High Passion

by Vivian Arend

  “I suggested there was no harm in your coming to the school here in Banff. That a chance to try something different would do you good, perhaps help you work your unhappiness out of your system. You’ve done well during your time away, and I’m very proud you—I even gave a donation to your school to prove how much I respect what you’ve done. Only now it’s time for you to make plans to move on. Put this childishness behind you, and return to where you belong.”

  Her shock at one part of that announcement made it tough to comprehend the rest of what he’d said. “You gave what?”

  Vincent smiled, obviously pleased with himself. “They supported you while you spread your wings, but now that it’s time for you to return home—”

  “I’m not a bloody pigeon you can call home to the roost.” It hadn’t been her father, but Vincent who’d interfered? Anger replaced her confusion. “This is my life, Vincent. You had no right to try to organize, or suggest, or do anything in it.”

  “I was giving you a chance to have time to yourself. Five years wasn’t a long time to wait in the big picture.” He stroked the silky fabric covering her arms, the back of his knuckles causing a warning shiver to race along her spine. “Five years to sow your wild oats before returning to where you belong. Although I do hope you haven’t taken the old interpretation of that phrase too literally.”

  Around them the tinkle of wineglasses and gold flatware on china plates combined with the live piano music playing delicately in the corner of the room. Waiters stood at discreet intervals, but she couldn’t seem to catch one’s eye with the invitation to interrupt, and soon.

  She and Vincent must have looked far too intimate to interrupt, which was so not what she wanted.

  This entire conversation was off the tracks and headed for a cliff, and she’d had enough. Alisha lifted her chin and went for broke to regain control. “It’s none of your business if I’ve fucked my way through half of Banff. I am not going back in a year’s time. I have a home here. I have a job. I . . . have a boyfriend.”

  Tossing the lie out was reckless and wrong, but it felt necessary.

  Her fib partially worked. For the first time since the evening had begun, Vincent retreated.

  “You do? One of your co-workers, perhaps?” Vincent poured her more wine, settling back in his chair.

  “Again, none of your business.” Alisha hauled in the last dregs of politeness she could in one final attempt to halt the confusion between them. “Vincent, I feel as if you’ve gotten the mistaken idea that you and I are some kind of couple, or headed that way in the future. I’m not interested in a relationship with you other than as a family friend. I came out with you tonight to be polite. Now that this conversation has crossed into far too personal territory, it’s time to stop.”

  Her outburst took him by surprise, and he seemed to reconsider, taking time to look around the room as he rearranged silverware and fussed with his place setting. Another change of plates occurred, their main courses arriving. Alisha calculated how much longer she needed to stay, or if they had reached the point where she could simply get up and leave.

  Vincent’s long sigh kept her in place for another moment. He nodded slowly before carefully lowering his voice. “I had planned on waiting until you returned because I didn’t want to burden you, but if you truly are planning on staying in Banff, you’ve left me no choice than to broach this now. I’m worried about your father.”

  She blinked, but the puzzle pieces refused to fall in the right direction. “What does me staying in Banff have to do with my father?”

  Vincent cut into his steak, the edge of the blade slicing through the thick flesh smoothly, red-tinged juices rushing from the cut. “You know your father has controlling interest of Bailey Enterprises. He’s been making unwise decisions lately, Alisha. I’m concerned for the future of the company. If he continues this way he’ll end up destroying everything he’s worked so hard to achieve.”

  Well, not a way to motivate her to change her plans. “So?”

  He pulled back in undisguised shock. “Your father could lose everything. You couldn’t possibly want that.”

  “I couldn’t care less.” Her father had done the cutting off up to now, not her. “I have a roof over my head, and a job. I don’t need the millions that seem to be all that keeps him happy. If he can’t make the right business decisions, then he’ll have to lose it all.”

  Vincent’s jaw hung open for a second before he pulled himself together. “Those are the words of an ungrateful little girl.”

