Devon couldn’t speak for a moment. He’d told Marcus some positive, happy crap, but he couldn’t say the words anymore. “I don’t know. God, I don’t know.”

They held each other tightly, the pain and uncertainty horrific, but being together making it tolerable. Memories swirled around him and he couldn’t take it any longer. “I need to tell you something.”

She paused in the middle of stroking his neck, her fingers gentle on muscles that had grown weary from remaining tight and clenched.

“My dad—he’s . . .”

Her eyes narrowed when he didn’t continue. God, how could he continue? He had to.

“You know how my siblings are a pain in the ass? They don’t think I’ll ever grow up. Ever amount to anything.”

Alisha shook her head. “They’re idiots. We’ve established that.”

Devon shook his head. “They’re not completely. They’re going on what they know. On what I’ve done. Dad’s in that wheelchair because of me, and we all know that’s the truth.”

Alisha leaned on her elbow, staring in confusion. “How is it your fault?”

Devon stared at the ceiling, unable to meet her eyes any longer. “I was riding with him when it happened. We were far out from the house, just farting around. It wasn’t anything different than a hundred times except it was. We were the only ones riding that day.” Devon laughed bitterly. “You know how often that happened in a family the size of mine? There was always someone else around, but that day it was me and him, and it was special. Then I decided we should have a race. I jumped the gun, you know, one of those, ready, set and then leave before you say go?”

She leaned over and he couldn’t avoid her eyes unless he actually twisted away. “Go on.”

He didn’t think anymore, just said it. “For some reason, his horse spooked. I didn’t even notice he wasn’t with me until I was at the top of the next ridge. I thought he was kidding around and left him behind. Heck, I unsaddled and curried down my horse before I figured something was wrong. When I finally went to look, he wasn’t moving.”

Sorrow filled Alisha’s face. “That must have been devastating.”

“It gets worse. I went back and he was just lying there. Dust on him, his horse waiting uneasily.” Pain squeezed around his heart as he remembered what came next. As he wished he could turn back the clock and change what he’d done. “God, Alisha. I moved him.”

Her eyes widened.

“I didn’t know how stupid it was, but I should have. Should have realized going to get help was the better solution, but no, I woke him and while he was still dazed got him to sit and then stand. He could barely stay upright, but I was all eager to be helpful after feeling guilty for abandoning him.”

He’d had no idea what real guilt felt like until later.

Alisha sat up beside him. She cupped his cheek tenderly. “How old were you?”

“Ten.”

She frowned. “Oh, Devon. There was no way you could have known to leave him. When I was ten, if someone had fallen down I would have done the same thing.”

Devon continued. “It was one reason I went into search and rescue. I took all my first-aid courses and learned what to do so I wouldn’t make stupid mistakes anymore. Working with Lifeline has been such a rewarding experience.” He let out a long slow sigh. “But it doesn’t change the past. Doesn’t make my father able to walk, or allow the family to forgive me. They don’t trust me—whether that’s right or wrong, I don’t know. But it was a turning point in my life. Losing their trust changed me. Changed my direction in life.”

He sat up and pulled her into his arms, needing the warmth of her against him as he continued.

“I told you that to tell you this. Being a part of Lifeline was another turning point. But the bigger one was meeting you. Having you toss my lazy-ass don’t give a shit attitude in my face? You made me take notice of the stupid things I was doing.”

Alisha tilted her head to one side. “You weren’t stupid.”

He gave her a look.

She smiled softly. “Well, maybe a little.”

“I was wasting my time. Cruising through because I had the talent to get by without working, and as my family liked to tell me, I wouldn’t get it right anyway. Why should I try harder? I’d slack-assed my way through swim team, and it cost me making the national team. Even though I came to the search-and-rescue school for the right reasons, I was stuck with that shitty attitude. Putting out minimal effort, getting by. Somewhere in the top half of the class, but nowhere spectacular. You challenged me. Told me to grow up, and I did. We kicked ass at school because of you. That top placing got us on Lifeline, and for the first time in my life since my dad’s accident I could honestly say I was in the right place.”

He cupped her cheek, stroking his thumb along her jaw. “People trust me with their lives, and I don’t let them down. And you’re part of why I got there. You made a difference, and I never thanked you for it.”

She blinked hard, her eyes wet with tears. “If I pushed you, you brought me up to the top at the same time. I don’t think either of us would be where we are if it weren’t for the competitions, and the never-ending challenge to do more. So, thank you.”

* * *

They clung to each other for a moment, Alisha soaking in his warmth. The kindness of his words. She tried to put it all in perspective with the crash and the accident and the uncertainty of Xavier’s future.

When Devon lifted her chin and pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss, her heart skipped a beat. Passion flared again, heating them as he stroked a hand down her back to pull her against him as their tongues lazily explored.

It wasn’t wrong, this sharing. A celebration of life and togetherness even as they were scared and nervous for Xavier. Emotion enveloped her as Devon stroked and teased and brought her to the point where she was quivering with the need for release.

Then he slowed, slipped his cock into her, and she sighed. The blue of his eyes shone like a summer’s sky over her as he slowly rolled his hips and made love to her. Not frantic sex, not a ravishing, but a perfect sharing.

Devon kissed her, his tongue teasing gently. When he pulled away, it was just far enough to look her in the eyes. She was being consumed by the intensity of his gaze. By the emotions right there, undeniable and potent.

