High Risk (18 page)

CHAPTER
19

Icy cold fingers trickled along the back of her neck. She opened her eyes to see the
cliff face slowly rotate past a few feet away from her as she dangled on the end of
a rope. Everything else remained shrouded behind a veil of cloud. She stretched out
a hand to stop herself from spinning, bloody knuckles shaking as she tried to touch
the rock. It remained out of reach. Too far for her arms to span.

How long had she hung there?

She clutched the rope and peered below her, still revolving in circles as the wind
caught her. Zero visibility. Two feet below her to safety, or a death drop?

* * *

Becki sat up with a gasp, heart pumping wildly.

Marcus pressed his arm around her farther as he sat as well, naked chest warming her
back. He surrounded her as he made soft shushing noises, rubbing his chin against
her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

She rotated in his arms, not caring that she was being a total wimp. Every inch of
her was cold with dread, and she buried her face against his neck, hiding in his arms.

He wiggled upright and pulled her into his lap, leaning them both on the headboard
as he stroked her hair. “I got you,” he repeated. “You’re safe.”

She drew a shaky breath. “Nightmare.”

“I figured. No worries.”

He kept touching her, dragging his hand through her hair, his left arm wrapped around
her as far as it would go. She was plastered skin to skin with him, and it was barely
enough. His heat remained a faint whisper—barely making a cut into the frigid stench
of her fear.

Take back control. Refuse to give up. I am the master of my soul. . . .

She forced out the words, fighting to find something to focus on other than her fright.
“If I shake much harder, you can pretend this is one of those vibrating beds they
show in cheap B movie hotel rooms.”

Marcus tucked his fingers under her chin, tilting her head back far enough so he could
press a kiss to her forehead. “Do those things exist anymore?”

He knew what she was doing, or he was at least willing to play along. “I don’t know
why. Can’t imagine they add anything to the experience more than what you bring.”

“Flattery will get you everything,” he promised. “You want a drink?”

She nodded. Staying in bed was out. She itched to run. To do something to wear herself
out until the nightmares stayed away.

They separated, crawling off the mattress. Marcus handed her a robe, his dark gaze
meeting hers until she looked away, too ashamed of bringing her fears into their situation.
It was too soon for this to be considered a relationship, and she’d already tossed
a great big enormous wrench into the works.

Go her.

He dragged on a pair of sweatpants, then held out his hand. It might have been pathetic,
but she accepted his clasp like a lifeline, linking her fingers with his and holding
on as they walked back through the dimly lit rooms to the kitchen.

“Tea? Something stronger?”

She shook her head. “Tea is enough.”

She sat on one of the tall bar stools at the breakfast counter while he filled the
kettle, a thought nagging her.

“It was different.”

He turned back to her. “What’s that?”

“The dream. It wasn’t the same one that’s been kicking my butt all week.”

“That’s . . . good. I suppose. Still sounds as if it wasn’t pleasant.”

“It wasn’t, but at least maybe the skipping memories will stop. They might move ahead
now.” She could handle being terrified if she got to the truth.

Marcus leaned forward, resting on his elbows as he faced her. The counter separated
them, but with him staring so intently, his presence still held her surrounded. “You’ll
get there. It will come back. In the meantime, you need to sleep. You can’t keep going
on an empty tank.”

“I don’t want to take drugs.” She shivered and wrapped the soft fabric closer around
her shoulders. “I did eight weeks of treatment after the accident, and I hated the
side effects.”

Marcus nodded. He squeezed her fingers for a second before turning to the cupboards,
looking for something. “I hear you. I cut out of my therapies well before they said
I was supposed to. Typical of our kind of minds—too stubborn to simply accept the
traditional therapies.”

Watching him move around the kitchen was distracting if nothing else, his naked upper
body highlighted in the dim lights he’d clicked on in the hall. The resulting shadows
and faint glow only highlighted his muscles as he dropped loose leaf tea into a pot,
reaching back into the upper shelves to bring out cups. His sweatpants sat low on
his hips. Bands of muscle wrapped around his waist, his abdomen flexing as he moved.

He used his left arm as much as his right, comfortably holding items to his body,
or clasping the tea jar in the crook of his elbow. For the fiddly work he used his
right hand, but other than that, he seemed unaware of the missing portion of his arm.

She’d been oblivious last night. Never once during sex had it registered.

“You’re staring,” he noted. “Do I have something stuck on me I can’t see?”

