Vivian Arend - High Passion

She picked up on his clues and nodded. “At the pool, right?”

Vincent watched them like a hawk, his coat now draped over a chair back and his suit jacket undone.

The man was wearing a goddamn suit and tie in Banff, for fuck’s sake.

Devon had no idea why he was sticking around. Anger and frustration made him lash out the only way he could think of on the spur of the moment. If she’d planned on a lovely relaxing morning sleep-in with Mr. Suit, forget it.

“Yes, the pool. Six A.M.” He ignored the flash of dismay in her eyes and turned to give Vincent a quick send-off, grabbing a business card from his pocket. “Vince. Nice to meet you. Let me know if you need a guide while you’re in town.”

“Devon,” Vincent intoned, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I’ll give you a call.”

Devon grabbed his coat from the hook on the wall but didn’t bother to put it on as he escaped down the stairs. His irritation only grew when he spotted the shiny rental Ferrari parked behind his junker.

Figures. Right when he finally got a break on getting to know Alisha better, it was probably too late. First time he’d ever been in her apartment, even if it was for a sucky reason, and she’d shoved him out the door as soon as some rich visitor from out of town called her sweetheart.

Devon kicked the tire of his truck before throwing his bag into the back and crawling into the cab. There was only one way to deal with frustration like this. He ignored the turn toward his house and headed to the gym. Lifeline wouldn’t get called out on another rescue for at least a day. One more bout of pain would be a good way to exhaust himself before he figured out exactly how to deal with the evasive Miss Bailey.

* * *

Alisha stood to one side, fighting to calm herself and not jump to conclusions.

The apartment seemed smaller than ever as Vincent paced through the living room, his dark head inclined slightly as he paused to stare out the window. It had been years since she’d seen him last, but he hadn’t changed a bit. She wasn’t a young, fascinated child anymore, but even as an adult she had to admit the aura of power that had always clung to him was still there.

“Vincent. You have surprised me. Bailey Enterprises has business in Banff?”

His smile made him even more handsome. “Some business, but more importantly, I wanted to say hello. It’s been too long.”

“Two Christmases ago, I think.” Alisha had no doubts about the timing. She’d taken a rare trip back to Toronto and spent the entire visit avoiding the attempts from her parents to set her up with Vincent.

She wasn’t interested, not then, not now, but as long as he didn’t try to act on her parents’ behalf and force the other issue regarding their supposed deadline, she could be polite.

He glanced around the small apartment, then cleared his throat. “It’s . . . homey.”

“It’s more than enough room for me,” she stated plainly.

“For now, I suppose. You’ll find something bigger when you return to Toronto.” He pulled out a chair and sat gingerly, as if he’d get cooties from her thrift shop furniture.

“My job is based in Banff. Kind of hard to live in Toronto and commute all the way across the country for rescue calls.”

“Right.” Vincent tapped the chair next to him. “Sit.”

She was about to fall asleep on her feet. She wasn’t looking for a long conversation. “I’m actually really tired right now, Vincent. If you’d like to get together in a couple days, I can—”

“Sit.” The word snapped out, before he coughed and spoke softer. “Please.”

Alisha edged the chair out and farther away before she lowered herself into it, uneasy at his strange behavior.

He smiled again, leaning back in his chair and looking her over carefully. “I’m impressed, you know, that you haven’t come running home sooner.”

A flash of anger hit, and she lowered her eyes to the table to hide it. “I’m good at what I do, and I enjoy my job.”

“Your father insists it’s a hobby. A whim. Something you’re doing to get it out of your system before you return to where you belong.”

Oh God, she could as good as hear her father say the words. She lifted her head and forced herself to look Vincent in the eyes. “That’s his opinion, but I don’t agree. Did you come all the way from Toronto just to upset me?”

He reached for her hand, capturing her before she could safely pull out of reach. He nodded slowly. “You’re right. I started all wrong. Causing you distress wasn’t my intention. I’m interested in what you’re doing here. And I’ve missed you.”

Okay. That one was off in a new direction. “There’s nothing to miss, Vincent.”

“There should be.” He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand and hummed gently. “You’re so soft considering what you do for a living.”

“I’m not made of iron. I’m trained to deal with situations.” She tried to free her hand, and he let her go. Alisha took advantage of the opportunity and stepped away from the table under the guise of being hospitable. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Please. Just water.”

Vincent rose and paced her apartment while she ducked into her kitchen and found him an actual glass glass and ice cubes.

Because just water meant something far different to Vincent than when Devon said it, and she knew it.

She paused in the door of the kitchen area, resting her head on the door frame as she looked around for him. Vincent had vanished—she could only wish it had been out the main door to leave her in peace. She didn’t have much more to give today, not between the rescue and the shock and Devon and . . .

Alisha dragged in a deep breath and fought for control. Maybe she shouldn’t have chased Devon out so quickly, but old habits of keeping secrets were hard to break.

When Vincent didn’t reappear, Alisha stepped cautiously down the short hall, disturbed to discover him in her bedroom. “I have your water in the living room.”

He turned from the window and nodded, stepping past her without pausing, brushing close enough their bodies touched.

She stared at the street and dug deep for the strength to deal with this. Deal until he left, and she could finally collapse.

