the offices were in a different section of the building. Only we got caught, my teammate and I. Trapped under the rubble.” Marcus stared at the wall. “My hand was crushed. He got pinned under some concrete, his legs mangled under the mess.”
“Oh God, Marcus.” She didn’t like where this was going. “How long were you there?”
“Four days, but it was enough. We tried everything to get free, and nothing worked. We passed in and out of consciousness at times from the pain. And then—” His nostrils flared as he swallowed hard. “He made a choice, Becki. One that I didn’t want to make. He offered to shoot me.”
She bolted upright, shocked. “Why the hell would he offer to do that?”
“Because he figured we were going to die, and he wanted to die on his terms. He gave me the same choice.”
Her stomach rolled, and she was suddenly glad she hadn’t eaten before this conversation.
“I tried. I tried so damn hard to talk him out of it. To persuade him to hang on, that there were options.” Marcus closed his eyes, his face tight with sorrow. “In the end I couldn’t save him.”
“It was wrong. It was the wrong decision.”
Marcus nodded, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck and pulling their foreheads together. “It would have been the wrong decision for me. I chose to fight on. To wait and see what else would happen, and deal with the consequences. I knew my arm would probably be gone, but I didn’t think giving up my hand meant I should give up my life.”
The idea of him not being there tore into her soul. “Marcus, oh God. Your hand doesn’t matter. Not one bit.”
“It still tears into me. That I couldn’t stop him. That’s my nightmare—that’s what torments me.”
She brought their mouths together and kissed him. Needing his touch, the beautiful connection that had built between them to brush away the images in her mind.
* * *
Marcus held her tenderly but refused to take the embrace further. He pulled them apart and resorted to stroking her back in the hopes of distracting her. Maybe it hadn’t been the right time to share his story, but when would it be right?
“In the end, we all make our own choices, Becki. Dane made his. Right or wrong, we can only go forward.” Marcus stilled the urge to curse at Dane, though, for taking his own interests into the forefront and not thinking of what his decision would do to Becki.
If he hated Dane for anything, it was for being selfish and hurting someone he’d said he loved.
Becki nodded. She slid her fingers down his shoulder, finishing by holding his forearm. Her clasp growing stronger by the moment. “So . . . where do we go forward to?”
Marcus wanted to shout an answer—that they’d stay together—but she needed to make her own decisions. Only, like hell would he give up without a fight.
“You have wide open doors again, Becki. Once the reports come back from medical to confirm what you’ve remembered, you can do anything. Teach here, go back to SAR in Yellowstone for the fall.” She stiffened even as he spoke. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Whatever was wrong, it was killing him. “Becki?”
She glared, all the softness of the previous moment gone. “You trying to get rid of me?”
Wait. “What?”
“You just told me to go back to Yellowstone. Nice.” Becki released him so fast he thought she was going to fall backward off the couch, and he reached out to steady her. “What happened to the offer to work with Lifeline?” she snapped.
“That’s still on the table, but—”
“That’s not what it sounded like. Seemed like you said I’d go one way, and you go the other? Bullshit.”
Maybe he hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night, either. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Becki grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “Back in the cabin you said you needed me. How does that work if I go back to Yellowstone, Marcus? What kind of relationship you looking to have when we’re miles away from each other?”
Laughter burst out of him unchecked, and her eyes went wide with surprise. He hurried to calm her. “You, woman, are one of the most fascinating people I have met in my entire life. The way you jump to conclusions sets records. Listen to me. I didn’t tell you what I was going to do. I asked what you wanted to do.”
“But—” She snapped her lips together and nodded her head once, her rage dampened. “I’m still too wrapped up in layers to be able to deal with anything but straight-up facts.”
“What do you want, sweet Becki?” he soothed, bringing their bodies into contact, the heat between them rising. Her torso relaxed against him as he stroked her back. “Because if you want to work for the school here in Banff, or Lifeline, you can. If you want to go back to Yellowstone like you told Alisha, then you can go. But whatever you decide, I’m not leaving you.”
She released the death grip she had on his shirt, instead pressing her palms to his chest. “You’d come to Yellowstone? But the team . . . Lifeline.”
“I don’t need to be here for the team to continue,” Marcus pointed out. “The squad is important to me, but it’s not who I am. Not anymore. Other things are far more important. Worth changing my life for.”
“Oh, Marcus.” Her hands slipped up to clutch his neck.
He lowered his voice, whispering the words. Trying to convince her how serious he was. “I’m going to stick tight until you give up and decide you want me around all the time. The good, and the bad. I want it all.” Marcus smiled, loving the way she fit against him. The way she’d fought when she’d thought he was leaving her. “I told you I’ve been haunted by what I failed to do. Since you’ve come back into my life, the darkness is fading.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Becki nodded slowly. “Just like it wasn’t mine.”
