“So you’re trapped into not going to the media because you’d lose.” He shook his head. “You live in a damn weird world.”

“Lived,” she snapped. “Which is why I wanted out so bad. That, and because I really do love what we do.” She groaned happily, wiggling down farther. “I’m going to melt into the floor if you keep rubbing my feet. Can we not talk about Vincent anymore?”

“Last question. Would calling your father and letting him know any of this help?”

She considered for a moment, but the misery on her face only grew stronger. “If I mention anything about Vincent wanting my shares that’s going to open up the whole marriage issue. My dad would more likely ignore the suggestion it’s about taking control, and insist Vincent’s goal is to make a strong, political marriage—like the family suggested years ago. He’d join in to convince me Vincent was the catch of the century. He might even start his own media blitz to push us together. Those are the positive possibilities.”

“Shit. Worst case?”

“Worst case, he figures out some way to make you look bad—as if you’re the one who came between true love and financial happiness.”

“Hmm.” He exchanged her right foot for her left. “I’d be the other man, would I?”

“It’s not as fun as it sounds. You don’t need to be shredded in the media for something you didn’t do. I doubt Marcus and Lifeline would appreciate it, either.” She leaned back, glassy-eyed as she watched him strip off her second sock and start all over again. “I want Vincent gone, and I want to go on with my life. Poor, but contented.”

She sighed unhappily, then pulled out her cell phone. She stared at it as if it were a snake.

“You calling your father?”

“I . . . should. You’re right. He deserves a warning, and if he can help get Vincent back to Toronto, that would make me blissfully happy.”

She sounded so miserable his heart ached. “You don’t have to, but maybe your father will surprise you and pick door number three this time.”

Devon waited as she put through the call, concentrating on massaging her feet and distracting her from the wait as it took forever for her father to come on the line.

Alisha got straight to the point. “Vincent Monreal is in Banff, and acting very strange. I wondered if you knew anything—Well, of course, I’m certain. I saw him myself.”

She rolled her eyes as she listened to his response, frustration clearly rising. Obviously door number three didn’t involve her father accepting information with open arms.

“I don’t care if he’s supposed to be in Vancouver attending a symposium. He was in my apartment uninvited last night and . . .” She broke off, and glared at the wall. “Dad. Stop interrupting. I called because I’m concerned about Vincent, who is still here in Banff whether you believe it or not, but I’m also worried about you. Is everything okay with Bailey Enterprises?”

Her father answered.

Alisha’s forehead creased. “No, I’m not trying to be insulting. I heard . . . a rumour there might be some—”

She was cut off and remained silent for another thirty seconds. By the time she’d hung up Alisha was swearing lightly.

Devon sat silently, rubbing her calves as she slammed a fist against the floor. It took her a surprisingly short time before she let out a long, slow breath and pulled her arms into a yoga position of peace.

He smiled in spite of the frustration. “I take it that went well.”

“Vincent is in Vancouver, you know.”

“That wouldn’t be hard to disprove,” Devon pointed out.

Alisha waved a hand. “You know what? I tried. My father doesn’t want to believe me, and I’m not going to force the facts down his throat. We’ll deal with Vincent together for the few days before he has to return to Toronto. Not even he can pull off a magic trick that puts him in the Bailey Enterprises head office and Banff at the same time.”

She shook her head, sadness clear in her eyes.

Devon leaned over and caught her before she could escape. He kissed her softly, brushing his lips over hers in a tender caress. When he pulled away, she was smiling a lot more than the moment before.

“What was that for?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Because you’re the bravest woman I know. Because I’m honoured you trusted me enough to share your concerns. Because your heart is in the right place.”

Alisha beamed at him. “Oh, you are so getting lucky tonight.”

“Well, if you insist.”

She laughed and scrambled forward, and suddenly words were put aside, and the sexual tension that was always present between them raced back up to full. Devon enjoyed the way she crawled into the middle of the room, then knelt with her chin slightly lowered so she gazed through her lashes.

* * *

His lips curled upward as he looked her over, the kind of smile that promised all sorts of naughty things.

She shivered, trying to decide what she wanted tonight, but the first and only thing that came to mind was that she didn’t want to decide. After everything that had happened, after her father had basically accused her of outright lying, she wanted to shove all of that bullshit aside and concentrate on what she knew was good and right in her world.

Concentrate on the way that Devon could make her feel desirable and wanted and passionately alive. “So you had a list of things to try with me. What’s next?”

Devon raised a brow. “You’re serious?”

Alisha waited. Took a deep breath. “Looks like you’re in charge, Mr. Leblanc. What’s the protocol for this rescue?”

His eyes lit up as he figured out her somewhat awkwardly worded suggestion. “What’re your limits?”

“No means no. Beyond that?” She shrugged. “Unless you’ve got extreme kinks you’ve managed to keep secret from me during school and the time on the team, which isn’t likely, I can handle and enjoy anything you want to hand out.”

Devon got to his feet and stepped closer to where she knelt. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. “The only one on the team who’s keeping secrets is Erin. The rest of us are pretty up front about what turns us on.”

He stroked her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear before striding away to the bathroom. Alisha checked out his ass as he went and, when he returned, the bulge rising at his crotch. His comments and the visual indulgence before her were enough to distract her from wondering what his plans were. “Erin has secrets?” Alisha asked.