  She shrugged. “While I’m thankful for the benefits I received from my family when I was young, since I left home everything I’ve done has been on my own merits. Calling me ungrateful isn’t a threat.”

  His dark eyes flashed, this time with something more like anger, and Alisha paused as she realized if the company failed, her father wouldn’t be the only one to lose.

  “Oh, Vincent. I’m sorry. I didn’t even consider the impact Bailey Enterprises going under would have on you. You’re serious? It’s gotten that bad?”

  He nodded. “Within the year if his mismanagement continues.”

  While Alisha still wasn’t highly motivated to do anything, it was a lot tougher to simply blurt that out when one of the people whose livelihood was threatened by her father’s supposed incompetence was right there in front of her.

  She tried to sound sympathetic. “I don’t see what difference I could make, Vincent, going back to Toronto. My father does have the majority of shares, and he’s not about to ask my advice in running the company even if I do return.”

  Vincent gave her an earnest look. “If you add my shares to yours we have more than him.”

  Alisha laughed. “What shares? Maybe you didn’t hear the news, but I don’t get my shares until I’m thirty-five. I would willingly sell them to you—I have no interest in running the company—but that antiquated requirement in my grandfather’s will means you’ll have to wait nine years before I can access them.”

  He shook his head. “Too late and too little. There is another solution, and one that I think would benefit us both.”

  She waited.

  He raised a brow. “You could take advantage of the loophole in your grandfather’s will.”

  Loophole?

  What he’d said finally sank in and she went numb.

  Oh. My. God.

  Vincent sat back in his chair and smiled.

  Alisha’s jaw hung open until she caught herself. “You’re insane,” she muttered. “Did you just . . . propose to me?”

  He nodded. “It’s a simple solution, really. As soon as we’re married you’ll receive your shares, and with our joint influence I’ll be able to take control. Together we could save the company.”

  Alisha picked up her wine and drank far too deeply. She needed something to combat the ringing in her ears that cautioned that her internal comment about him being insane had not been off the mark. She clutched the glass for a moment, staring out the window beside her at the twinkling lights decorating the thick stone balconies and tall black-iron posts. The mountains of the Bow Valley range beyond the ground of the hotel were blurred, fading into the clouds and the haze of nightfall.

  This couldn’t be real. She’d slipped into a dream world—nightmare world—and she had to say the right words to break the spell, or she’d be trapped here forever.

  “I’m honoured you consider us a good match, but we’re not in love.”

  Vincent didn’t shift position. He didn’t change expression. “I didn’t mention being in love. I don’t expect it, even though I think we’d suit each other well.”

  This was unbelievable. “That’s a little trite, isn’t it? Getting married to save the company? Because there’s an important dynasty to be preserved—”

  “Isn’t there?” Vincent moved now, capturing her fingers again before she could pull away. “I’m going about this all wrong. I do care for you. Don’t mistake my lack of gushing for indifference. I simply se
e no reason to pretend unnecessary emotions.”

  “And I see no reason to pretend this isn’t some monumental joke. I’m sorry, but I’m not marrying you. Not to save the company. I’ve chosen a different life, and I do not want to go back to the old one.” She shook her head at the impossibility of it all. “Please, Vincent. There are other options. Convince my father to change business tactics, or find someone who will sell you the shares you need so you can take control and fix things. I’d sell you mine if I could access them—but I’m not for sale.”

  “You think I haven’t tried to find another solution?” Vincent demanded. “I’ve gone over all the options, and it’s the only possibility. I had hoped you would agree to a short engagement and quick wedding, but if you have a boyfriend, that complicates matters. You’ll have to find a reasonable explanation to call it off. Soon. Once you’ve done that, we’ll wait a few weeks, then announce our engagement, and we could still be married by Christmas.”

  He hadn’t listened to a single thing she’d said. “I. Am. Not. Marrying. You. Why is that so hard for you to accept?”

