Game of Love (16 page)

“These things? Nah. They’re my beauty marks.” He eyed Gemma.

Andre and Chris were adjusting their gear when Linda tugged on Andre’s elbow.

“Should you be doing this?” she asked, concern etched on her face. “Why don’t you climb the other side instead?”

He frowned. “What’s on your mind?”

“Your contract. What if you get hurt? You know you have a no extreme sport clause. Should you be doing anything to jeopardize the contract? After all this time, is this worth it?”

“Don’t worry. This is a simple climb. I’m not free-climbing it. I’ll be strapped in.”

A beat. “Please be careful,” she said, then stepped away. Andre considered Linda’s advice as Chris cross-checked Andre’s gear. She was right, of course. Even if only an infinitesimal chance of injury existed, climbing was not smart. What if someone from the office saw him?

“You’re good to go,” Chris said.

Andre placed his hands on the cliff’s face, feeling the cool surface. A damp rock was riskier. He’d need to use more chalk. He was being bull-headed about this. He didn’t need to climb.

“You okay, bro?” Chris asked.

Why did he have to second-guess every aspect of his life? M&T controlled everything–even his latest vacation was on the verge of being cancelled. It was time to live the life he wanted. He’d climb if he wanted to climb.

“Yeah, I’m great,” Andre said.

But a knot at the base of his neck tightened. The morning headache was back.

The waves crashed against the jagged rocks. The electrifying dissonant sounds of the waves and the howling wind replaced all others. Gemma sat on a boulder and watched Andre.

“He’ll be fine,” Dan said. “He’s harnessed in. If he loses a hold, the worst will be a five-foot slip. He may get bruised, but not much more. The difficult part is that point up there.” He waved his hand toward a protrusion of rock near the top. “When he gets underneath that lip, he’ll have to leap to catch it before he can summit.”

“That does not sound safe,” she said.

“That part can get a bit ugly. If he doesn’t catch the lip, he’ll swing in an arc and hit the rock face. I’m sure he’ll protect his vitals.”

“Dear Lord, I’m going to vomit.”

“Nah, he’ll be fine,” Dan said as he took a hesitant step away, but stopped. “By the way, I hope you don’t mind me saying, but your match against Sonia was some of the best tennis I’ve seen in years. I’m looking forward to Wimbledon.”

“Thanks… I appreciate that. But who were you cheering for?”

He smiled. “I’ve always been partial to southpaws.”

They do know me
. Yet, they were comfortable with it, not star-struck at all. She was not used to this, but she could get used to it very quickly.

Her mobile rang. It was Tish. What now? She considered answering it, then pressed
Ignore
.

She trained her attention on Andre as he carefully placed his hands on the flat wall. Like a human spider, he grabbed the face of the rock and without hesitation, climbed. Fast. He practically leaped from one hold to the other. She’d seen rock climbers on TV, but what he was doing was different, as if on fast-forward.

“He’s a natural speed climber,” Linda said.

“Speed climber?”

“When these guys climb, their goal is speed. Beyond physical strength, he’s like a chess player planning multiple moves ahead. As Andre climbs, he’s planning the path that’ll lead him to summit with the least effort.”

“Is this related to his gift? The fact that he sees patterns?” Gemma asked.

Gemma noted a hint of surprise in Linda’s eyes, but then a smile emerged. “Yes, exactly. Pattern recognition. He sees all the possible patterns, then eliminates options. You should try a parallel climb with him on the north face. You will not regret it.”

“I have this little issue with heights,” Gemma said then bit her lip. She didn’t want this information to end up on a newsreel.

“I understand, but maybe heights don’t have an issue with you.”

Gemma grinned, then turned back to Andre. Right there at the beach, with the smell of the ocean, the scent of suntan lotion, and the sounds of the waves, seagulls, and wind, she was mesmerized by Andre, unwilling to take her eyes off him. He was amazing. She studied how his arms stretched, the way his legs spread from one foothold to another. He was magical.

Just then, he stopped climbing.

Linda straightened.

“What’s wrong?” Gemma asked.

“I don’t know.”

She watched him twirl his head, as if relaxing his neck muscles. Then with the free hand, he squeezed his neck.