“Our lives, our choices. My choice is I want to be with you. I love you, Ms. James, and no matter where we live, that’s not going to change.”
* * *
Becki stared in shock. Even quietly spoken the words had exploded out of him, and she could barely believe her ears. “You . . . love me?”
“Yes. Does that seem so terrible?”
She shook her head. “I expected it would take tying you to a chair and threatening to do horrible things before you’d admit it.”
“Well, I’m not as stubborn as you thought.” He brushed a kiss over her lips. Brief, mouths just touching, then away. “I’m waiting. . . .”
Joy bubbled up inside. He loved her—there wasn’t anything that could have brought this rush of days to a more fitting conclusion. Except teasing him a little, because it felt like the right thing to do.
“Waiting for what?” She batted her lashes.
He rewarded her with a smile, the one that turned her insides to sheer mush. “You want me to tie you to a chair? Wouldn’t be a hardship on my part.”
This time Becki kissed him. Wet wonderful heat passing between them as she possessively wrapped her arms around him. Hell, wrapped herse
lf around him. When they finally came up for air, contentment rolled off her in waves. “I do love you. And you’re what I want—I don’t care where we live.”
“You’d said Yellowstone was home,” Marcus reminded her.
“You’re home,” she insisted.
It was a long way from their beginnings to where they were now. An impulsive girl and adventure seeker, now grown up and tangled in something bigger than she’d ever thought possible.
When he rolled her under him on the couch and convinced her all over again that they belonged together, Becki knew she was right.
This was home.
Turn the page for book two in the Adrenaline series
HIGH PASSION
Coming from Berkley Books!
Sweat slicked the curve of his biceps as his arms flexed above her. He hung there for a moment, beautifully suspended, before lowering an inch at a time, total control in his every move.
Alisha Bailey licked her suddenly dry lips. She attempted to tear her gaze away, but she’d been mesmerized. Spellbound by the pounding beat of the music surrounding them and the ambience—overwhelmingly masculine, perhaps, but as if she were going to complain. He exhaled, and she breathed with him. Unconsciously their bodies moved in sync.
A lock of his blond hair fell over his forehead, and she was tempted to reach out and push it away. To drag her fingers over his shoulders and caress the ridges of muscle. To tug him closer until he wrapped all that leashed power and passion around her.
A metallic crash rang from their left and broke her fixation on Devon’s half-naked body.
Reality set in far too quickly. She was on the treadmill, the belt flying underfoot as she secretly ogled Devon hanging five feet in front of her while he cranked out pull-ups on the horizontal bar.
People interrupted their workouts to eye the bodybuilder who’d lost his grip. Devon dropped lightly to his feet, pulled a towel from the crossbar, and wiped sweat from his face and neck as the weight lifter in question shrugged sheepishly and replaced the plate.
The low-level testosterone hovering in the air of the hard-core gym, a mix of dust and perspiration, made Alisha wrinkle her nose. With every gasp she took, the odor flooded her senses, and those breaths were coming far quicker than usual.
She wanted to blame her accelerated panting on the steep incline of the treadmill and her rate of turnover, but it probably had more to do with the eye candy than she wanted to admit. No matter how annoying Devon Leblanc was, how exasperating he was to work with, the entire aggravating package was a mighty fine one.
Not that she’d ever let him know it. He had a big enough ego as it was. He didn’t need her stroking it. As much fun as stroking might seem some days.
The machine under her beeped a warning before powering up yet another notch. Alisha focused on keeping her balance at the near all-out-sprint pace. After a full summer of climbing rescues and spending all her spare time off hiking in the Banff area, she was in peak condition. Working to stay that way was now a way of life.
When the treadmill finally shifted to a slower speed she gulped a mouthful of water, forcing herself to finish the run strong. Follow through, all the way. No shortcuts, no sympathy.
As the smallest person in her business, and often the only woman, Alisha didn’t allow anyone to cut her slack, especially not herself. That attitude had gotten her through training that had left older and larger men puddles on the floor of the search-and-rescue school. Her work ethic had gotten her to the top of the list by graduation and gotten her an invitation to join the top SAR team in the Canadian Rockies.
Maddening how her gaze automatically darted to Devon, who’d been her only real competition back in the day. The fact that the two of them had been hired straight out of school onto Lifeline still made a few tongues wag and bitter comments fly.
As if she cared what the gossips said.
She cleaned the treadmill before dragging herself to the stretching mats. The noise in the oversized arena was a lovely distraction from the throbbing lactic acid in her limbs. One of the reasons she enjoyed using the local gym instead of the weight room at the Lifeline building or the school.
She enjoyed her job, but didn’t need to live in her teammates’ pockets 24/7.
