High Passion Page 5

  The hurt and betrayal in her eyes at his final words nearly killed him, slicing to the core, but she nodded her understanding.

  Needed distraction came from the thump of the rope end landing beside them. Devon watched her tie up, stepping in to examine her knots.

  “Stop fussing, Devon,” she snapped. “I can climb. I’m fine.”

  “Arguing with me right now is not an option,” he retorted. “Deal with it.”

  Alisha snapped her mouth shut, hanging on to the rope and glaring as he double-checked her harness bindings. Soaking wet. Freezing cold. Pissed off as all get-out, and worried like crazy, he shouldn’t have been so damn aware of her curves as he tried not to touch anything other than her ropes and harnesses.

  When he stepped back, she jerked her chin up. “Happy?”

  “Not remotely.”

  She hit his microphone button. “Anders, on belay.”

  “Hey, girl. Belay on. Got your high-speed elevator ride all ready for you.”

  She twisted away, but not before Devon saw the moisture in her eyes. She rose rapidly, walking her way up the wall as the team lifted her from the depths.

  Devon waited for the rope to make its return descent. Plenty of time for guilt to pour in as hard as the water had earlier. Alisha’s behavior wasn’t something he should have ignored or brushed off. She’d reacted in an unexpected manner. What if it happened again, at an even more risky moment? She’d be a danger to both herself and the team, not to mention the people they might be rescuing.

  By keeping her secret, he’d put himself into a compromising position. He could only hope her reasons were something he could live with down the road.

  * * *

  Only feet from the top of the crevasse Anders extended a hand, and she grasped it eagerly. The warmth of his fingers was as welcome as the smile on his face.

  “Good grief, what were you two doing down there? Mud wrestling?” Xavier stepped up, dropping a blanket over her shoulders. “Let me untie you.”

  “Devon?” Alisha twisted toward the cliff lip, but Xavier held her in place.

  “Anders will get him. The other SAR team is dealing with the injured, and Paul checked out fine. You’re soaked, though, so we need to help you before you have a reaction.” Xavier loosened the rope at her waist as the chill in her bones shook her. “Yeah, like that.”

  “I’m cold.” Admitting that was as far as she wanted to go right now.

  “Come on, lean on me and I’ll get you to your spare gear.” Xavier looped an arm around her and guided her toward the chopper.

  She hovered between reality and a dream. Fear threatened to overwhelm her as she remembered the water surrounding her and Devon. Then the ensuing adrenaline rush stopped her from going catatonic again.

  She didn’t want her breakdown to be revealed, and only the terror of being discovered would give her enough strength to get through the next hours without giving herself away.

  “You need me to give you something?” Xavier asked.

  The man with the chemicals. God, asking for a sedative was out of the question, but could she ever use one right now. That, or a shot of whiskey straight up.

  Hmmm. “You got your flask?”

  “Shhh.” Xavier glanced around sheepishly. “That’s strictly for medicinal purposes.”

  Her teeth chattered. “I think this counts.”

  Erin wasn’t at the chopper, so Xavier helped her into the transport area, standing her directly under the heater, which he cranked to high. “Strip, and I’ll get your gear bag from the back.”

  She fumbled with the straps on her harness, fighting to unthread the thick webbing from the metal hoops. Either the fabric had swollen with the river water or she’d lost more dexterity than she’d thought, because nothing seemed to be cooperating.

  Familiar hands pushed her fingers away, tugging the harness free far too easily and mocking her. She shivered in place and refused to look up. She didn’t want to see the accusation in Devon’s eyes.

  “You need to get changed, too. I can take care of myself,” Alisha insisted.

  “Hush.” Devon stripped away the final buckle holding her harness in place. “We’re a team. We help each other as needed.”

  God, she was so going to lose it if he kept up being all supportive and understanding. It was easier when he’d flashed his disapproval. His anger. Those emotions she could deal with far better than his disappointment.

  She peeked up to make sure they were alone. “I’m sorry.”

