by JC Harroway
‘Leave that to me. I bought you something. I hope I guessed the sizes correctly.’ He lifted one hand, where a carrier bag dangled from one finger.
Heat pooled in the wake of his stare and I shuffled my feet, the lack of physical contact between us leaving me fidgety and irritable. I snatched the bag from his finger to peer at the contents. A pile of black Lycra and a pair of rubber-soled climbing shoes greeted me. My eyes widened as they flew back to his. ‘I can’t do this. I’ve never been rock climbing before.’
‘Tut, tut, Soph.’ He shook his head, laughter sparkling in his eyes. ‘You don’t strike me as the kind of woman to walk away from a challenge. You slay dragons, right? And I’d never let you fall. Trust me.’
Trust him? I barely knew him. There were very few people I trusted. And even though he’d been inside me, our gazes locked as we’d shared the ultimate pleasure our bodies could experience, he hadn’t earned his place as one of them. But it was my flesh and blood at stake here, not my soul, and he was right. I wouldn’t back down from any challenge he issued.
I fixed him with my fiercest glare. ‘You’re experienced at this, I take it?’
He nodded, reaching into the bag to withdraw a pair of Lycra leggings. ‘What you have on is fine, but these are the safest thing to wear—nothing to get caught in the ropes. You need to hurry and put them on, unless you want to change later, alfresco?’
I snatched them from his grip, turning on my heel and heading towards my bedroom.
‘Don’t get me wrong’—his words followed me down the hallway, mocking and playful—‘I wouldn’t mind another glimpse of your luscious backside, but it’s up to you.’
The look I shot him as I rounded the doorway into my room could strip paint. But as I fumbled into the leggings, the thrill of his words worked their magic on me, turning my legs to jelly and my blood to hot fudge sauce. How was I going to survive the day with playful, flirty Nathan? Especially when I knew how good it felt to surrender to my body’s craving for him? I was so done for. If the rock climbing didn’t get me, Mr Deadly out there in my hallway would.
***
The helicopter touched down safely in the grounds of North Lees Hall, a 17th century tower house near the Peak District town of Hathersage. I loosened the grip I’d had on Nathan’s hand throughout the journey, relieved to have solid ground under my feet once more.
Nathan grinned at me, adjusting his headset. ‘This is Stanage Edge, my favourite climbing spot.’ His words crackled through my headphones, but the excitement in his voice was palpable.
‘You come here a lot?’ We remained seated as the pilot powered down the helicopter, adjusting settings and making notes in his flight log.
Nathan’s grin dropped a degree or two. ‘Not so much these days.’ He shrugged. ‘But I used to come here all the time in my late teens.’
He gazed at the gritstone ridge in the distance, which rose up like the edge of the world. I swallowed down my apprehension, relieved when after a thumbs up from the pilot, Nathan reached over to undo my harness.
Helping me down from the helicopter, Nathan took my hand, only releasing me to pull a large hold-all from behind our seats. We crossed the field towards the hall, which was perched majestically atop the hill. I turned to admire the view—the rolling landscape crisscrossed with dry-stone walls spread out below us like a checked blanket.
‘Come on.’ Nathan tugged on my hand, his excitement bubbling over to infect me too as we laughed and hurried up the remaining slope.
At the hall, Sam, a local, experienced climber, who would be an extra pair of hands for the day, greeted us. While they checked their equipment and discussed the weather conditions and the best locations to climb, I observed Nathan. He mesmerised me. Joy spilled from him. This was his passion, and his enthusiasm and competence for a pastime I’d always considered dangerous and wholly unnecessary was a serious turn-on.
The short drive to the base of the cliff in Sam’s rickety Land Rover was enough time for my nerves to return with a vengeance. By the time we parked, my palms were slick and my heart thundered in my chest. I’d never done anything like this before.
Nathan squeezed the hand he still held and leaned in close so his lips were pressed to my temple. ‘I’m not going to let you fall. Trust me.’
I nodded, a feeble smile stretching my lips as adrenaline surged through my bloodstream.