“Oh, God,” Linda said. “I hope it’s not another one of his headaches.”

Headaches?
Gemma took a few steps toward Andre.

“Are you okay?” Chris yelled up. Gemma stood next to Chris, watching intently.

Andre turned to respond, but at that instant she locked eyes with him. He was a good thirty feet up, but she was certain he was locked on her. She wanted to help, she just didn’t know how. So she smiled up at him.

Two, maybe three moments later, he shoved his free hand in the chalk bag, switched grips, chalked his other hand, and then yelled, “Climbing!” as he leapt to the next hold.

He continued up as if nothing had happened.

Gemma took a few steps back, next to Linda. “Bloody hell. What was that?”

“Not sure.”

Gemma held her breath when he reached the complex point Dan had identified, but Andre didn’t miss a beat. Another leap. With both hands he managed a wide grip on the lip, then pulled up. His muscular shoulders and back gave him the appearance of a bird spreading his wings. The rest was child’s play. He summited gracefully, then waved down at them.

He rappelled in a few successive hops. Once down, he unhooked before jogging up to Gemma. His body shone like mist on a bronze statue. “Well? What’d you think?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

She wanted to grab him, touch his body. Instead, she said, “Intoxicating. Simply intoxicating.”

“It’s your turn.”

“Are you mad?”

“No, I’m quite happy.”

“Bloody Yank. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, but I love it when you get irritated. Reminds me of the first time I met you. When was that? Six days ago?”

“A lifetime,” she mused. “What happened to you up there?”

He hesitated. “I thought I couldn’t go on.”

“Yet you did. What changed?”

“You. I saw your eyes. You’re like a shot of adrenaline.”

She beamed.

“Love all, but trust a few.”
~William Shakespeare

hrough the early morning, the others climbed the north face. Each tried to convince Gemma to give it a try, explaining it was a simple climb, unlike the other one, but she wouldn’t bite. It was silly to even consider. She was a professional athlete. A cut on her hand could devastate her performance, much less something more significant, like a head injury.

They were seated on towels under the canopy when Andre shuffled over to Gemma.

“Gemma,” Andre said, his hair a bit messy. “Climb. I’ll climb next to you. Move for move, I’ll be there with you. Trust me.”

She stroked his hair, her eyes trained on his. “I don’t trust anyone,” she said, then rose. “But I’ll trust you.”

“Yes!” From his seated position he catapulted to his feet. “Chris, Linda, you’re on belay.”

Those were not the words she meant to speak, but she couldn’t deny him, particularly when she was drowning in his warm, glistening eyes.

Andre walked Gemma to the rock face. “The person at the base is your belayer. You and Chris are connected by the rope harnessed to you. It’s like an umbilical cord. The belayer is your anchor and watches you move-for-move to ensure you have enough rope and support. Most important, if you slip, he holds the rope tight, not allowing you to drop.”

“Right. Good thinking. Dropping is not good.”

“Let’s harness you in,” he said. He knelt on the sand and held out the harness. “Step into it.”

She placed a hand on his head for balance and considered grabbing a handful of his black mane. As she stepped through each loop, his fingers dragged across her legs. Goose bumps ran up her back. He lifted the harness to her waist then circled behind her. Gemma’s will weakened. He put his hands around her waist, tightening the harness and looping the rope through. The contrast of fear and Andre’s hands on her body wreaked havoc.

“You’re good to go,” he said as he tightened her helmet. “Let me grab my gear and we’re ready to climb.”

“Are you ready?” Chris asked Gemma.

“No. But to hell with it. Let’s climb this bastard.”

“That’s the attitude.” Chris fist-pumped.

With that, they started to climb.

Andre remained close on her left, carefully explaining where to place her hands and feet. He leaned in when he needed to point to good holds–meatballs, as he called them.

She was an athlete. She knew how to use her body and execute on any challenge, but the truth was she wanted him close. As close as possible, so she could breathe his scent, feel his gaze, and touch the veins that swelled with his muscles.

Things were progressing well until her foot slipped. Both hands maintained a solid grip with one foot still planted, but none of that mattered. She broke into full-body perspiration and did the worst thing possible. She peered down. They were over twenty feet up. One knee shook uncontrollably.