“I was looking at your arm,” she confessed.

Marcus pushed the teapot to the side and walked around the counter. “Took you long
enough.”

He lifted his arm toward her, as he had when she’d checked out his climbing prosthesis.
Only now there was his arm and the stump end, nothing covering it. Becki looked up
at his face as she laid her hand on his elbow and pressed it down. “I was just noticing
you don’t allow it to stop you.”

“Oh God, don’t start that.” He lifted his arm again, nudging her with it until she
grabbed on. “I don’t have fingers. I can’t reach out the same way I used to. It’s
a royal pain in the ass at times, but mostly it just is. There’s nothing to be admired.
I’d prefer you were drooling over my sexual prowess or something I have more control
over.”

Becki touched him, wrapping her fingers around his bicep even as she smiled. “Well,
there is that as well. Yes, on a scale of one to ten, I admire your cock a whole lot
more than your arm.”

He laughed.

She ran her fingers over the four inches or so that remained of his forearm. The dusting
of hair was dark against his light tan, the skin smooth. Muscles and tendons flexed
under her touch as she worked her way lower until she cupped the end. There the skin
was rougher, slightly rumpled in spots.

Marcus shivered.

She jerked her hand away. “Does it hurt?”

“You’re tickling me,” he teased. “Let me grab our tea.”

Becki let him go. He might not want to be admired, but she still did because he had
done what she wanted to do. Gone on living. Put his energies into a new direction.

Marcus pressed a cup against her fingers before jerking his head toward the living
room. “Come on, curl up on the couch and we’ll get cozy until the tea kicks in.”

“You giving me some patented home remedy?”

“Herbal. Yeah, it’s one of those ‘calms you down, makes you drowsy’ natural Chinese
blends.”

He sat first, and she unashamedly crawled right back into his lap as she’d done when
she’d woken up. Marcus didn’t say anything at first, just sipped his tea and held
her close.

Marcus spoke quietly. “I think it freaks people out.”

“Your arm?”

He paused. “You know, it’s more like they can’t understand why I’m not making a bigger
deal of it. Like I’m supposed to be all emo and pissed that I lost a limb. Fuck it—I’d
take my life over my hand any day, and that’s about what it came down to. People don’t
know the big picture, though. They see what they see, and expectations and assumptions
creep in.”

“If you’re handicapped you’re supposed to be a victim, you know.”

“Right,” he drawled, “or admired for doing what simply isn’t a big deal. People need
to get real. If we’re honest, everyone deals with physical limitations of some sort,
whether they’re too short to reach into high cupboards, or too out of shape to run
for the bus. It’s the mental stuff that takes more effort. Takes incredible bravery.”

She fought to keep from whimpering. “I don’t feel very brave at the moment.”

“Oh, Becki. I know.” He put down his drink, rubbing her back gently as she clung to
him. His voice carried to her ears, a low whisper, yet full of conviction. “Listen
to me. Trust me. You have more than enough courage to face this valley and, in time,
climb out the other side.”

She took a deep breath as she let his reassurances settle over her.

Being with him helped. Marcus could truly understand the haunting pain she fought.
He still struggled with his own demons—she was sure of it. The days he’d gone missing,
his
episodes
as he called them, had to have a cause. The caress of his hand said this was more
than a standard show of sympathy.

Somehow, without another word, she knew he understood her battle. And while the war
still raged for him as well, he hadn’t given up. His determination motivated her beyond
belief.

The heat of his chest lulled her, as did the warmth of the tea. She finished the mug
and he took it from her fingers, nestling in tighter as she wrapped her arms around
his torso. It was quiet except for the sound of their breathing, the faint pulse of
his heart under her ear.

If the nightmares came, he’d chase them away.

* * *

Marcus waited until her breathing calmed to a smooth rhythm. Too many emotions waged
inside for a simple answer to his current state of mind. He’d given her tea, supported
her. Done what he could to ease her fears, all the while not letting her catch a glimpse
of what was hiding inside.

When she screamed, he’d been the one frozen in terror.

Memories rushed in, the unanswerable cries that haunted him. The unspeakable pain
of being unable to help. But Becki was flesh and blood, and his drive to soothe her
had forced his personal demons into retreat.

They returned now to poke him as he lifted her and carried her back to bed. All the
while as he slipped off her robe and arranged her limbs on the mattress, his mind
raced with unsolvable scenarios.