We unloaded our gear from the back of the Land Rover and set off along the walking track for the base of the cliff.
It was a spectacular morning, the sun just peaking over the top of the twenty-metre-high edge. The steady climb through scrubby moorland was dotted with abandoned millstones, left there like buttons fallen from a giant’s cardigan.
The path split and Sam veered off to the right, a route that would take him to the top. Nathan and I turned left, following the base of the cliff, which stretched for miles amongst commanding scenery.
I filled my lungs with the crisp morning air, the clean damp scent a balm soothing my jitters. ‘It’s astounding. I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.’
‘My family holidays involved a lot of hiking. This is a popular climbing spot. When I turned sixteen, I asked for climbing lessons and I’ve been hooked ever since. You’ll love it.’
Dr Sensible entered the conversation. ‘But you don’t do it alone, right?’
‘My dad used to belay me in the beginning, then I made some climbing friends.’ He stopped, turning his head over his shoulder to grin at me. ‘Had some wild weekends up here, staying in youth hostels.’
‘I bet you did.’ The familiar stab lanced my gut.
He chuckled and carried on walking. After another ten minutes we reached an outcrop of rock and Nathan dropped his bag on the ground at its base. The massive stone slab stretched high above us, obliterating all but a narrow strip of clear blue sky. My head spun.
Nathan heeled off his trainers and pushed his jeans down over his hips and muscular thighs. My face heated, and I glanced the way we’d come to make sure we were alone. When I looked back to him, he was pulling on Lycra leggings similar to the pair I wore, a cocky smirk twisting his mouth.
‘I wanted to watch you change too, spoilsport.’ He winked at me before reaching inside the hold-all for ropes and harnesses. The predatory gleam was back in his eyes as he stalked closer. ‘Now I get to tie you up, Soph.’ He dropped enough strapping and carabineers to open an S and M club at our feet. Selecting a harness from the pile, he held open the straps and raised one eyebrow in challenge. ‘Step inside.’
I braced my hands on his bare forearms for balance as I stepped first one foot and then the other into the loops of the harness. I tried to ignore the feel of his soft hair under my palms and the heat radiating from his firm body, close enough I could smell the shower gel he’d used that morning.
‘Now, the most important thing about climbing’—he tugged the harness up over my hips, his fingers brushing my Lycra-clad thighs, his gaze dancing over my features and settling on my wide eyes—‘is that you should absolutely, one hundred per cent trust your belayer.’ He fastened the harness at the front and moved to the side to adjust the loops to closely hug my thighs. The straps pressed between my legs as he tugged and his breath tickled the side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine that had nothing to do with nerves.
‘What’s my belayer, because I’d really love to trust it? Do you know how many bones I’ll break if I fall from there?’ I pointed above me to the top of the cliff, which seemed forty storeys high.
Nathan walked behind me to adjust the other side of the harness, his hand trailing over the small of my back. ‘You’re not going to fall.’ He moved to stand in front of me, tugging on the metal ring at the front of the harness and yanking me forward until our chests collided. ‘And I am your belayer.’
His hands circled my waist, cupping over my backside until he found the straps below my cheeks and jerked them roughly towards him, whether to test the integrity of the harness
or to pull my pelvis to his, I wasn’t sure. But it was the latter that sent shock waves fizzing down to my toes and pooled heat in my sex.
Before I could comment, his mouth swooped down on mine, his lips gliding and expertly parting my own. I clung to his shirt as our tongues met, my heartbeat thundering in my ears and my mind wiped clean of any reservations I’d had. This was the contact I’d craved all morning while he’d teased and tortured me with almost kisses, hand holding and technical touch ensuring my safety. I sank into the kiss, re-living the connection we’d established yesterday.
He pulled back, his eyes still sparkling with excitement, but now smouldering too. His voice husked out, deep, dark and demanding. ‘So, do you trust me, or not?’
My life hung in the balance. Did I trust him? What was he asking me? Did I trust him to keep me safe on this rock face? Yes. He’d told me on the flight here he had more than ten years’ experience and thousands of hours of climbing under his belt. But his question, whilst on the face of it was about rock climbing, went deeper, exposing his vulnerabilities, and I wanted to be able to answer a blanket ‘yes’.