  Devon pulled his sweater over his head and tossed it aside. “Save it for later.”

  “Just—”

  “Later, Alisha, unless you want everyone to know.”

  Damn, she was out of control. He was right. She pulled off her outer layers, adding them to the pile at their feet. Heat poured from above, but it was another sort of heat that filled her now. No challenge against the cold in her extremities, but washing her face with heat and starting a pulse deep inside.

  He was down to bare skin from the waist up, goose bumps on his chest as he rubbed a towel briskly over his torso and head. Alisha couldn’t stop staring, fascinated as he left the towel draped over his shoulders and reached for the button at his waist.

  Something had to have warned him because he stopped, button open, zipper halfway down. He glanced up and their gazes connected.

  Devon swore, then closed the gap between them. She didn’t think he was going to do what she wanted, which was press her to the wall and kiss her senseless. Kiss her until all the fear was so far gone that she’d never have to face it again.

  No, she didn’t think he’d do that, but she’d certainly never imagined he’d grab her shirt and strip it off her.

  Alisha crossed her arms over her chest instinctively.

  Devon laughed. “No modesty around here. Get out of the rest of your wet things. Xavier will be back in a second with our dry clothes.”

  “Xavier is back, dry clothes in hand. You two need help?”

  “Alisha does,” Devon responded before she could issue a denial.

  Xavier was by her side in a flash, her spare clothing bag set on the bench. He knelt at her feet, untying laces and pulling her boots and socks from her one foot at a time. “I’m a professional. You can consider me like a doctor. You don’t have to be shy.”

  “You pervert. You just want to see m-m-me naked,” Alisha stuttered through chattering teeth.

  He lifted his head and waggled his brows.

  Good grief. “If I weren’t so damn cold I’d d-do a striptease f-for you.”

  “Now that I want to see.” Xavier turned her to face the back of the chopper, unhooking her bra and stripping off her pants with barely any effort. He had the blanket around her shoulders without making it apparent he’d seen her naked at all. “But since I’m a gentleman and all, I suggest the next time you want to go swimming you do it in the pool, or wear a wetsuit.”

  With the cold, soaking clothes removed and the furnace blasting overhead, Alisha at least wasn’t getting any colder. “Thanks, Xav.”

  “No problem.”

  More voices joined in—Erin at the chopper door, Anders returning to the transport area and tossing up gear bags. He glanced around. “You guys stay here. I can grab the rest of the shit in a couple trips, and we can be headed home.”

  “I’ll join you,” Xavier offered. “Well done, everyone. Erin, let Tripp know we can leave within the next thirty.”

  “Got it.”

  Through it all Alisha worked slowly. Precisely. Pulling on dry clothing one article at a time. With a towel wrapped around her head she sat in her flight chair and dealt with socks and shoes. Beside her Devon had done the same. Flashes of firm muscles covered without false modesty, but no lingering over more sexual possibilities. The two of them had basically been side by side and naked, but this time he stayed silent, none of the usual teasing that would have accompanied such an event in the past.

  Even the heater blasting overhead couldn’t
stop the shiver that took her.

  Devon knelt in front of her. He caught her chin in his firm grasp. He refused to let her look away as he examined her. He checked her eyes, brushed a hand over her forehead. Alisha met his gaze steadily, the terror that had grasped her gone.

  He darted a glance away, but there was no one near to hear.

  “Tell me you’re okay,” he said. “Promise me I don’t need to worry about you going into shock on the ride home.”

  Could she guarantee that? Alisha dug deep and assessed herself as best she could. Fear wouldn’t stupefy her anymore, not unless Erin flew them into a lake or something insane. Fear of her team finding out she’d panicked—that would keep her from saying anything reckless.

  “I’m really cold right now. That’s all.”

  “Me, too. We should probably share body heat. That would be the most effective cure, you know.”

  Her tongue wasn’t working—whether he’d intended it or not, his words were an effective distraction. The wink he gave her a second before rising to grab blankets from the storage cupboard made her heart skip.