He smiled as she joined him, his long fingers lingering on the glass as he lowered it. His neatly trimmed nails made her remember more clearly Devon’s sturdy hands. The hands that had held her safely that morning, and so many times over the past years. While getting involved with Devon might have been crossed off her list for many good reasons in the past, she’d take him in a flash over Vincent, no matter how debonair and smooth the man appeared.

Devon loved the mountains. Loved excitement. He understood what made her blood thrill in a way Vincent never would.

She swayed on her feet as exhaustion rolled over her hard.

Vincent caught her around the waist. “You said you did a rescue this morning?”

Embarrassment rushed her as she stepped away, dragging her hands through her hair and fighting to stop from yawning. She wanted to present a strong, competent woman, not someone ready to fall over in a faint. “Got called out at five A.M., so I’m ready to crash.”

“Then I won’t keep you.” He picked up his suit jacket and slipped it on. “Get some rest, and I’ll take you to dinner later. We can get caught up then.”

Probably needed to bring up the deadline her father had set. Convince her it was time to come home and be a dutiful daughter. “I really don’t feel like going out tonight, Vincent.”

He smiled indulgently. “Of course. I’m staying at the Banff Springs Hotel. Room twelve fifty-three. If you change your mind, please call. Otherwise, we’ll make it tomorrow.”

Drat, a one-day delay only. “Are you in town for long?”

“As long as it takes.” He straightened his collar, checking his hair in the mirror by the front door.

She didn’t want to know what that meant. She really didn’t. Silence seemed the wisest thing as he strolled past her, again closer than he needed to be.

Vincent turned in the doorway. He stroked his fingers over her jaw, his gaze playing over her face. “You need sleep. You’ve got bags under your eyes.”

A snort of laughter escaped before she could stop it. Charming. “It’s been a long day.”

He leaned in, and she twisted to the side so his lips landed on her cheek instead of her mouth. Cool, not warm. Nothing flaring between them to make her want to have his attentions on her, no matter that she’d dreamed about him in the past.

The current reality had nothing that made her want to explore more.

He stepped down the stairs and she closed the door. Locked the knob and the deadbolt, and then chastised herself for being an idiot. She was the one who’d opened the door in the first place.

Twit.

Her limbs quivered as she attempted to keep vertical. Alisha barely made it down the hall to her room, using the walls to guide her. She pulled off her clothes and crawled under the covers, praying that the physical overload would overwhelm the mental stress and allow her a few hours of oblivion before she had to wake and deal with the crap that had landed on her plate.

It wasn’t the rush of water that filled her mind, though, or Vincent’s unreadable expression. Thankfully, and hauntingly, it was Devon she saw as she fell asleep. The concern and caring in his eyes, the protective embrace as he clutched her to the wall.

The world might be shaking around her, but she wasn’t completely alone. Even if Devon was pissed off, he had her back.

Teamwork. What they’d trained into their very hearts and souls, and as fingers of unconsciousness wrapped around her, it was Devon’s blue eyes she thought of.

Dropping off to sleep at four P.M. meant she was wide awake plenty early enough to have to decide. Did she follow Devon’s orders and show up at the swimming pool?

If she’d slept through she’d have felt no guilt in skipping out, but now it would be a deliberate choice, and Alisha couldn’t bring herself to do that. He’d given her a break the previous day—a huge, life-changing break. He deserved a little leeway.

Still, gathering her gear together had more of a funereal sensation than the usual buzz of anticipation that came before a workout. Normally a kind of dread and desire hung over her, knowing that once she got moving the endorphins would wash through and chase away some of her blues.

Devon hadn’t specifically said which pool to meet him at, so she took a chance and headed to the one at the Banff SAR school. The parking lot was fairly full, reminding her that a new class of students had recently entered their first semester of training. Sure enough, as she pushed through the glass doors into the moist air of the pool setting, the sounds of splashing, whistles, and loud shouts carried on the warm air.

Warmth—another reason the pool was so much better than open water.

Approaching the observation area took willpower. A mental bracing she’d begun as soon as she crawled out of bed. Bright overhead fluorescent lighting made the tiles underfoot shine brilliant blue and white, the morning sun only beginning to peek through the tall windows. The bleachers along the side of the pool were empty except for one broad-shouldered individual who kept his gaze fixed on the bodies splashing in the water.

Alisha walked slowly toward him, examining his face—the firm line of his jaw and his tousled blond hair. He probably hadn’t done more than drag a hand through it, and he still looked good enough for a photo op. The light scruff on his chin made her itch to rub herself against it—

And this had to stop. As lovely and distracting as it was, now even more than before she needed to keep Devon in the right place in her mind. That he was willing to help her was fabulous.

She wasn’t about to crawl into his bed, especially if Lana had recently been in it.

A shrill cry rang out and she turned in time to duck a splash of water flaring from the pool into the spectator area. The student who’d caused it resurfaced, his smile shining as he waved at them.

Alisha laughed, and lowered herself next to Devon. “Becki’s little brother, right?”

Devon nodded. “Colin seems to be having fun.”

“What are they up to?” Alisha glanced down the deck, checking for the instructor. The same man who’d put them through their paces years earlier still held sway over the water training.