It wasn’t wrong, this sharing. A celebration of life and togetherness even as they were scared and nervous for Xavier. Emotion enveloped her as Devon stroked and teased and brought her to the point where she was quivering with the need for release.

Then he slowed, slipped his cock into her, and she sighed. The blue of his eyes shone like a summer’s sky over her as he slowly rolled his hips and made love to her. Not frantic sex, not a ravishing, but a perfect sharing.

Devon kissed her, his tongue teasing gently. When he pulled away, it was just far enough to look her in the eyes. She was being consumed by the intensity of his gaze. By the emotions right there, undeniable and potent.

“I love you.” The words whispered out as he continued to take her, their bodies intimately connected.

Alisha clutched his shoulders harder, being overwhelmed by the intensity. “Oh, Devon.”

He said it again, this time against her cheek. “I love you. I love your fire, your courage. Your giving heart.” He kissed her ear. Her neck. Over her face and body as he gathered her in his arms and continued to pepper her with kisses.

She knelt on either side of his hips, still connected, still rocking over him. Their bodies so tight together nothing seemed able to separate them. Tension rose; pleasure spread through her core and threaded over her body in a powerful way. When he tugged her back far enough to look into her eyes again, she held on for dear life as her climax hit and took him along, the two of them wrapped in pleasure and a type of unity she’d never expected to find.

She laid her head on his chest and let their racing heartbeats settle. Bodies slick together, panting breaths easing. Alisha had never felt this way before, and allowing the joy to spread through her as she soaked in his words and his actions—it was right.

Was it love? It was pretty incredible, whatever they wanted to call it. She didn’t think she needed to say anything, just snuggled tight against him and slowly relaxed into slumber.

When she woke earlier than Devon, it was to warm limbs tangled with hers, his arms enfolding her as if he would never let her go. She listened to his breathing, the strong, even sound grounding her in spite of her fears about Xavier.

She slipped from the bed and pulled on a T-shirt, pacing to the kitchen to turn on the kettle. Outside the sun hadn’t reached over the mountain yet, the sky bright but shadows filling the backyard. It seemed an eerie place between worlds with the light blocked from the corners, and she shivered.

It was tempting to hurry back to bed. To wake Devon and let him chase the ghosts from her mind. Only she wasn’t going to wake him simply to comfort her, like some kid. She could wait.

To distract herself she checked her phone messages and e-mail, frowning to discover a message from Vincent. She’d thought she’d ditched him and the whole issue of leaving Banff. She clicked it.

Meet me at eight. My suite.

God. He was still in town? Or in town again?

She opened the attachment. Stopped in shock. It was an engagement announcement for Alisha Bailey and Vincent Monreal. All the information organized like a press release, and the accompanying picture—them at the Banff Springs that first evening, his head intimately close to hers as if leaning to whisper secrets.

This was total and utter bullshit. Vincent’s continuing to bother her when she had far more serious matters to deal with did nothing but piss her off.

There was nothing in the e-mail to take to the police in terms of being illegal, but God, it was wrong to the very core. He’d had someone secretly take a picture even way back then? Outrageous. Alisha swore a blue streak and stomped into the kitchen to make coffee, hoping some caffeine would inspire her. Help her to deal with this . . . insanity.

She checked her watch. Thirty minutes until Vincent expected her to meet him. She glanced in the bedroom. Devon was still asleep, one arm over his head as his chest moved slowly with each breath. If she woke him she knew he’d come along in an instant. Be backup support—a safety net. Part of her wanted that so badly. To allow him to be the block between her and Vincent’s continuing crazy ideas.

Devon said he loved her. She was pretty sure she loved him, and the thought made her smile in spite of her anger at Vincent. In spite of her fears for Xavier.

Love. It had snuck up and wrapped around her.

Having the two men meet right now would only tangle the issues further, but she wasn’t about to make the same mistake she’d made the first time Vincent had frightened her.

She dressed quickly before sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking Devon’s arm gently. “Hey, wake up. I need to talk to you.”

His eyelids fluttered open, his gaze sharpening as he rolled to a sitting position. “Xavier?”