  Vincent shrugged. “It’s in your best interest.”

  She glared, arms folded over her chest. “Don’t threaten me.”

  “What have I said that was threatening?” He laughed, glancing around the room in amusement, his smile shining out to the world his supposed happiness. “I offered you a proposal of marriage. Hardly front-page news.” His face tightened, and suddenly he wasn’t so handsome anymore. “Unless you want to tell them everything I’ve mentioned tonight. Wouldn’t that information look wonderful splashed everywhere in the media.”

  She clutched the arms of the chair so hard her fingers ached.

  “No, Alisha. Even if you don’t mind your father losing everything, I don’t see you as the type to enjoy causing his downfall.” The sorrowful smile on his lips didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, that would be horrific, wouldn’t it? You, announcing your father’s incompetency to run the company? That kind of press would undoubtedly lead to a drop in stock value, and set off what you claim to not care about.”

  “I would never get involved in that manner. I simply want to be left alone.” She hated that she was nearly begging.

  “I agree. Forcing your father to be hurt like that would be cruel.” He ignored her real concerns again and pressed the issue. “It would be so much better to take a different approach regarding the media—perhaps announcing a far more lighthearted news item. Alisha Bailey being courted by Vincent Monreal, the two of us madly in love. One call, and I could have the paparazzi here—”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  He motioned with both hands as if he were soothing a wild animal. “I think we’ve discussed this enough. You’re upset, and I can appreciate that hearing about your father’s incompetence has been shocking news. Once you’ve had time to process it, I think you’ll agree that marrying me is the best—”

  “Dammit, Vincent. Listen to me.”

  He focused on his plate as if she hadn’t even spoken. “Eat your dinner, it’s getting cold.”

  The man was impossible. “I’m not hungry,” she snapped.

  “You are being terribly rude.” Vincent lifted the wine bottle as if to refill her glass and finish the meal. As if the entire conversation hadn’t just headed off into crazyland.

  Alisha left. She didn’t look back. Didn’t glance over her shoulder to see if he was watching her. She knew he was, though. Felt it.

  His scrutiny wasn’t like the constant surveillance Devon had kept over the years. This was cold. Calculating.

  She pulled out her phone as she waited for her car to be brought around, her fingers hovering over the link to call Devon.

  The impossibility of it all made her pause. What would she tell him?

  Vincent had . . . proposed to her? Intended to use her to take over the company? The whole situation was unbelievable. Heck, she’d give Vincent her shares if that were possible. She hadn’t lied—she didn’t want any part of her old life.

  If she had to struggle to pay the bills her entire life, it would be worth it as long as she got to be in the mountains doing something incredibly valuable.

  To Vincent and her father, she was nothing but a game piece to be used and moved to their best advantage. Even if Vincent had lied about the business side of things, one part was true—her father did expect her to return in a year, all her wild passions satisfied. Prepared to be a quiet, docile member of the family. She’d never intended to return. This . . . option . . . offered by Vincent didn’t encourage her, either.

  Only this wasn’t something she could explain to Devon. How could she explain it when she could barely comprehend it?

  She pushed her phone into her purse and got back into her car, the ride home colder and lonelier than she ever remembered.

  CHAPTER 12

  It was far too early for the phone to ring. Devon blinked through the haze in his vision as his body responded to the call-out from Lifeline faster than his brain. He was on his feet. Pouring himself into his gear, waking up enough to get himself to respond. A glance at his watch showed he’d actually slept in, which he must have needed considering he still felt like hell.

  The short trip to the Lifeline building passed in a blur.

  “Looks as if we’ve hit stupid season early.” Marcus’s voice carried over the speakers in HQ as they scrambled to gather gear. “Sorry I’m not there, but I got stuck in Calgary last night. I didn’t expect another emergency so soon. Lana will be your contact in the office for any information you need.”

  Lana waved at them from behind the call desk, already on the phone with their contact and relaying flight information details to Erin.

