Vivian Arend - High Passion

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.

Devon pointed around the pool. “Looks like stations. Some workouts, some rescue simulations. Coach Williams doesn’t believe in much variety.”

“If it’s not broken, why fix it?” Alisha repeated solemnly.

He laughed. “God, how many times did we hear that over the years?”

They sat and watched for a few minutes, the familiar routine calming the nerves she’d developed walking through the doors. “We’ll have to wait until they’re done for our training.”

Devon twisted to face her, his gaze serious as he evaluated. “Let’s talk about that. You’re here, which first off, I’m impressed. I didn’t know if you would show.”

“You told me to,” she pointed out.

“Well, you had a hot date and all, I didn’t know if—”

Whoa, that one was stopping right here. “No. No hot date. I crashed yesterday, and hard. Vincent is not a date, in any shape or form, so forget that nonsense.”

Devon stared. Alisha wiggled.

“He’s not a date,” she insisted.

Devon shrugged. “I don’t care if he is or he isn’t. I’m saying you’re here now, and that’s good. You comfortable?”

Alisha ignored the comments about Vincent and considered how she felt. “I feel some stress because I’m being judged by you. It’s a pool, Devon. I’m not afraid.”

“So being in the proximity is fine? Take your time, think it through. If you want to strip and meditate for a bit, I won’t complain.”

“God, you are so annoying.” She stared at the water, the gentle waves on the surface flashing in the increasing sunlight. “Nothing. It’s a fucking pool.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Alisha had to pause for a moment to think about what she’d said, then swung her gym bag at him as he laughed. “Try really hard to get your dick under control, even though I know it’s the larger of your two brains.”

Devon faced the water. “Well, we’re here. We may as well make it worth our while. Just to be sure.” He faced her. “I thought about it more last night, and I want to make it clear what we’ll do if something big comes up before we’re sure you’re a hundred percent. If we get a coastal call before then, I mean.”

“There’s not much odds of that situation arising, is there?” Alisha hated the note of begging in her voice. She cleared her throat, and spoke quieter, even though there was no way they could be overheard with the bedlam rising from the class. The students had switched exercises and were now egging each other on through an obstacle course around the pool. “Marcus said we’ll extend our territory, but chances are low we’ll get called out anytime soon, and even if we did, I can beg off the first situation without anyone crying foul.”

Devon sighed. “So you’ve got a bit of leeway. But, Alisha?” He turned his blue gaze on her and she was mesmerized, like a deer caught in the headlights. “If you have to call off a rescue, that’s it. That’s your last chance. If we’re not both confident you’re safe, promise me you’ll give notice. I won’t demand you tell Marcus why—you could give any excuse you want so you could eventually get back into SAR, but that seems to be the only logical solution.”

She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “You’re right—”

His instant grin made her roll her eyes, and the awkward tension faded, to be replaced with the unending pull of competition and attraction rampant between them.