Vivian Arend - High Risk

“Becki . . .” Marcus’s jaw was so firmly set she was afraid he’d hurt himself. Still, she didn’t waver.

And how he responded to her right now was going to set the direction for what happened next between them. Because while she might enjoy having him dominate her during sex, ordering her around in life decisions was the next wrong progression up from that macho you will move in with me bullshit he’d just tried to pull.

Maybe he knew that. His gaze stayed sharp, but he nodded briskly, glancing at his watch. “Sunset. I’m calling David. If you’re not at the highway by sunset he’ll come find you. You got numbers? Phone fully charged?”

Tripp leaned across him and tossed Becki a couple of granola bars. “Fully charged and all the numbers labeled. She’s a go. We’re ready to roll, boss.”

Marcus took a deep breath. “If you’re sure. Throwing up during a flight isn’t the worst thing ever, Becki.”

“Go. I’m a hundred percent to stay.”

He shook his head but moved, climbing in and getting into a seat. The chopper was already lifting into the air as Becki tucked and ran from the revolving props.

Watched it rise and leave her behind.

* * *

Marcus ran on autopilot. His team worked efficiently, completing the rescue without a hitch as they pulled victims from the crevasse. He’d made sure his focus stayed on directing as needed, observing the talented group as they worked together. He really did have the finest team around.

The entire time, though, there was a part of his brain wondering where Becki was and how she was doing. His focus stayed sharp enough, so it wasn’t a danger, but until his cell phone hummed and the text came through that she was home, something inside stayed tight with worry.

He’d fucked up big-time back during training.

Then again, so had she.

Having her twitch away from him had made him angrier than he expected. Although her explanation about being exhausted made sense—bad decisions were made while sleep deprived—he still wouldn’t allow her to brush them off like that.

Only she was right as well. Ordering her around wasn’t his brightest move ever. Her fire and determination were part of why he admired the hell out of her. Why would he want her to cave in?

Convince? Cajole? One of those would be far better, considering their personalities.

By the time they were headed home, he had his plan of attack figured out. Debrief first—a formality since the team had worked like a well-oiled cog this time. Next up would be a non-emotional call to Becki offering his company.

A strong drink if she turned him down. Maybe two.

Erin landed them back at the pad, the clock ticking over to nearly ten P.M. David stepped from the hangar doors to greet them, a group of four local students rushing forward to take gear from his weary team.

David slapped him on the shoulder. “Thought you’d like a little help unloading.”

“Thank you.” Marcus pointed at the showers. “Lifeline, you’ve got a fifteen-minute reprieve. Soak your brains, then regroup. David’s students are cleaning up your mess.”

“Yeah, David.” Tripp high-fived him as he passed by.

Alisha stopped and gave David a kiss on the cheek. “You have a heart of gold.”

“Don’t expect this all the time,” he warned. “I felt sorry for you doing both training and pulling bodies.” David glanced at Marcus as activity wove around them. “You okay?”

Marcus nodded. “You heard from Becki?”

“She’s fine. Hiked out with the group of tourists who had been watching your team train and got a ride with them. She called me, and she said she’d contact you as well.”

“Texted. Is she okay, though?”

David held out his phone. “Call her if you’re so worried.”

Marcus shook his head. He wasn’t going to make his call in public. “I should give her a little room.”

“Uh-oh.” His brother leaned in closer. “What did you do now?”

Fuckhead. Marcus ignored him and sat on the couch to wait for the crew to return. “Remind me why I like her?”

David laughed and slapped him on the shoulder before heading over to guide the volunteers through their tasks.

By the time all the team had gathered and they’d completed analyzing the rescue, Marcus’s shoulders were aching with tension. It seemed to take forever until the staff room was finally empty, the last of the squad headed yawning for the door.

He hit autodial before he could think it through.

She picked up on the second ring. “Rescue went well?”

“All safe, team intact.” All the things he knew she’d want to know. “Alisha did this three-point twirl that was sheer poetry. Fastened rescue lines and clamped belayers into position all with blood rushing to her brain. How the hell that girl can keep oriented is damn freaky.”

Becki laughed. “When you like climbing, it’s not that difficult to know right side up even when you’re upside down.”

Marcus was silent for a minute. “Sorry for abandoning you. I . . .” No. Telling her she should have come with them, at least to the highway, was out of line. She’d been safe; she’d made her own decision. It wasn’t what he wanted, but he’d have to suck it up. “How are you?”

“Good.”

She wasn’t going to make this easy. “Do you want some company?”

Becki sighed, the telltale sounds of the creaky student bed complaining in the background as she wiggled. “Marcus, I need to think. And the walk out wasn’t long enough. So, thank you for offering, but not tonight.”

Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose and held on to the words that wanted to burst out. Instead, he spoke slowly and tried for reasonable instead of asshole. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

“Sure.” Noncommittal. The word clipped and tight.

Screw that. Holding on to reasonable got a whole lot harder. “Becki, I mean it. I’ll back off now because you’ve asked me to. But you call me even in the middle of the goddamn night if you need something. Got it?”

“No problem.” Becki couldn’t seem to get out of the conversation fast enough. “I’d better let you go. I’ll see you at training tomorrow.”

