Vivian Arend - High Passion

They could have lost each other, but they hadn’t. They’d done what they had to do, both of them, and now they could move forward.

Together.

They clung to each other for another moment before pulling apart. Devon caught her under the chin, the streaks of dirt and wet mud smeared on them forgotten as he looked into her eyes. “I love you, Alisha Bailey. Thank you for saving my life.”

She went teary-eyed before smiling back, the dim lantern light making them look as if they’d been painted up to play war games. “I love you, Devon. Thanks for saving mine.”

This time he was the one lying on the stiff white sheets of the hospital bed as Alisha parted the privacy curtains. Her smile broke over him like sunshine.

It was nearly five hours since Vincent had gone off the deep end. Under protest, Devon had been taken straight to the Banff hospital by Erin in the chopper while Alisha stuck around to accompany the RCMP. It got him medical attention a whole lot faster—he understood the reasoning, but he hated like hell that they’d been separated.

Now that he’d been poked and prodded and his wound wrapped up, he wanted nothing more than to be reunited with her and get the rest of the story. Seeing her just affirmed all over how much the rest of the story had to involve the two of them together.

“You clean up pretty good,” he teased, keeping it a whole lot more lighthearted than he wanted to. “Tell me you’ve come to rescue me.”

“Rescue you? I’m saving the staff. The nurses inform me you’re a shitty patient, and requested I please haul your ass out of here as soon as possible.” She stepped beside the bed and leaned in to kiss him.

He caught her around the waist and tugged her onto the bed, ignoring her protests and concentrating on kissing her senseless. She softened in his arms, her torso pressed tight to his, and he groaned softly, wanting nothing better than to take her home and prove all over again how much he wanted her.

How much he needed her.

She caressed his cheek, her lips against his breaking into a smile. “We should save this for later. Marcus called us all to HQ, if you’re feeling up for it.”

Devon sighed. “There goes the ten-kilometer hike I was going to suggest. Damn, that man ruins all our fun.” His brother’s familiar ring tone sounded, and Devon glanced at Alisha in surprise. “Do you have my phone in your pocket?”

She rolled off the bed. “Lana had your phone, so the police have it now. That’s my phone. I added Mark to my address book and figured your musical salute was as good as any . . . I called him while you were in surgery.” Devon growled, and she tossed him a dirty look even as she handed over the phone. “They’re your family, and they deserved to know.”

He tapped to answer the call, still giving Alisha the evil eye. “Mark?”

“Devon, oh God, are you okay?”

He couldn’t resist. “You caught me on the surgery table. You want prime rib or rump roast?”

To his surprise he didn’t get an instant lecture to grow up. Instead, Mark laughed with relief. “So good to hear you joking around. I’m glad to hear you made it through with only minor injuries. We’re all glad—the whole family. Didn’t want to keep you from your rest or anything, so I said I’d call on behalf of everyone.”

Devon stared at the phone for a moment before speaking. “Well, I’m okay.”

“You’re more than okay. You’re an amazing guy, and I’m damn proud of you. Sounds as if you and Alisha have a lot to tell us the next time you come into town. You want to come over sometime before Christmas? I mean before the big family thing? We’ll do adults-only dinner, and you guys can tell us about Lifeline a bit more. It’s tough to have a real conversation with the kids racing around all the time.”

So this was what shock felt like. Strange—took until this phone call for it to set in. “That sounds . . . That sounds like a great idea. We’d love to.”

“I’ll get an e-mail loop going with everyone, so we can nail down a time and a place that at least eighty percent of us can make it.”

“Okay.” Devon was sure he had a stupid grin on his face, and it only got bigger when Mark spoke again.

“You’ve done well for yourself, Devon. Your job isn’t what I would have chosen, but then you’re not me. I’m glad you’re doing something you love, but for God’s sake, don’t get shot again, okay?”

“I’ll work on that.”

Devon hung up and caught Alisha by the wrist, tugging her to his body and holding her close as he breathed past the emotions that threatened to make him bawl like a baby. His issues with his family weren’t over with one phone call, but it was a start.

“Thank you,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t know what you said to them, but thank you.”