I nodded and a face-splitting grin lit him up. He smacked my right buttock and tugged on the harness one last time. ‘Beautiful girl.’
Leaving me to reel on shaky legs, he quickly donned his own harness, his movements confident and proficient. The Lycra and the harness showcased all his manly bits and I scoured the heather at my feet. I’d objectified him again.
When he was ready, he took my hand and drew me closer to the base of the cliff. ‘This climb is called Twinkle Toes.’ He grinned, winking at me. ‘It seemed appropriate. It’s one of the easiest.’ He squeezed my frigid fingers and pressed a quick reassuring peck on my lips. ‘You see those long horizontal cracks?’
I looked up at the almost sheer cliff face, which was layered like a cake, and nodded.
‘That’s where your hands and feet go.’ He handed me the shoes he’d bought for me and pulled his phone from his pocket. I sat on the heather to change shoes and in the next minute, a bright yellow rope arced through the sky to land a few metres away from us.
‘Sam is on top. There are anchor points up there. You’ll be attached at all times to the rock and if you slip, I’ll take up the slack and catch you, okay?’
My stomach lurched, but I nodded. I wanted to do this. I wanted to show him I trusted him, even though the thought terrified me.
His face turned solemn, his hand cupping my chin so he had my full attention. ‘You can go as far as you want and you can stop any time. I’ll lower you down.’
‘Let’s do it.’ My voice belied the flutter of hysteria threatening to burst forth at any moment. I focused on Nathan’s capable hands as he attached one end of the rope to my harness and fed the other end through a metal contraption that wouldn’t have looked out of place in an operating theatre, before attaching it to his own harness. He fed the rope through his hands, taking up the slack and encouraging me closer to the hard unyielding slab before me.
Close up, the gradient wasn’t as steep as I’d first thought and I relaxed a little, confident that I’d at least be able to get my feet off the ground and not embarrass myself entirely.
‘Right, Soph. You grip the cracks with your fingers and toes.’ He scaled the first slice of rock, his arms and legs spread-eagled. ‘Try to reach as high as you can to the next hand-hold so you climb on straight arms.’
His muscular back flexed as he reached above his head, and my dry mouth flooded with saliva.
‘When one foot is in the crack, just rest the other foot on the rock face to the side. This keeps your balance centred and stops you swinging around.’ He demonstrated the moves, making them look effortless. As he ran through a few more basic tips, I tried to focus, but the ripple of his back muscles under his shirt and the way the harness hugged his backside dragged my attention away from the life-saving information in his words.
‘Are you listening?’
‘Yes. I’m a visual learner. Keep demonstrating.’
He climbed down with as much grace and skill as he’d used to scale the sheer rock face. ‘Demo’s over. Your turn.’
I sighed, missing the visual treat of Nathan all Lycra-clad and energetic. I stepped forward, sliding my hands along the rock as if I could make it understand my life was in its hands.
‘Wait.’ Nathan stooped and pulled a safety helmet from his bag. He clasped it under his arm while he pushed the hair back from my face before lowering it onto my head. His lips twitched and his gaze danced over my face. No doubt I had hamster cheeks and resembled someone about to be shot out of a cannon. But if it stopped my brains spilling onto the rocks, I didn’t care.
When he was happy the strap was secure, he held my helmeted head in his hands, his expression turning serious. ‘Trust me. I’ll catch you.’ He pressed his lips to mine and then released me to my fate.
The first slice of rock was easy, little more than a boulder scramble. But as the distance between the ground and me increased, my brain shut down, empty to anything but blind panic and the thousand and one ways I could injure myself. I felt the rope tighten and forced my breathing to slow. He has me. Nathan has me.
‘You’re doing great. Well done. Reach for the next crack, Soph. I promise you I won’t let you fall.’