Becki curled up so sweetly, her fingers clinging to his arm as he touched her. He
tugged himself free to strip off his sweatpants then rejoined her. She pressed her
body against his, reaching back to pull his arm over her. Her fingers lingered on
his stump, running lightly over the sensitive skin on the inside of his elbow. Then
she fell fully asleep again, leaving him with his tortured thoughts.

Seeing her struggle with her fears only emphasized his faults. Not his hand—he’d told
her the truth when he said he could live without a goddamn hand. It was the pain of
what he couldn’t fix that preoccupied his nightmares.

What if he couldn’t do for her? What if somewhere along the road he failed her? He
should leave her alone, but he was too damn selfish to want that as an option.

He was still no closer to an answer when they woke the next morning, pissing rain
smacking against the windowpane.

She twirled in his arms and kissed him, squirming away before he could do anything
more than blink drowsily. “Sleepyhead. I’ve been awake for an hour.”

“Why didn’t you take advantage of me then?” He leaned on his elbow as she strode naked
to the window, hands pressed to the glass. She wrinkled her nose and pouted at the
weather.

“Stupid rain.” She turned again, arms crossing over her breasts. “Ravishment was not
on the list for this morning.”

“It
is
on the list, though. Good to know.”

She grinned and plopped back on the edge of the mattress, far enough away that he’d
have to lunge to grab her. “I feel wonderful. Your miracle tea and the rest of the
night’s sleep did wonders. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Good thing one of them had gotten some rest. “Plans for the day.
You have anything you need to do?”

She shook her head. “I’ve got the week organized, so if we want to train this morning,
I’m game.”

“Breakfast first?”

“God, yes, I’m starving.” Becki stood and went to her bag, pulling out clothing before
swinging away from him toward the bathroom. “I’ll shower, then you can tell me what
to make, okay?”

Being around her was comfortable. Relaxed.

Maybe too relaxed. Marcus lay back for a moment and debated the wisdom of getting
into the shower with her and starting all over again. He hadn’t had nearly enough
of her yet.

She was right, though. Getting out for a while wasn’t a bad idea. Burn off a little
energy, then they’d come back and see what other mischief they could get into. So
he ignored his morning wood and slipped to the kitchen to see what he had in the house.
Something with a lot of calories to make sure they had enough to keep going for a
long, long time.

CHAPTER
20

The first hour of training was a complete and utter failure. Becki collapsed onto
the mat beside him and cursed wildly.

Marcus waited for her to finish letting off steam. He rested his hand on her thigh,
rubbing lightly as she lay with her arms crossed over her face.

She’d warmed up, roped in, and attempted to climb. Each time she’d been no higher
than the five-foot marker before she’d call for a stop and he’d lower her to safety.
He’d suggested other routes, other things she could do to train, but she’d insisted.

She might be willing, but her fear was having nothing to do with it. She was like
a clipped bird, stuck on the ground.

Her chest heaved as she dragged in a huge breath and released it slowly.

“What am I going to do, Marcus? I can’t wrap a blindfold around my head and expect
you to follow me everywhere, talking me through routes.”

Frustration and anger—at herself—screamed out no matter how softly she’d spoken.

“Why are you pushing so hard to go vertical?” he asked. “You need to get into shape
again, and there’s no reason why you can’t do that while staying close to the floor.”

She cranked her elbow out of the way to deliver a scathing glare. “Baby steps.”

“I’ll join you,” Marcus offered. “Come on, it’s way more fun to have someone else
to work over and laugh at when they fall off a section you aced than worrying about
what you can’t change right now.”

Becki flipped to her stomach and crawled toward him. “Stop being reasonable. I was
getting ready for a good pout, and you had to go and ruin it for me.”

He caught her around the waist and pulled her close. Becki rested her hands on his
shoulders while his fingers teased the line of skin at the edge of her shorts. “Sorry,
but tell me that
reasonable
isn’t what you’d have suggested if our positions were reversed.”

“Hmm, reversed positions. Now you’re onto something.” She made contact with his chest
and pushed. The move came quickly enough that he lost his balance, landing on his
back to discover he was looking up at her. She’d straddled him, a shining grin exchanged
for the anger she’d shown only a moment before.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he warned. “I just suggested wall circuits. I’m not going
to fool around until you’ve done at least two.”