Once again Devon came into view, and she debated throwing something at him. The one person she wouldn’t mind getting away from, and yet he constantly showed up. Damn him for being her tagalong shadow.
Probably did it to piss her off.
“Alisha.”
She scrambled to her feet, pulling her blonde hair back tighter into her ponytail in prep for hitting the weight room floor. The three guys headed in her direction might know her name, but she wasn’t sure who they were. “You looking for me?”
The two slightly behind their leader smirked and made some low comments, and Alisha’s heart fell.
Oh goody. Another muscle-bound Neanderthal looking to impress her. The signs were everywhere as the one in front swaggered his way into her personal space. “I hear you’re pretty good at climbing things.”
“You heard right.” She tilted her head back to maintain eye contact, refusing to look away while he took a leisurely gawk at her body. It was like clockwork, in a way. The scum always came out this time of year as new people filled the resort town in prep for the seasonal winter work.
This? This was the reason working out at the public gym wasn’t fun. What was it with guys thinking she’d make a good trophy?
Mr. Annoying leered. “You want to have something of substance to climb?”
Good grief. This one was stupider than usual. Alisha’s watch went off, reminding her she had two hours to make it to her staff meeting. “You know, it’s been fun and all, but I really have things I need to do. So, if you’ll excuse me.”
She shifted her body to one side, but he leaned with her, blocking her path. “I was thinking we could get together. I want to find some of the tougher climbing routes in the area.”
“Buy a book.” Of all the things she hated, guys who acted as if they had some kind of privileged right to access her time and knowledge pissed her off the most.
He didn’t take the hint, remaining in her path. “You’re not being very friendly.”
Fuck. This.
She glanced up to make sure she had the ceiling height to play with overhead. Other than that, Alisha didn’t bother to see who was around. No way would any of the locals condemn her for what she was about to do. She bent her knees slightly to get some momentum, grabbed a handful of his shirt material and leapt upward.
He swore, scrambling backward as she basically walked over him. One foot landed on his thigh, one somewhere in his groin area—she didn’t worry about exact placement. She pushed her hands down on his head to get the final height she needed to place one foot on his shoulder and dive for the chin-up bar Devon had been using moments earlier. A gentle swing turned her momentum and she landed on the path between the stretching area and the exercise machines, now on the opposite side of the guy who’d gotten in her way.
The asshole cursed at her, but she didn’t care, simply strode forward like he wasn’t there.
Devon eyed her from where he’d been holding up the wall, sipping from his water bottle as if watching a circus performance. He straightened to vertical, clapping softly as he gestured her into the main weight room.
“Having a good day, Alisha?”
“Bloody idiot.” Wrapping her fingers around a set of barbells and heading for the mirrors gave her a physical outlet for her frustration.
Devon chuckled. “Him or me?”
She paused for a moment. If Devon was going to hang around and drive her crazy with unanswerable longings, maybe he could actually help her for once. She looked into his laughing eyes. “Do me a favour and keep him from bothering me?”
Devon raised a brow.
She paused. “Please?”
“This your boyfriend?”
Alisha tensed as she realized the brute squad
had moved in behind Devon. Only he didn’t seem concerned. He winked at her, in fact, before he turned to face the jerk who’d interrupted her.
Devon checked out the three men. “I’m her friend.”
The ass in front shifted his weight. “So, you’re gonna keep me from bothering her?”
The last thing she expected was for Devon to burst out laughing. Full-out laughing. When he stopped, he was still shaking his head.
“You think this is funny?” The asshole stepped in closer.
“You have no idea how hysterical it is.” Devon moved aside, opening a path to Alisha. “You want to mess with her, you go right ahead. I have paramedics on speed dial. I’ll deal with your two friends if need be. She doesn’t need my help.”
Whoa. That was a vote of confidence she’d never expected to hear from Devon. Ever.
It was enough to make her grin.
Maybe she looked scarier than she thought, because Mr. Annoying faded away, his buddies with him.
“That simple, huh?” Alisha caught Devon by the arm and squeezed. “Wish they’d gone away the first time I told them to.”
“Yeah.” He glanced at his watch. “Finish your workout. We have a meeting to make.”
He turned his back, once again becoming a barrier between her and the rest of the room. For a moment she stood motionless, wondering at the compliment Devon had paid her.
Wondering why exactly he was there, again, underfoot.
She sat and struggled to focus on the motions of her arm workout. It was far too tempting to use the mirrors to track the location of Devon and the creep she’d crawled on instead of checking her form on each lift.
Maybe her response to the newcomer had been, well, over the top, but she was tired of having to fight for every damn inch of respect she got. You’d think it would get easier over time, acting as if she didn’t care. Pulling on a fuck-it-all attitude like armor.
She loved her job with something close to obsession. Why people couldn’t recognize that and respect her for it was beyond her understanding.