Vivian Arend - High Risk

Only she wasn’t really sure who she was instead. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost track.

And when you got lost, you went back to the beginning and started again.

On an impulse, Becki slid open the desk drawer. She pulled out the set of coloured markers she suspected she’d find there. A sheet of paper joined the markers on the desktop, and without any further consideration she wrote in block letters.

BEGINS WITH A SINGLE STEP

She tacked the bold statement in the middle of the bulletin board before stepping away to examine it. As a motivation, that was all she needed. She didn’t have to solve all the problems of who she was right now, who she’d be in the future. One step at a time, she’d find out.

The sunshine beckoned, so she exchanged her travel clothes for running pants, adding a water bottle holder. She was debating gloves or no gloves—temperatures were still nippy—when there was a knock on the door.

She peered out the security peephole and nearly died.

Marcus.

His face had matured. She’d thought him handsome before, all those years ago, but at thirty he’d still been young. Not babyish—that word would never have crossed anyone’s mind in describing Marcus—but more like unrealized potential. Now? His cheeks and jaw were firmer, his blue eyes just as alert. Small character lines extended from the corners, and she wanted to touch them. To smooth away the crease marks between his brows.

His shoulders were as wide as she remembered, his open jacket stretched over a firm chest. Her mouth went dry recalling exactly how firm his body had been. Was.

He knocked again and she jerked into action, even as memories tumbled in her brain.

As the door opened, Marcus dragged on his best manners. See, David, I can be something better than an asshole when I want to be.

He pinned his smile in place as he spoke to the woman slowly coming into view. “Rebecca James? I don’t know if you remember me. . . .”

A rock slide couldn’t have hit with more impact. Even knowing she was going to be there didn’t reduce the shock. The face before him wasn’t only pretty, it was familiar. Very familiar. He hadn’t seen it in real life for years, but he’d seen it plenty in his mind.

Her eyes lit for a split second before her smile faded, as if she weren’t sure what to do next.

He sure the hell didn’t.

“Hi, Marcus. Nice to see you again.” She straightened, clutching the front of her water bottle holder. “Are you visiting David?”

“I live here.”

“In Banff? Since when?”

“For the past four years.” He gestured into the room, still reeling from the shock. “And you’ve gone back to your student days.”

Suddenly that was the worst possible thing he could have said, because all he could picture was her naked and spread before him—on the bed, in the giant tub at the Banff Springs Hotel. Up against the wall, her skin slick with moisture as he pinned her in place and rocked his cock into her willing body again and again.

One wicked weekend. Taking him and breaking him apart with her sensuality.

He was staring—he knew he was. But her lips were still firm, that hint of mischief there as she smiled. While her dark brown hair was pulled back into a tidy ponytail, his mental images were of it tousled around her head as he held himself over her, intimately connected. The curves of her body were clearly visible under her tight running outfit, and he had the urge to strip her and see exactly how well his memories lined up with the new reality.

The door shifted position and Marcus snapped his gaze off her hips, where he’d been momentarily trapped.

Her smile had gotten bigger. “Seems you haven’t changed much.”

Her teasing tone saved his butt. She wasn’t pissed off; that was good. He leaned against the door frame, and this time it was his turn to have her touch him with her gaze, assessing, weighing.

He saw it on her face, the moment she spotted his arm. Or more accurately, where his arm wasn’t. The empty lower sleeve on his left was pinned up so it wouldn’t flap. It was a simple enough solution that at a glance left tourists in town completely oblivious.

“Oh, damn. Marcus? When . . . ? I’m so sorry.”

The sexual buzz died in a flash as he prepared to reassure her, and be all understanding and shit. The usual hassle he went through when dealing with someone about to freak over his missing limb.

He expected her to flee into her room in disgust, or stand frozen uncertain what to do—the two most common responses to his amputation. It shocked the hell out of him when she moved forward instead and planted her hand on his shoulder. He was the one rendered speechless as she lightly squeezed lower and lower until she found the end of the stump, just past his elbow.