“Oh, really?” Becki undulated her hips, and he gave his dick hell for reacting.

She leaned down, the swoop of her climbing top low enough to reveal the rounded line
of her cleavage. He looked forward to exploring her all over again very shortly, but
first? Self-control was demanded. “You know you want to climb.”

Becki planted her hands on either side of his head and sighed lustily. “I want to
climb
you
, but fine. Work first. Play later.”

She kissed him. Lips soft and warm. Eager tongue slipping to tangle with his. The
position put her full-out over the top of him, and he was seriously considering throwing
the workout aside for at least an hour when there was a loud slam, and a rush of cooler
air filled the room.

She sprang back, scrambling to her feet. Marcus joined her as three people walked
through the door, their loud joking echoing in the gym.

“I still don’t believe you did that.” Tripp poked Devon in the chest. “Alisha is going
to kill you.”

“She’s got to catch me first.” Devon stopped a few feet away from them, his bright
grin innocently shining out. “Hey, Marcus. Becki. What’s up?”

Marcus looked over his team. Devon, Tripp, Xavier. “What’re you doing here on a day
off?”

“Interview for the paper. The reporter wants shots to accompany the article, and we
figured David wouldn’t mind if we used the gym.”

Devon seemed oblivious, but Tripp was giving Becki and him some pointed looks. Xavier
had already wandered off to the change room, no doubt to grab harness and climbing
shoes.

“Umm, you don’t think David will mind, do you?” Devon fidgeted, finally picking up
on some of the tension in the room.

Marcus wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t lie, no matter how much he regretted losing
their privacy. Of course, now the likelihood of getting their workout completed increased
exponentially. “Not a problem at all. We’ll stay out of your way.”

He joined Becki in the corner where she’d retreated. “Sorry about that. You still
game to continue?”

She leered at him dramatically, then laughed. “Well, sure. Why not?”

He glanced around quickly, and when he realized they were alone for a moment, he leaned
in, caging her with his body. “You know what you started earlier?”

A slight wiggle was enough to rub them together intimately. “Yeah?”

“We’re finishing later. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Becki rotated slowly, rubbing her butt against him as she got into position on two
small holds barely off the ground.

He wanted to lean over and bite her, but the guys burst from the change room at that
moment.

Plans postponed, not cancelled.

She settled into a routine. Stepped to a new hold, joined her feet or crossed them
over. All the time as she traversed, she never picked any hold higher than her arm’s
length up.

She might have called this exercise baby steps, but it was still valuable conditioning,
and they both knew it.

“Hey, stop staring at my ass and get moving,” Becki taunted, too softly for the boys
to hear on the far side of the gym.

“It’s a nice ass.”

She laughed, and something inside him rejoiced at seeing her making the best of it.

He switched attachments on his prosthetic, leaving the claw behind for a small ax-shaped
device instead. One side a point, the other flat, he could use it pretty much like
a hand without worrying about it coming apart or getting stuck on him.

He paced past Becki, supposedly to check her positioning, but really to take advantage
of the position she was in. He caught hold of her ankle and adjusted it, lightly stroking
her inner thigh until he paused with his hand cupped over her sex. He kept his body
between her and the team, blocking his movements.

“You know, whatever you do I’m doing back to you first chance I get.” Becki pumped
her hips over his fingers.

Marcus glanced over his shoulder to ensure that his team was otherwise occupied. “You
can grope me anytime you’d like.”

“Game on,” Becki whispered.

The exercise should have been called
sexual tension repeats
. She hopped off the wall and challenged him to try a section. The entire time he
worked on placing his hand, hook, and feet, she was right behind him, touching him
under the guise of “guiding him into position.”

“There’s a nice spot longing for you to fill it over here, Marcus. Slip your fingers
in nice and slow. That’s right. Oh, yeah, and now push with your hips. Another inch.
Hmmm, come on, give it everything you’ve got.”

He took smaller steps as his cock reacted. Fell off the wall to get a little relief.
Then he’d turn around and taunt her in return, both of them working like the devil
to keep their laughter and filthy comments low enough not to be overheard by the others.

When the knock sounded, Marcus had almost forgot about the reporter. He briefly debated
ducking into the change room until the invader and his accompanying cameraman left.
But the team seemed to have it under control. Becki watched for a moment with a wary
expression, and Marcus leaned in close.

“You look thrilled to see them.”

“Let’s just say reporters aren’t my favourite people.”

