Vivian Arend - High Passion

She raised a brow. “Oh, yeah, so much fun as we hauled the entire kayak out of the pool on a winch system. I still have the newspaper report. The one with you as front-page news.”

“Hey, when you got it, flaunt it. The Banff Crag and Canyon needed my extraordinary good looks to peak sales that week.”

“So giving.” Alisha made a face as she rose to her feet, taking her empty glass with her. “Marcus, I need a refill.”

Their boss waved her off, busy arguing with Erin about what upgrades the pilot was allowed to get on the larger, brighter, faster helicopter.

Devon . . .

He watched.

Like he always watched, especially Alisha.

The tension in her body as she’d walked away? The lack of gushing at Marcus’s big news? That wasn’t the Alisha he’d been around for the past four years.

She should have been vibrating in her seat, asking a million questions. Usually her reactions would have driven him crazy as she poked and teased in what he’d come to consider the longest foreplay session in the fucking universe.

Walking away quietly? Something was beyond wrong.

Curiosity drove him, as did the need to get them to the next stage of the game. Which meant he needed to find out what the hell was wrong.

So he could fix it.

She’d shot him down once, a long time ago. Probably didn’t even remember she’d told him to grow up and get a life. To stop goofing around and wasting his opportunities.

The cutdown had actually sunk in, and he’d decided to do just that. Done it so well, in fact, that her taunt had changed his future.

It was time for a little positive payback and an end to their sexual frustration. He was going to find out what had put that sadness behind her eyes. Find out, and help her deal with it.

No turning back.

After years of reacting instantly to all kinds of life-and-death situations, Alisha thought she was beyond panicking without proof. The trembling in her hands proved otherwise.

It was the one topic guaranteed to throw her over the edge, though.

Somehow she got through the rest of the meeting. Smiled and nodded in all the correct spots, and kept her concern to herself. She’d fooled everyone in the room other than maybe Devon, who had her fixed in his gaze every time she took her eyes off Marcus. She slipped out of Lifeline headquarters ahead of the team and was in her car headed home before she could be invited for lunch, or a workout, or whatever else they came up with.

The short trip from the industrial area where their SAR base was located to her apartment wasn’t enough time to distract her. The summer had been incredible—in that, Marcus had been correct. It wasn’t only the successful rescues. Alisha had been a member of Lifeline for two and a half years now, and this was the first summer she’d felt she’d grown closer to all the members. Even Erin seemed to more than tolerate her, although the prickly woman often wore an expression of amusement as they did things.

Being a part of something as exciting and big as Lifeline was what Alisha had wanted from the start, and she’d become more successful than she’d dreamed possible.

Wasn’t all you wanted to achieve . . .

Alisha stormed into the tiny kitchen and grabbed herself a glass of juice, ignoring the urge to go fill a cart with nothing but junk food so she could have a nice pity party.

She wandered to the window and stared over the street, the uneven rooftops and towering pines turning even the civilized city into a kind of wilderness. Inside, the rustic roof timbers and her thrift shop furniture added to the surreal effect. This inelegant setting was home, vastly different from what had been home for so many years.

Alisha flopped onto the couch and pulled out her phone. She tapped in the familiar number and waited to run the gauntlet.

“Mr. Bailey’s office. How can I help you?” The words snapped out. Crisp. Cold. The woman hadn’t cracked a smile in all the years Alisha had known her.

“Hello, Marilee. It’s Alisha. May I please speak with my father?”

“Alisha.”

No So good to hear from you, or How are you doing? but Alisha hadn’t expected more than polite distance. Efficiency was the name of the game, after all.

Marilee finally continued, “He’s in a meeting, but as soon as he’s done I’ll have him call you. Did you need me to arrange anything else? I haven’t received your response regarding flights for Thanksgiving.”

Drat. She’d been avoiding answering that particular e-mail as long as possible. “I’m afraid I still don’t know my schedule for early October yet. I’ll have a decision made within the week.”

“Very good.” In spite of the words, Marilee’s tone dripped with disapproval. It was hard to not laugh. Alisha knew very well which of them had Marilee’s loyalty—her or her father. “Thank you for calling.”