She nodded briefly a second before deep crimson flushed her face. “Oh, dear. That was really, really rude. I’m sorry.”

He caught her with his right hand before she could step back. “No worries. Refreshing response, actually. It’s nice to see you’re not going to run screaming in terror.”

Her jaw dropped. “No. Way. You’re telling me that—no, later. First, how long ago?”

“Four years.”

Understanding lit her eyes. “Way to be welcomed home. I am sorry. You mind talking about it?”

He released his grip on her upper arm, letting his fingers slip over the soft fabric of her running shirt like a caress. There was more to the woman now than when she’d been a hotshot rock star on the climbing wall. Getting her to help train his crew was no longer the only thing on his agenda.

“I don’t mind telling the story, but I’m interrupting your run. Shall I come back later? Can I take you out for lunch? I’d like to talk to you about a few things.”

More than a few things.

She didn’t hesitate. “You want to run with me? I can wait until you get changed.”

Oh God. He hadn’t lied to David when he said he’d been keeping in shape the best he could, but if Becki was anything now like she’d been years ago, he didn’t expect a run with her to be a light stroll through the park. Becki always had been all about the challenges.

What the hell. He’d never stepped back from a challenge before. “I have workout gear in the staff room. Meet me by the gym doors?”

Becki nodded as her thorough examination of him resumed. Marcus forced his thoughts to icebergs and math equations to keep his body from responding to the heat in her eyes. Running was going to be bad enough without his dick being hard.

She was finally done, the seductive smile that had first caught his attention so long ago firmly back in place. “Then I’ll finish getting ready and see you there.”

He was still staring at her ass when she closed the door on him.

She set one foot on the railing and stretched as she waited, wondering again if her instinctive urge to blurt the first thing she thought of would ever lessen.

Asking Marcus to join her? Fine—they had years to catch up on. They hadn’t had much of a relationship before he’d disappeared, and even casual acquaintances could enjoy a spur-of-the-moment workout. A get to know you better outing.

But join her on a run?

She’d have to stop the post-training images from distracting her. The ones where he stripped off his shirt as they stretched, the slick of sweat on his skin highlighting his muscles. He had aged well. She wanted to know if his abdomen was still rock solid, and if when he pressed his body over hers if he’d be able to hold her trapped with one hand—

And that was exactly where this wasn’t supposed to go.

She sighed. Taking control of her rampaging thoughts, she leaned against the side of the building and stared into the forest, skimming her gaze over the bits and pieces of the city visible in the distance. As if someone had taken a snapshot of her years ago, and she’d stepped back in time. It was familiar, and yet she wasn’t the same person. This wasn’t about going home, not really. It was a new beginning.

The door beside her opened and Marcus walked out, his head snapping toward her as a sexy melt-her-panties smile lit his face.

Starting new? They’d had only one weekend. Who was to say they couldn’t simply have another sometime?

He held out water, condensation glistening on the surface of the plastic. “I grabbed you a cold one from the staff fridge.”

Becki accepted it happily, pouring the icy water into the bottle that fit in her belt holder. Marcus threw the empty into the gym and tugged the door shut behind him.

“How long and how hard?” she asked. The question escaped before she could consider the innuendo. Her face must have been beet red.

His grin widened. “An hour, and I’m game for hill repeats, if you are.”

The old training routes around the school were still etched into her mind. “Heartbreak Hill?”

He nodded, and they moved in unison to the relatively level warm-up path. The wide trail wove through the forested area, small rises and dips, nothing too imposing.

The temporary silence between them felt easy, but her curiosity needed to be answered. “You returned four years ago? So that means you got back a year after I left.”

Marcus dodged a fallen branch. “I needed a home base. David was still happy here in Banff, and I figured, why not?”

“Are you teaching, then?”

“No, I organized a private search-and-rescue company. The federal government can’t keep up with the demand to haul people’s butts out of trouble, so I stepped in.”