She shook her head. “No news yet. I got another e-mail from Vincent, and I’m ready to kick his fine-suited ass back to Toronto.”

All the sleep haze vanished. “What did he do now?”

“More of the same. Sent me a stupid engagement announcement, as if he’s planning on handing it out to the media. I’ve had enough of the asshole jerking me around, Devon. I’m going to talk to him and tell him he can shove his threats up his ass. He can make any bloody announcement he wants—I’ll deny it, and that’s it.”

Devon held her hands to stop her from flailing them in the air. “What about your dad? The company?”

“Nothing. I don’t care.” She took a deep breath and calmed herself, slipping one hand free to cup his face. “You said it last night. Focus on what’s important—the people who are important. I’ll call my father and give him a warning, but beyond that I don’t owe any of them anything.”

“I’ll come with you,” Devon said.

She pressed her fingers over his mouth, gently stroking his lips. “I’ll meet him in the lobby, or somewhere public, but I want to do this by myself.” His face tightened, and she frowned. “I mean it. I’m not being stupid, but I don’t want you to come with me and have this end up some kind of public brawl.”

“You don’t trust me to keep my temper?”

Alisha growled in frustration. “I don’t trust Vincent not to take the first swing, then find a way to pin it on you. Please, stay here. I’ll be back within the hour.”

She kissed him before he could protest again. He crushed her closer, his hands curling possessively around her lower back before setting her free.

“I don’t like it,” he complained.

Alisha backed away, letting his hands slip from hers. “I know, but thank you for letting me do this my way. I’ll call you if there’s any trouble. I promise.”

She tried Marcus’s number, but his phone went to messages. The rest of the short trip she fretted about Xavier and planned her approach with Vincent. More diplomacy was required than storming up to him and hitting him on the head with a large, blunt object.

She phoned him from the courtesy phone in the lobby. “I’m here.”

“You know my suite number.” Vincent spoke in clipped tones. “Stop wasting my time, and get up here.”

Bullshit on that. “I’m not going into your suite alone.”

He made a rude noise. “You don’t trust me?”

“Not one bit. If you want to talk, it’s in public.”

“You risk the media discovering us before we make the announcement official,” he pointed out.

Her anger shot higher. “I will not meet with you alone, Vincent.”

“Very well. Wait for me in the foyer.”

“No. I’ll be outside the teahouse restaurant.” She wanted some semblance of control headed into this façade. Besides, people passed that location regularly, but the chairs were far enough aside to allow a private conversation.

She might want witnesses, but she didn’t want to be overheard.

Waiting in the elegant setting made her skin itch. Devon texted her, but she ignored it, not ready to answer him while she still had to face Vincent. Her brain ached. Her heart was equally filled with hope from her time with Devon and her fears for Xavier. With so much uncertainty before them, both good and bad, the only undeniable point was that this ongoing stupidity with Vincent had to stop.

He strolled in, suited and groomed to the nines, and she took a sadistic pleasure in having pulled on her rattiest pair of jeans, most holey runners, and an old coat of Devon’s.

Alisha held up her phone with the link to the engagement announcement. “Is this your idea of a joke?”

Vincent was so smooth and calm she wanted to shake him. Or kick him, or do something physically painful and devastating. But he sat there like some untouchable statue, examining her with disdain. None of the façade of attraction he’d attempted during that first dinner meeting.

“It’s no joke. You will return to Toronto with me. I need to return, and there is no cause for you to remain any longer.”

“You’re being an idiot, Vincent. I have a job, I have—”

“Yes, your job.” Vincent leaned back and assessed her again, the fancy chandeliers around them reflecting flashes of light in his dark eyes. “How is Xavier?”

Alisha went cold through and through. Had there already been a news report about the accident? She didn’t think so. “How did you know he’s been hurt?”

“You were warned.” Vincent ignored her question, ignored her, instead meticulously straightening the cuffs of his suit jacket to lie smoothly. “Search and rescue is a dangerous line of work. Such a terrible thing that accidents can happen in the blink of an eye.”

She went to stand, but he shot forward, catching her hands and holding her in place. He tugged her to a sitting position and leaned in closer.