“Let’s focus on right here and what we like instead of wondering what kinks rev our pilot’s engine.” The condom he’d gone to grab waited on the coffee table. He stepped in front of her again and palmed his erection, fisting himself through the loose fabric.

Alisha swallowed hard.

Devon hummed in approval even as he continued to stroke, his wrist twisting as he worked. “I love your expression. It’s somewhere between panic and full-out lust. Take off your shirt, Alisha,” he ordered.

She grasped the bottom and stripped the soft cotton over her head, working to slow her breathing now that there was barely anything to hide how excited she was.

Devon strolled around her slowly, giving her ample time to admire the flex of his muscles, the firm cuts of his abdominal muscles and strong curves of his biceps. “You’re so delicious to look at,” she breathed softly.

He trailed his fingers over her shoulders. “Delicious? I like that.” His voice lowered a tone. “Lose your pants and get back on your knees.”

A shiver took her as she hurried to follow his directions. She had an aching need in her core, wetness growing between her legs as she scrambled into position. Her outer clothing was abandoned on the floor by the couch. “I should have taken off my panties.”

Devon lowered himself slowly as he deliberately stroked his fingertips down her torso. Over her collarbone, along the edge of her bra. Her skin tingled as he carried on all the way past her belly button. “Your panties are fantastic. They’re going to come in handy.”

She held her breath as he circled the tiny bow at the front of the silk covering her mound. Tiny motions that inched down so slowly, she was shaking with anticipation before he pressed over her clit.

“Oh, very nice, Alisha. So. Damn. Wet. I could slide right in, couldn’t I?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he pushed harder, and the moisture-softened fabric gave way slightly. His fingers entered her core. Just enough that he could tease, circling her pussy entrance, his thumb extended upward to graze her clit again and again.

The urge to thrust her hips forward was impossible to resist. She opened her legs wider and rocked against his hand.

He held her by the back of the neck, locking her in place as he stared into her eyes. “You’re wet, but you’re not wet enough. You’re going to come before we do anything else. Soak your panties. I’m going to get you so wet your thighs are coated.”

She gasped for air as he increased pressure, and that was when he kissed her. Rough, nearly wild. His tongue thrusting in deep and matching the rhythm of his fingers. She caught him around the shoulders and held on tight, her nails digging into his skin, his muscles flexing under greedy hands she couldn’t keep still.

When he shoved aside the fabric and impaled her on his fingers, she cried out. Her head fell back as he played her, her body shaking as if she were possessed. Sensitive pressure points deep inside were stroked unmercifully, and when she couldn’t take it any longer, he put his teeth to her neck and bit down.

Her climax burst like a firework, bright lights before her eyes and roaring noises in her ears. Alisha shook as Devon held her vertical and let her sheath squeeze around his thick fingers.

When she could draw a deep breath, he was smiling.

“Good?” he asked.

She nodded. “Very good.”

Then she was on her back on the thick carpet, her bra being pulled forward along with her arms. Devon wrapped the loose banding around her wrists, tying her arms together in front of her.

Alisha tugged, but she was firmly trapped. “I’m impressed. That was what, five seconds? Ten?”

Devon loomed over her, his sexy smile making her heart rate keep pounding. “My turn,” he whispered.

He straddled her, pressed down the top of his sweats. His cock leapt free, the thick length rising up to tap his abdomen. Alisha licked her lips.

Devon grinned wider, the blue of his eyes sparkling as he angled closer. “That’s right, get your lips nice and wet. Suck my cock. Get me hard.”

“I think you’re hard already,” Alisha teased. She let him press the heavy crown to her pouting lips, opening slowly as he added pressure.

It was worth it to hear his deep sigh of satisfaction. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Devon drew back and forth for a dozen slow, deliberate strokes before shuddering and pulling out. He panted a few times, his eyes closed tight before he caught her again and kissed her.

She laughed softly when he rearranged her on a cushion he stole from the seat of the couch. “Nearly lost it, did you?”

“Jesus, your mouth is a danger zone. I wasn’t ready to blow.”

She was going to make some comment about “blowing his mind,” but he was over her again, his mouth on her breast as he sucked her nipple hard, and she decided talking was highly overrated.

It went on and on. With her hands tied together, her breasts were thrust upward, making it easier for him to palm her. To lift her nipple and play over the hardened tip until she squirmed. He’d lave it gently with his tongue. Use the edge of his teeth to the edge of pain.

Then start all over again.

She wanted to wait. Wanted him to set the pace, but it was too exquisite a torture. “Fuck me, please.” The words escaped breathlessly. Aching.

Begging.

If she’d been needy before, she was throbbing now.

Devon put on the condom before he caught her by the knees and lifted her legs into the air. His gaze fixed on her sex and ass as he used one hand to hold her feet toward the ceiling, the other to slip a hand over her panties.

“Oh yes.” He smiled, then pulled the fabric to her knees.

The move surprised her. It didn’t allow her to open her legs, pull him to her and take his cock. She was still trapped, her legs thrust into the air.

He rose up on his knees as he pressed her limbs closer to her torso. “Oh yes, very nice.”

He smiled as he rubbed the head of his cock between her labia, and Alisha shook. He adjusted his angle to fuck between her tightly closed legs, not entering her, but nicking her clit again and again.