The loud click triggered images of the perfectly coiffured secretary slamming down the phone hard enough to crack the case flitted to mind. Not that anyone in Bailey Enterprises would ever act out of line, but it was fun to picture.

Alisha shoved her phone in her pocket and went to deal with her workout gear, double-checking that her emergency clothing stash was in place. If she was called on short notice to work a rescue, searching for socks was the last thing she wanted to waste time on.

In some areas being efficient was necessary, but her family took it to ridiculous extremes, especially outside the office doors.

Enough moping about her father, at least until he called. Alisha turned up the music and poked through the fridge, but nothing looked interesting. Nor the cupboards. She’d lost her appetite during the morning meeting, and it seemed there wasn’t much of a chance to get it back soon.

Coastal rescues? The advancement was a huge honour, and definitely something to celebrate, but would her family even register that the team had set another milestone?

Frustration flared again, this time at herself as much as them.

By now she should know better than to expect accolades, or even a brief hurrah. That the longing for approval still rose seemed cruel.

The phone rang and she checked the screen, almost hoping for a SAR call to pull her away from having to speak with him.

No such luck.

“Hello?”

“Your father will speak with you now.” Marilee put Alisha on hold to make the connection.

Because heaven help it if Mike Bailey had to wait on the line for a moment or two, even to talk with his own daughter.

“Alisha. It’s about time you made your Thanksgiving plans.” His soft-spoken tone hid his stubbornness. What he called willfulness when she displayed the same tenacity.

Well, she wasn’t ready to cave. “I’m not sure yet that a trip east will work with my schedule. I didn’t call about that, I called to find out if you’d been making donations to the Banff SAR school or Lifeline.”

“The corporation makes donations to all sorts of worthy causes, Alisha. I’d have to check the records—”

“Please do. I specifically asked you to stay out of my business here in Banff. I’d like to confirm you’re honouring that agreement.”

Her father’s sigh echoed through the speaker. “I promised not to interfere, and honestly, as far as I know, no, Bailey Enterprises has not made a donation to your old school or Lifeline. Even though I’d imagine they’d enjoy receiving one.”

“They probably would, only there are enough rich pockets to scoop into without diving into yours. I need this to be my—”

“Yes, Alisha. You want to do it on your own. Fine. You did. You’re now a climber and ski bum instead of part of the family business. It seems to make you happy, so good for you.”

The really sad thing, he wasn’t being sarcastic. Just out of touch and oblivious, as usual. “I am happy here. By the way, Lifeline is now the premier search-and-rescue team for all of western Canada.”

“It’s . . . fine. Good for you,” he repeated. Distraction blurred his voice.

Her father was no doubt simultaneously signing paperwork as Marilee placed it before him, unable to stop and listen to his only daughter for five minutes. He’d never allow himself to be that unfocused if she were a business contact with real important news.

“Yes, it is good. In fact, it’s incredible.” The idea of an expanded territory thrilled her and sent shivers down her spine at the same time. Wasn’t it enough to impress him? “I got a raise.”

He actually laughed, and bitter frustration rushed her as he stomped on her wishful dreams. “Well, now you can afford your fancy lifestyle, can’t you? Alisha, enjoy yourself. Get it all out of your system so when you come home next summer we don’t have to put up with more of your gallivanting.”

There was a point in every conversation with her father when Alisha’s blood pressure got too high to continue. This was five minutes past when she should have given up. “I don’t think I’ll make it home for Thanksgiving this year. Tell Mom I said hello, and I’ll e-mail her soon.”

Alisha didn’t wait for his farewell. Best-case scenario, he would offer platitudes in an attempt to smooth the conversation over. Worst case would be an attack, shaming her for her lack of feminine compliancy.

She paced through the tiny attic space, feet unwilling to stop, her furious energy needing some outlet of escape. She fidgeted with everything she passed as she walked in circles.

She wanted to scream. Wanted to throw things. Wanted to beat her body into submission with another workout, but that was unreasonable. It would be stupid to punish herself when her father was the one who should be apologizing.