High Risk (12 page)

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Authors: Vivian Arend

BOOK: High Risk
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CHAPTER
12

She’d been cold to start, and now that the wind picked up, the moisture in the air
soaked her completely. The least pleasurable part of climbing was made all the worse
by the fact that
he
was being an idiot. Just as he’d been for over a month.

“You ready? Sometime today . . . would be great.”

His hesitancy was clear. Probably figured she was going to freak out and give him
hell again. “Bastard.”

He sighed heavily. “I heard that.”

“Bastard with Superman hearing. Good for you.” She didn’t care how rude she was being.
Maybe if he heard it a few more times he’d stop being one. “Dane, I can’t see a bloody
thing. I could be exactly on route, or hanging over a thousand-foot free fall for
all I know.”

“You want me to go first?” His instant response was so puppy-dog eager she felt a
second’s twinge for being snarky.

Only a second, though. She snapped out, “You couldn’t have said something fifteen
minutes ago? Jerk.”

“Yeah, but I’m
your
jerk, right?” Begging for approval. Stroking her like he longed to have her forgive
him and move on. After the weekend they’d spent together she’d had enough. It only
highlighted the way he’d been acting over the past weeks.

Something had changed, and she hated what had become of their relationship. And once
they got off the bloody mountain, there was no way this was going to continue. Still,
humouring him for the moment was the only logical decision. “Yes, Dane, you’re my
jerk.”

Because taunting the person holding your safety line? Monumentally stupid.

“Bec? Love you.”

She leaned back, staring up the hillside. What the hell was the matter with him? “Dane?”

All hell broke loose. . . .

* * *

She curled into a ball as she waited for her heart to stop pounding. Sweat covered
her skin, and her scream of terror echoed in her ears. It was a good thing the dorms
were still empty, or she would have had people pounding at her door to see who’d been
murdered.

Her brilliant idea of a nap had backfired.

By the time she’d managed to unroll herself, Becki was more pissed off than frightened.
The nightmares were becoming worse—having mentioned it to Marcus hadn’t helped at
all. If anything, it was more terrifying now than it had been the night before.

If only they didn’t keep changing. Maybe a recurring nightmare she could take, but
one that every time made her think something was about to happen, and then it didn’t . . . ?

She’d been able to redirect her dreams before, but these were going to drive her mad.

It took a second shower to clean the stench of the nightmare from her body. She rubbed
cream all over herself, got dressed.

Realizing that she now wore her prettiest bra and undies was another kick in the gut.
She wasn’t intending to let anyone see her in them. There was no reason to take extra
care with her makeup and hair.

No reason other than the fact that concentrating on Marcus and sex was far preferable
to panicking about what mysteries remained hidden in her brain.

When he picked her up, she was more tongue-tied than ever. His black jeans and grey
sweater made his eyes look darker, the stubble on his chin emphasizing his strong
jaw. He stood beside the door and helped her in, his fingers warm against her cold
ones.

“You keeping the beard?” she teased.

“Shaver wasn’t charged, and I slept too late to mess with a razor one-handed.” He
glanced over her, approval on his face. “You look great.”

She’d never been a blusher. Not even when she was young, but right then and there,
blood rushed to her cheeks. “Thanks.”

He found them a parking spot, escorted her to the door. Together they moved through
the line of people exchanging ticket stubs for tiny portions of different local menu
samples. Buffalo steak. West Coast wild salmon. Marcus balanced his plate on his left
elbow, using his right hand to point out items for her to try. He’d given her control
of the coupons, and in the end he carried both their full plates to the table while
she passed over the correct stubs to the woman at the end of the lineup.

Becki eased into the chair opposite him, suddenly glad she’d accepted the invitation
to Banff. No matter how far she had to go, being there was right.

Small talk and comparisons of the various foods followed. Becki lifted a forkful of
her venison for Marcus to try, and he licked the utensil clean, his gaze riveted on
her. The meal was comfortable, and yet not.

Anticipation hovered between them.

Unanswered questions.

Their after-dinner coffees had already been poured before she decided to stop being
a wuss and talk to him about something more important than climbing shoes or gasket
selections.

“I had another dream this afternoon.” She sipped her drink, watching him over the
brim.

His shoulders tightened, focus narrowing. “You okay? Why didn’t you mention—”

“—it earlier?” Becki cut in. “Because I’m tired. And being tired is getting old. I
can’t let this get the better of me.”

“Not sleeping makes it worse.”

He had that right. “I keep thinking I’m about to find out the next thing that happens.
But then the dream folds over and repeats. Like some twisted
Groundhog Day
movie in my brain. I see the same scene over and over again.”

“The accident?” he asked. She nodded. “Frustrating. It would be better if it moved
forward.”

She snorted. “Part of me thinks it would be better if the dreams went away altogether,
but you’re right. Maybe then I could actually know what happened. But even the stupid
loop is mucked up.”

Marcus rested his elbows on the table and leaned in closer. “Mucked up how?”

“It changes. It’s still the same scene, it’s always me and Dane, but we’re different.
We act differently, show different emotions. One time he was such an ass to me, I
woke up wanting to punch him. Well, after I got back to breathing normally. And the
next time, oh my God, I could have thrown myself off the cliff. I was such a bitch.
Completely out of control and irresponsible.”

She took a deep breath, shook her head in frustration. “I don’t know which of these
is the truth. Maybe I did cause the accident. Maybe I was out of line and did something
horrible that ended up getting him killed.”

He grabbed her hand. “Trust me. The scenario where you were a bitch? That’s not the
one that’s true.”