  That was when she spotted Anders in the doorway, him and Xavier back with the rest of the gear.

  So that was how they were going to play it. “Yeah, right. You’re as cold as I am. No way am I cuddling with you. Xavier now, I bet he knows how to warm a girl.”

  Anders tossed bags into position and hooked up webbing to hold them in place during the flight. Up front Erin had the blades turning, preparations begun for taking them skyward. “You two never stop bickering. Think the noise alone would be enough to warm you.”

  “Hey, I have no objections to offering my body. Willing sacrifice and all.” Xavier grinned at her.

  “Oh, good,” Devon cut in, patting his lap. “I’m cold, too, Xav. Come cuddle me.”

  Xavier blew a raspberry, and suddenly the team made it all very normal and ordinary. Xavier helped her strap in, rubbing her fingers momentarily in his palms before piling blankets on both her and Devon. For the entire journey home they were teased about going for a swim. Chatting about the rescue—typical return stuff that distracted her.

  Except that every time she met Devon’s gaze there was a question there she knew she’d have to answer.

  And how to answer? The trip home wasn’t long enough to figure out a solution.

  CHAPTER 5

  Marcus was waiting at headquarters to debrief them. Usually this part of the process excited Devon—a way to celebrate their victories and learn for the future.

  Today he’d had enough. He was cold to the bone, even after a shower at HQ, but worse was the guilt at keeping silent regarding Alisha’s strange behavior. Keeping up the façade of lighthearted bantering they were known for, and accepting taunts in return, was pushing him to his limit.

  He wanted answers, dammit, and now.

  It seemed like hours later they were finally headed out of the building, with orders shouted after them to get a load of calories and a good sleep.

  “Next time I’ll pack flippers for you,” Xavier teased, the door closing on his words.

  Yeah, yeah. Devon caught Alisha by the elbow as she attempted to sprint away.

  “My place or yours?” God, he’d wanted to ask her that before, for far better reasons than the current ones. What a fucked-up situation.

  She paused. “Now?”

  “Now.”

  Alisha nodded slowly. “I have a lasagna in the freezer. We can eat. Follow the boss’s orders regarding carb loading.”

  He wanted to say he wasn’t interested in food, but his stomach gave up that lie too easily. “I can’t beat that.”

  She snorted, and he had to join in, their history of never-ending contests raising its head again.

  Within minutes they were at her place and up the stairs. She cleared her throat, flushing a little. “Lasagna is in the freezer, if you want to get it in the microwave. I’ll deal with my wet stuff.”

  Retreat, obviously, but Devon let her go, struggling not to stare at her ass as she walked away. He’d done it so often over the years it was now instinctual. The time apart wasn’t a bad thing—it gave him a few minutes to cool off further before he gave in and simply shouted at her, which would get them absolutely nowhere fast.

  He got the food heating and dug into her fridge for something green to accompany it. Normal, everyday things, made all the weirder by the fact it was her apartment and they were about to have some kind of come to Jesus discussion.

  All of it was so fucked up, he didn’t even know where to start.

  She was back before he’d managed to calm himself, but also before he’d worked himself into more of a frenzy. The normally confident woman he’d worked with for many years stood in the doorway of the tiny kitchen, twisting her fingers together.

  “You want to talk?”

  He followed her into the living room and took the easy chair. Not looming over her was the only concession he could make, his annoyance wanting to push her hard.

  Alisha continued to pace. “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “We’re way past sorry. I’ve now compromised my job by not telling the team that you freaked. What the hell happened back there?”

  Her fingers had gone white-knuckled, she was squeezing them so tight. “I don’t know. I’ve never . . .”

  Devon bit back the urge to growl. “Dammit, Alisha, we’ve known each other for four years, and I’ve never seen you cringe away from anything. You were scared fucking shitless, weren’t you?”

  A crease formed between her brows. “Stop swearing at me. This isn’t easy to figure out.”