He stared at the phone and wondered how bad he had it that his first reaction to that crap was to head over to the dorms and use a little rope on her until she came to her senses.

Anger rushed through him, blazing out of nowhere. Having to leave her behind had nearly ripped him in two. The nausea and fear that had earlier numbed him flipped into fury and he roared, the sound echoing in the empty staff room.

A sharp pulse of pain struck, and he cursed as the demons in his memory swooped in. It was as if they knew he was susceptible—the sight of her wide eyes and her fear bringing in a flood of guilt and regrets.

You can’t help her. You can’t save yourself . . . you can’t save anyone.

He fought the rising violence. Fought the urge to tear apart the room in his frustration. Ignored the aching call that followed that demanded he lie down and disappear into the mindless state that an episode would reduce him to.

Instead, he focused on Becki and clung to the hope she’d brought him. He pictured her green eyes, not fear-filled, but full of passion and life. The memory anchored him, and he caught hold as if she’d personally extended a safety line. Remembering her vivid expressions soothed his raw nerves—all of her moods, whether passion, stubbornness, or righteous anger.

Imagining the caress of her hand on his skin held him back from the precipice.

He forced himself to head home, determined to keep from falling into the darkness again. For Becki’s sake.

The night was cold and shadow-filled, and he wondered if part of the reason he’d wanted so badly for her to accept his offer was for his own sake.

* * *

All the rest of the week she kept that barrier between them. He avoided being around while she worked Lifeline, only showing up for their agreed-upon personal training times. Becki hit the wall and fought it as if she were grappling with her own demons instead of handholds. She didn’t argue with him but didn’t have any kind of breakthrough in terms of going vertical.

When it was her turn to take the lead, she was demon-possessed there as well, putting him through workouts that left him drenched in sweat and almost too tired to be annoyed that things were moving in the wrong direction.

Restraining his temper and holding his tongue without insisting that she listen to him and let them get back to where they had been headed was damn hard. It seemed it was going to take something big to get her to listen, and the only big thing that came to mind made him nauseated. Being patient was no longer working—that was clear from the dark circles under both their eyes. It was time he stopped letting her call the shots.

If he had to dress in a tux and face a formal event to make nice, he’d grit his teeth and do it.

“I could get used to this far too easily.” Becki ran a hand over the leather seat between her and Alisha. There were water bottles in the drink tray, and soft music played over the limousine’s speakers.

Alisha lifted a brow. “It’s just a car. With champagne and a driver.”

They grinned at each other.

Becki leaned back in the seat. “David set this up? I mean, it’s nice and all, but I didn’t need to be impressed by being brought to the event in a stretch limo.”

“Last year we had the same thing. I think it’s part of the package deal they get from the Banff Springs when they book the room. Just enjoy.” Alisha cracked open one of the bottles and took a long drink before leaning forward and peering out the window. “It’s too short a drive. We should have asked him to loop through town a few times.”

“Long enough to enjoy.” Becki relaxed as the vehicle turned down a residential street and pulled to a stop outside a tidy house. Erin stepped out and made her way to meet them, her silver skirt flashing against her dark skin as she moved. Becki shifted her legs out of the way as the third woman settled into the open space.

“Ahh, a night of total luxury and pampering. How will we ever put up with it?” Erin lifted her water in the air. “To the Banff SAR School. May there be plenty of wide-open pockets tonight.”

They clicked plastic together.

Becki turned to Alisha. “David mentioned you’re speaking tonight?”

“For a few minutes. Alumni in the area means the sponsors are always keen. David and Marcus have done so much for me over the years, I figure it’s only fair that I do a little to help support them.” Alisha’s eyes widened. “Not that you aren’t supporting them. I mean, I understand completely why you don’t want to talk. I mean . . .”

“Stop while you have only one foot in your mouth,” Erin suggested dryly.

“Oh drat, I’m so embarrassed.” Alisha pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Sorry, Becki, I didn’t mean to be stupid.”

“It’s okay,” Becki reassured her. “It’s not the same thing, either. Yes, I went to the school, but I’m barely back. I think it’s far more important that you tell them about what you’re doing. I’m not actively in SAR anymore.”

“Not right now, but you’ll get there,” Erin pointed out.

Becki ignored the blushing Alisha and concentrated on how wonderful the thought of getting back into working full time made her feel. “I’d like to think so, but teaching isn’t going to be a hardship. Working with Lifeline over the past couple weeks has been good for me.”

“You’ve been good for us, as well,” Alisha insisted. “My foot-in-mouth disease aside. And good for our boss—if you don’t mind me mentioning that.”

Becki glanced at the young woman. “Because me testing his blood pressure on a regular basis is just what he needed?”

Alisha smiled. “Whatever. All I know is that Marcus is planning on coming tonight, and he never comes to these events. The only reason he’s doing it is for you.”

“Where do you hear these things?” Erin demanded.

An innocent shrug lifted Alisha’s shoulders. “If you sit quietly and pretend you’re a mouse, all sorts of interesting information falls into your lap.

The limo crossed the bridge, closing in on the hotel, and Erin frowned. “I thought we were picking up Devon?”

Alisha shook her head. “He’ll meet us there.”

Only she grew redder in the face than before, and Becki wondered what was going on. Especially when Alisha suddenly took a great interest in her nails.