  “I’m on lead,” Anders called out. “We’ll be fine, Marcus. We’ll keep you posted. Now get off the line and let us do our job.”

  “Bastard.” Marcus laughed. “Everyone stay safe and good luck.”

  A rush of energy surged as they got ready. Devon paused to pour an extra coffee and set it before Lana, and she flashed him a huge smile without pausing her task.

  Teamwork. The smooth coordination flowing around him eased the pre-rescue butterflies that came no matter how many times they did this.

  Devon hurried with the rest of them into the chopper. Alisha looked nearly as bleary-eyed as he felt, but otherwise she appeared in complete control. It had been a couple of days since their explosive sexual release, but he hadn’t been in a rush to contact her, and neither, it seemed, had she craved his company. They were back to keeping their distance.

  Fine. As long as she was on task right now, he’d deal with the other situation later today.

  “At least it’s a decent hour.” Xavier’s nonstop banter arrived as usual. “Daylight will make it easier for the search. Anders? What’s the word?”

  “Lana? Want to fill in the gaps?”

  “Guide took inexperienced paddlers down the Selkirk River. There’s more than one set of class five rapids and at least two impassable class six falls—and the expected happened. Guide is missing along with one other canoe, so there are four possible victims.” Her voice purred over the headsets, and Devon found himself nodding—having a contact who was easy to listen to was a nice change from Marcus’s far more gravelly tones.

  Devon bet she was glad she’d had time to recover from her little drinking session, though.

  Lana continued. “The third canoe was found trapped in a logjam. The two who were in her made the call for help. It’s been three days since they started the trip—it took that long for them to find their way out of the bush.”

  Anders jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a local SAR team patrolling the river downstream from where the canoe was found. The valley widens so they can cover the territory pretty easily. We’re heading upstream into the mountains. Erin can manoeuvre through most of the canyon. If she can’t clear a section, we’ll have to drop in to check the territory on foot.”

  “Descending on the winc
h?” Alisha asked.

  “If it works.” Anders shook his hand. “We’re talking narrow-gauge canyons in that area.”

  He pulled out a map and laid it flat. Devon leaned forward with the rest of them, highly aware of Alisha on his left, her leg next to his as she wiggled to get a better view. She didn’t seem overly stressed about the upcoming rescue.

  He focused on the region Anders was highlighting.

  “They put in the canoes at this point. Following the river, and with the news from the two that made it out, we know they were fine until this point.” Anders stabbed the map with a finger. “That’s when the group got separated.”

  Tripp made a rude noise. “That’s the first set of rapids, and it’s not even technically challenging. Bunch of idiots. What was the guide thinking?”

  “If they had problems with those bumps, they’d never have made it through here.” Xavier tapped the map where there was a noticeable change in elevation. “Did they even know how to park the boats to portage around the falls?”

  “Good question.” Anders stared into the air as he issued an order. “Lana, find out if the survivors were briefed about portaging. If they were, we’ll have to check the trees more thoroughly.”

  “Got it.” Lana jumped on the line, a faint crackle of background noise from the radios in the office carrying with her words. “Weather warnings just rolled in from Environment Canada. Erin, you have high winds coming in ahead of the storm front.”

  “Affirmative. Thanks for the heads-up.” Erin spoke over her shoulder on the chopper-only line. “So far the newbie isn’t doing so bad.”

  Devon adjusted his collar. High-wind warnings almost guaranteed they would be climbing and going on foot for parts of the rescue. Beside him, Alisha had closed her eyes, hands folded easily in her lap.

  The urge to reach over and grasp her fingers flashed out of the blue. It made him wonder.

  The travel time passed too quickly. Everyone changed position to look out the windows, eyes peeled for the sight of any kind of civilization. The bright orange marker the local SAR crew had placed at the canoe site glowed like a violent gash in the greens and browns of the local foliage.