“I love you.” The words whispered out as he continued to take her, their bodies intimately connected.

Alisha clutched his shoulders harder, being overwhelmed by the intensity. “Oh, Devon.”

He said it again, this time against her cheek. “I love you. I love your fire, your courage. Your giving heart.” He kissed her ear. Her neck. Over her face and body as he gathered her in his arms and continued to pepper her with kisses.

She knelt on either side of his hips, still connected, still rocking over him. Their bodies so tight together nothing seemed able to separate them. Tension rose; pleasure spread through her core and threaded over her body in a powerful way. When he tugged her back far enough to look into her eyes again, she held on for dear life as her climax hit and took him along, the two of them wrapped in pleasure and a type of unity she’d never expected to find.

She laid her head on his chest and let their racing heartbeats settle. Bodies slick together, panting breaths easing. Alisha had never felt this way before, and allowing the joy to spread through her as she soaked in his words and his actions—it was right.

Was it love? It was pretty incredible, whatever they wanted to call it. She didn’t think she needed to say anything, just snuggled tight against him and slowly relaxed into slumber.

When she woke earlier than Devon, it was to warm limbs tangled with hers, his arms enfolding her as if he would never let her go. She listened to his breathing, the strong, even sound grounding her in spite of her fears about Xavier.

She slipped from the bed and pulled on a T-shirt, pacing to the kitchen to turn on the kettle. Outside the sun hadn’t reached over the mountain yet, the sky bright but shadows filling the backyard. It seemed an eerie place between worlds with the light blocked from the corners, and she shivered.

It was tempting to hurry back to bed. To wake Devon and let him chase the ghosts from her mind. Only she wasn’t going to wake him simply to comfort her, like some kid. She could wait.

To distract herself she checked her phone messages and e-mail, frowning to discover a message from Vincent. She’d thought she’d ditched him and the whole issue of leaving Banff. She clicked it.

Meet me at eight. My suite.

God. He was still in town? Or in town again?

She opened the attachment. Stopped in shock. It was an engagement announcement for Alisha Bailey and Vincent Monreal. All the information organized like a press release, and the accompanying picture—them at the Banff Springs that first evening, his head intimately close to hers as if leaning to whisper secrets.

This was total and utter bullshit. Vincent’s continuing to bother her when she had far more serious matters to deal with did nothing but piss her off.

There was nothing in the e-mail to take to the police in terms of being illegal, but God, it was wrong to the very core. He’d had someone secretly take a picture even way back then? Outrageous. Alisha swore a blue streak and stomped into the kitchen to make coffee, hoping some caffeine would inspire her. Help her to deal with this . . . insanity.

She checked her watch. Thirty minutes until Vincent expected her to meet him. She glanced in the bedroom. Devon was still asleep, one arm over his head as his chest moved slowly with each breath. If she woke him she knew he’d come along in an instant. Be backup support—a safety net. Part of her wanted that so badly. To allow him to be the block between her and Vincent’s continuing crazy ideas.

Devon said he loved her. She was pretty sure she loved him, and the thought made her smile in spite of her anger at Vincent. In spite of her fears for Xavier.

Love. It had snuck up and wrapped around her.

Having the two men meet right now would only tangle the issues further, but she wasn’t about to make the same mistake she’d made the first time Vincent had frightened her.

She dressed quickly before sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking Devon’s arm gently. “Hey, wake up. I need to talk to you.”

His eyelids fluttered open, his gaze sharpening as he rolled to a sitting position. “Xavier?”

She shook her head. “No news yet. I got another e-mail from Vincent, and I’m ready to kick his fine-suited ass back to Toronto.”

All the sleep haze vanished. “What did he do now?”

“More of the same. Sent me a stupid engagement announcement, as if he’s planning on handing it out to the media. I’ve had enough of the asshole jerking me around, Devon. I’m going to talk to him and tell him he can shove his threats up his ass. He can make any bloody announcement he wants—I’ll deny it, and that’s it.”

Devon held her hands to stop her from flailing them in the air. “What about your dad? The company?”

“Nothing. I don’t care.” She took a deep breath and calmed herself, slipping one hand free to cup his face. “You said it last night. Focus on what’s important—the people who are important. I’ll call my father and give him a warning, but beyond that I don’t owe any of them anything.”

“I’ll come with you,” Devon said.

She pressed her fingers over his mouth, gently stroking his lips. “I’ll meet him in the lobby, or somewhere public, but I want to do this by myself.” His face tightened, and she frowned. “I mean it. I’m not being stupid, but I don’t want you to come with me and have this end up some kind of public brawl.”

“You don’t trust me to keep my temper?”

Alisha growled in frustration. “I don’t trust Vincent not to take the first swing, then find a way to pin it on you. Please, stay here. I’ll be back within the hour.”

She kissed him before he could protest again. He crushed her closer, his hands curling possessively around her lower back before setting her free.

“I don’t like it,” he complained.

Alisha backed away, letting his hands slip from hers. “I know, but thank you for letting me do this my way. I’ll call you if there’s any trouble. I promise.”

She tried Marcus’s number, but his phone went to messages. The rest of the short trip she fretted about Xavier and planned her approach with Vincent. More diplomacy was required than storming up to him and hitting him on the head with a large, blunt object.