  Oh hell, no. “It’s not going to be easy to tell Marcus I fucked up and didn’t report you, but if I have to, I bloody well will—”

  “Yes, I was afraid,” she shouted, cutting him off. She wrapped her arms around her torso as if putting up a barrier between them. Blocking herself off. “When the water hit, it was as if I weren’t there anymore. I panicked, but it was only for a moment. I got over it, Devon. You can’t tell me being plunged into a subterranean river is a normal, everyday experience. Not even for us with our record of twisted rescues.”

  A shiver rolled over her hard enough that he saw it. He was on his feet in a flash, stepping in closer. She lifted her gaze to his, sheer misery in the depths.

  He didn’t know if he should hug her or shake some sense into her. “You panicked. While you did snap out of it, we work in search and rescue. Don’t you think this might be a bit of a problem?”

  Her pause answered that, a second before she straightened and pulled on bluster like a coat of armour. “We work in the high Rockies. We climb and hike, and in the winter we ski. I’ve never had a lick of trouble in those settings. So, no, I don’t think it will be a problem again.”

  “You don’t think—Goddammit, Alisha. That about sums it up. You’re not thinking. At any time we could be called to do a water rescue. What will you do then? Put up your hand and ask to be excused? When people’s lives are on the line? Hell, when your teammates’ lives could be on the line?”

  “I can get through it,” she insisted. “I just . . . today was all kinds of wrong. That wasn’t a normal situation, Devon, and don’t tell me it was. We’ve done water rescues before, like that rescue at the falls last year—I didn’t freak out then, did I?”

  Frustration and fury mixed like a horrid poison in his veins. The fact that she had managed the rescue she’d mentioned calmed him slightly. “Fine, so you’re not going to kill us all the first chance you get. You’re still a walking time bomb.”

  She reached for him, laying a hand on his arm where he’d crossed them over his chest. “Then give me time to prove I can deal with this. You can’t tell anyone on the team.”

  Devon tore himself from her, dragging a hand through his hair. “You don’t ask for much, do you?”

  “Please, Devon.”

  Shit. He confronted her again. “We’re taking over coastal rescues. How the hell will you cope w
ith that?”

  Her hands balled into fists. “What part of Let me prove myself do you not understand? You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

  He laughed. “Right. Bullshit on that.” Spots of colour returned to her cheeks. It didn’t make her look happier, though, not with that death glare she directed his way. “Look. Your problem is now my problem. When I skipped out on telling the team how you went unresponsive in the cavern, I made myself have to worry. Which means either I go tell Marcus what happened and hope he doesn’t fire us like he should, or I keep worrying alongside you.”

  “Telling Marcus doesn’t do either of us any good at this point.” She spoke softly this time, body still rigid but the fight fading from her eyes. “I don’t want to give up my position with Lifeline, but I’m not stupid, Devon. If it turns out I’ve got a major problem I will be the first to admit it.”

  They stared at each other for a moment, Devon mentally sifting through all sorts of catastrophes that could come crashing down on them at any time. Tension was more than a wall between them; it was a living thing. Swirling like a wind in the room, chasing away the physical attraction he’d been fighting until all that remained was them. Two people, one huge disaster to deal with.

  The beeper on the microwave went off, and they both jerked in surprise. Devon laughed in spite of the tension. “Ten more minutes.”

  She nodded, collapsing onto the couch and burrowing her head in her hands. When she spoke it was toward the floor. “I mucked up hugely.”

  “Hey, I’m not even going to argue with you on that one.”

  She snorted. “Great. We’re finally in agreement about something. I’m an idiot.”

  Devon paced over, looking down as she leaned on the sofa. He took in the utter misery in her expression, the defeat in her body language. This wasn’t the overconfident cocky woman who’d been driving him crazy for years. This was someone on the edge of breaking.

  “Dammit, Alisha. I want to stay pissed off, but I can’t.” He joined her on the couch, figuring that looming over her wasn’t helping matters. She had screwed up, but if they were going by protocol, so had he. “We’re now officially in this together.”