His words spurred me on, turning into a silent mantra in my head—He won’t let me fall. He won’t let me fall. I stretched my arm to the limit, sliding my fingers into the gap between the slabs of rock. To my right, my foot found a small ledge and with a surge of my leg muscles, I was up, clinging to the next layer of cliff face as euphoria pounded through my bloodstream.
Through the roaring in my head, I heard Nathan’s words of encouragement from below, and I took a second to enjoy the pride and respect in his voice.
‘Okay, I’m going a bit higher.’ The breeze whipped my words away, but he’d already anticipated my move, taking up the slack in the rope, my only lifeline, which was connected to him. After a few more slices, the muscles of my arms and legs screamed, pumping out lactic acid in protest of my demands. I peeked at the strip of sky, which was larger than it had looked from the ground. The top was in sight and the thrill of reaching it called to me, spurring me past fatigue and physical discomfort.
‘Soph, you’re almost there. Come on, baby. Go for it.’
My cheering committee of one kept up a stream of encouragement and tips until the last terrifying edge was in my hand and I was hauled up by a beaming Sam to sit at the top of the cliff I’d just conquered.
Nathan’s whoops could be heard from below, echoing around the escarpment and scattering frightened sheep. With a sense of accomplishment and joie de vivre coursing through me, I waved down at Nathan, laughing at his victory dance moves. Even with a crash helmet on he was sexy as sin.
Sam’s phone sounded, and he grinned as he answered and then passed it to me.
‘You are awesome. I can’t believe you got all the way to the top on your first go.’ Admiration and something else, something I recognised from our night together, deepened his voice. ‘I am so impressed, you beautiful girl.’
‘I always do what I set out to achieve.’ My breathlessness had nothing to do with the climb. ‘Thanks for keeping me safe.’
‘You’re welcome. I’ll belay you anytime, Soph, anytime.’
Warmth spread through me. ‘Am I coming down now?’
‘I’ll lower you down if you want, or you can wait up there for me. Enjoy the view.’
‘But who’ll hold the rope for you?’
Even his chuckle was husky, sexy. ‘I’ve climbed this ridge a hundred times. I’ll be good.’
Panic forced my words out in a rush. ‘Nathan, if you fall you could die, and we’re at least an hour from the closest hospital. I won’t be able to offer you anything more than first-aid and I can’t treat a head injury in a field of sheep.’
‘It’s nice to know you care. I knew you wanted that job as my private physician.’
‘Listen, beautiful girl. I promise not to fall, if you promise to come to my favourite pub with me tonight?’
‘Nathan—’
‘Tell Sam to take you to Chip Shop Brawl. I’ll meet you at the top.’
‘Nathan?’ But I was talking to the wind.
Chapter Twelve
I needn’t have worried. Nathan was as spectacular hanging from a rope thirty metres from the ground as he was on the big screen. In the great outdoors with little more than a harness and a helmet, he could be himself. No showmanship. No performance. Just a man.
For the first time he seemed real, tangible. And I very much wanted to touch. For the rest of the day he’d kept me at an arm’s length, guiding me around his old haunts when all I wanted to do was go back to the hall and remove his clothing with my teeth. But I employed some patience—I enjoyed getting to know him.
‘I like your favourite pub.’ The smell of soggy beermats and wood smoke from the open fire was a welcome one. I’d missed traditional British pubs while I’d been in New Zealand. This one was even decorated with horse brasses and paintings of hunting scenes.
‘Me too. I’m glad I could bring you here.’ His gaze travelled my features, landing on my mouth, and he leaned his upper body closer until his beer-scented breath tickled my lips. ‘You were amazing. Fearless.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far. I was definitely afraid.’ Fear of a different kind slammed into me as his proximity and the mesmeric quality of his green irises lured me back to the cliff’s edge. Stepping back to safety, I said, ‘So, no one bothers you here?’ I thought of the hordes of paparazzi we’d eventually evaded this morning. They’d followed us so far, but once we’d entered the building with the helipad on the roof, they were history. It had been fun besting them like that and I reasoned the more they chased us, the less they’d bother my family.
Leaning back, he shrugged. ‘The farmers don’t care who I am. They’re probably not rom-com fans.’