She was smiling when they pulled apart, moisture in her eyes. “We’ll talk about it later. We’ve got a meeting to get to.”

He tried to refuse the hospital wheelchair, glaring at the nurse who’d rolled it to his bedside.

“Stop being a pain in the ass, Devon, and get in,” Alisha chided.

“Screw that. You get in, and I’ll carry both you and the chair to the door.”

“I’ll deal with him.” Alisha waved the nurse off. “Get in, Ironman, you can make race-car noises if that helps distract you.”

He laughed and let her have her way. What he really wanted was to go home so he could talk about Mark’s change of attitude, and grill her about exactly what she’d said to his brother to kick his ass into gear. Not to mention all the other matters they still had to settle.

As they passed the waiting room, the name Bailey Enterprises blared from the television on the wall. Devon caught the chair wheels and jerked himself to a halt.

Flashing on the screen were the words Executive Director Arrested.

Devon glanced at Alisha. Her teasing smile faded to a blank mask as the news reported Vincent’s arrest. The camera switched to follow a man who had to be her father escaping into his car as he waved off reporters with a “No comment.” The next shot showed a smartly dressed employee stepping forward to smooth the waters.

“Mr. Monreal’s arrest appears to be of a personal nature involving estranged family members. We at Bailey Enterprises want to assure our stockholders that this in no way will affect the company. CEO Mike Bailey is completely focused on moving toward the future in a strong and positive manner.”

Damn. Devon curled his fingers over hers. She squeezed them for a moment, but neither of them spoke until they were in private by her car.

Alisha took a deep breath, staring into the sky. “Well, that would explain why he’s not answering my calls. I’m obviously part of the problem, not the solution.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Devon began, but she held up a hand.

“It’s okay. If he wants to find me, he knows where I am. Otherwise, this might just be for the best.” She briefly buried her face against his chest before straightening and wiping away her tears. “Let’s get to the meeting before they send out a search crew for us.”

This wasn’t the end of the conversation, but Devon figured he should drop it for now. Another thing to add to the discussion they would continue when they got home.

She escorted him into the Lifeline staff area and found him a seat on the couch. Alisha curled up beside him, although she grew strangely quiet. She slipped her fingers into his, and he squeezed them reassuringly and waited for the update.

Around them the team gathered. Erin stopped to punch his shoulder lightly, Tripp and Anders nodding from across the room.

The sight of Xavier’s empty place burned.

Marcus stood by the door and looked the team over carefully, his gaze pausing on Devon. His expression smeared into disgust as he glared at the leg Devon had propped up on the table in front of him, his injury raised as per doctor’s orders.

Devon shifted uncomfortably. “Stop that, Marcus. You’re giving me a complex.”

“I can’t believe you were stupid enough to get shot.”

“It’s better already. Nearly healed even,” he lied.

Alisha made a noise, and Devon crossed his fingers that she’d hold her tongue and not mention anything about his possible concussion, or the other minor injuries the nurse had listed for him to watch out for.

He should have known he didn’t have to worry. Instead she changed the topic.

“You heard from the RCMP?” she asked Marcus.

He nodded. “We’re still missing details, but I wanted to let you have at least the basics. They picked up Lana on foot heading down the road from Takkakaw Falls.”

“On the road?” Erin sounded puzzled. “Then who made the tracks up to the entrance I was guarding?”

Marcus actually grinned for a moment. “Some poor sod who’d decided to set up a cache for the ice climbing season. He had a gearbox he’d hauled into the cave to save himself from having to carry everything once the snow gets deep. He nearly fainted when he got rounded up by RCMP waving guns at him.”

The moment of lightness passed all too quickly as their laughter died down and Marcus turned serious again.

“Lana says Vincent approached her after I’d hired her. He suggested all she needed was a chance to make a good impression on me, and I’d willingly move her onto the team full time. She took the drugs from him—he assured her he simply wanted a chance to play the hero to Alisha while he was in town. Wipe her brow and stuff while she was ill with the ‘flu.’”

“Seriously?” Tripp shook his head. “How could someone who wanted to work with the team agree to do a stupid thing like that?”