Yeah, right. “After I ragged on you for no reason this afternoon? I don’t think you’re
considering all your facts.”

“Actually, our little debate today is exactly why I don’t think you did anything belligerent
when you were out there.” He released her fingers. “Even when you were rightly furious
with me you still behaved in a professional manner—well, except for the climbing-out-the-window
part, but that’s in character as well.”

Her cheeks twitched with the urge to smile. “I swear I haven’t done anything like
that for years. You bring out the devil in me.”

His eyes flashed. Something dark and lust-filled stared back at her. She felt her
body heating up. Responding to him as always.

“Talk about bringing out the devil in a person.” Marcus spoke softly. “You had all
your medical work done up for the school?”

“Of course. You think there’s something in there that would explain why I can’t remember
details?”

He stared at her lips before slowly rolling his gaze down her body. “No. Just making
sure your record is as clean as mine.”

Shit.
A direct hit of desire to her core burst upward as if he’d aimed a bomb between her
thighs. She squeezed her legs together to fight the urge to slip her hand into her
lap. “Are you trying to distract me from talking about nightmares?”

“It’s your fault. I’m being distracted by your perfume. Suddenly I don’t want anything
more for dessert but you. Any way I can have you.”

Her mouth went dry. “Marcus—”

“You on birth control? Because while I’d prefer to go without, we can use condoms.
They’re a little tougher to deal with one-handed. You’ll have to help me put them
on.”

“What are you doing?” Becki whispered, glancing around the room to make sure they
weren’t being overheard. Their nearest dinner partners seemed oblivious, but Becki
wasn’t sure if she should slap him or jump him.

Damn stupid body for mixing reactions.

Then he leaned back and relaxed, his body language shifting from sexual predator to
casual friendship. “See, if you were prone to doing something irrational and wild?
You would have at least thrown something at me for being a jerk just now, even though
we’re in a public place. Only you’re not like that, Becki. You’re a good person. Whatever
is hidden in your brain and pushing your buttons, it’s not that you were a crazed
lunatic, okay?”

Her pulse was still going a million miles an hour. She was torn between laughing and
punching him in the gut, but however twisted his method had been, it had worked. He
had a valid point. While she might be impulsive, she had never done anything cruel
or malicious, nothing to indicate the whack-job dreams were real.

His method of making his argument, however, had been over the top and outrageous.
She smiled. Kind of in character for him as well. Good thing she was bent, but not
broken.

One good—
deed
—deserved another.

“Yes.” She took a deep breath, filling her lungs and forcing her breasts against the
fabric of her top. His gaze dropped from her face, involuntarily tracing the edge
of her scoop-necked blouse as she arched slightly to make the swells ease upward even
farther.

His breathing skipped a notch. “Yes, what? You agree you’re not a crazy woman?”

“Definitely not crazy. Good point.” She dragged a finger through the leftover chocolate
on the plate before them, lifted it to her mouth, and slipped the gooey sauce between
her lips. Sucking lightly and
humming
as she stared at him from under her lashes. “Also, yes. I’m on birth control. I far
prefer being skin on skin during sex, but I’m picky about who I allow the privilege
of partnering with me bare. Although the idea of putting a condom on you does sound . . .
intriguing. I think I remember how.”

“Fuck.” Marcus breathed the word on a moan. His gaze lifted to meet hers, heat and
desire widening his pupils. His nostrils flared. He adjusted position in his seat
uneasily.

They stared at each other, Becki fighting to maintain her sultry smile without letting
it turn into the real
take me now
expression that wanted to escape. Then he broke, amusement brightening his dark visage
as he realized what she’d done. “Troublemaker.”

“You deserved that,” she insisted, hiding her real desires.

“Maybe. Probably.”

“Try definitely.” Becki smiled. “But as inappropriate and outrageous as we both were,
you’re right. I don’t think I did anything wrong in September. I wish I could know
for sure.”

“Hopefully someday. In the meantime, are we back on for training tomorrow? I have
an idea to try. I think it should work.”

She shivered but straightened. “I’ll be there.”

It wasn’t the notion of hitting the wall the next day that followed her for the rest
of the evening. Wasn’t the dread of going to sleep and once again experiencing a horrifying
reenactment of Dane falling from the mountainside.

Something else made her blood hum the entire trip home as Marcus helped her in and
out of the truck, walked her to the door of the dorms. Tipped an imaginary hat before
strolling off whistling.

Sexual desire pulsed through her veins and heated her skin.

She’d never been one to leave herself hanging, and if she didn’t want to be on the
phone and begging him to come crawl into her bed, something needed to be done now.
Becki slipped her clothes off and shook her head at the waste of her pretty underwear
not getting to be admired.

Then again, the expression on Marcus’s face when she’d mentioned going skin on skin?
Fixing that image in her mind was more than enough to make her limbs tremble.

She grabbed her vibrator from the dresser, and slid into bed. The cool of the sheets
brushing her torso as she squirmed into a more comfortable position didn’t do much
to lower her temperature. She leaned back on the pillows and dropped the toy aside
for a moment as she raised her hands to her breasts and cupped them, picturing Marcus
across from her, his gaze never leaving her body.

Breasts gone heavy and needy, her sex already wet, she wasn’t interested in a long,
drawn-out event. Not tonight, not when foreplay started after dinner. And while Marcus
had taught her the value of patience, rule two was
move decisively
.

She lifted the vibrator and pressed it to her clit, keeping the motor on low, knowing
that anything more would make her break far too soon for satisfaction.

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