Marcus paused. “You want to get out of here?”

Becki nodded. “If you don’t mind. We can stretch in the dorms or something.”

He bumped her to draw her attention from where she was staring across at the two men
setting up camera equipment. “You’re not trying to get out of spending the day with
me, are you?”

Her eyes were tired, but she smiled. “Sorry. Distracted. No, we can go back to your
place. I’m good with that.”

He wanted to see that smile return that she’d worn only moments before.

Marcus motioned to her gym bag, then grabbed his own things, keeping Becki close by
his side. They’d almost made it when he noticed the reporter waving.

Ignore the man and pretend he hadn’t seen? They weren’t close enough to the door to
duck out without making it obvious that their departure was an escape.

“Heads up, Becki, company,” he warned as the reporter jogged across the room.

“Hi, Marcus. Good to see you climbing again.”

“Ted.” Marcus acknowledged him with a brief nod.

“Wanted to say hello.” Ted extended a hand to Becki. “Ted Martin. You’re the new instructor?”

Becki smiled politely as she shook his hand. “Working with David and the instructors.”

“Awesome. You’ll be at the gala next weekend, I assume?”

She nodded. “I’ll be there.”

Ted stepped back with a smile. “That’s great. Hope you’re enjoying Banff. We’ll see
you around.”

He spun on his heel and trotted back to the team. Marcus took advantage of the moment,
and they escaped, not stopping until they were seated in his truck.

Becki twisted to face him. “That was . . .”

“. . . really weird. Yeah. I wonder what he’s up to?” Ted knew better than to try
to get Marcus to do a real interview, but that meet-and-greet had been strange. Marcus
drove in silence, both he and Becki deep in their own thoughts.

* * *

She followed him into the house. After the disappointment of the failed start of training,
they’d fallen into so much fun teasing each other on the scramble. She’d lost sight
of that while distracted by the reporter.

Damn her brain for doing a yo-yo anyway.

She dropped her bag by the door. “You have any chocolate?”

Marcus laughed. “Is this a trick question?”

“It’s being asked by a frustrated female. I’d call it an important question to answer
quickly.”

He caught her by the shoulder, rubbing the tight muscles. “What if I can relax you
another way?”

“I suppose that means you have no chocolate.”

“Right. Guy pad. I have beer. . . .”

She twisted to face him, longing for something to change. “I enjoyed training. Sorry
for being such a wet blanket at the end. I don’t like reporters.”

“Hey, I get it. Trust me.” He cupped her chin in his hand and stroked his thumb over
her cheek. “Offer still stands. You want me to help you relax?”

What did she want? She went for honest.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to decide. I don’t want to have to think. I want to . . .
not be in charge right now.”

His eyes flashed hot, and she swallowed hard as the lusts inside that had faded roared
to full strength.

He nodded. “If that’s what you want, then I can definitely help you with that.”

He led her down the hall, this time to the master bath. She’d been in there briefly
to shower, glancing longingly at the oversized soaker tub.

Now he stopped beside it and reached for her.

She stood motionless as he stroked his hand down her body, the sensation sparking
her senses and helping the anxiety to fall away. “You have such a decadent house.
Hot tub outside, Jacuzzi in here. Shower big enough for two.”

“I like my comforts. Take off your clothes.”

She stripped as he twisted the taps and filled the tub, holding her hand and helping
her step into the water. Becki sighed as heat enveloped her, cocooning her in soft
pleasure. Marcus arranged her in the bath, laying her back and lifting her arms to
rest along the ledges.

“Wait right here.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, then paced away. She watched him
go, admiration for his willingness to care for her overriding the lust she had for
his ass.

She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the heat. At times it seemed she was always
cold—a chill lingering in her body from the accident that clung to her soul like icicles.
Here she felt safe, warmth trickling in not just from his actions and the sexual heat
between them.

She didn’t know everything about Marcus, but she trusted him. Completely.

A sweet rich scent filled her nostrils, and she glanced up to find he’d returned.
He sprinkled something around her, kneeling to put the tin aside and stir the water’s
surface with his fingertips. A flowery aroma with tones of fruit surrounded her.

“What is that?”

Marcus leaned back, his hand still dangling over her. “Tea.”

She laughed. “No way.”

He shrugged. “The magic works on the outside as well as when you drink it. Now close
your eyes and let me take care of you.

Maybe she was being selfish, but she totally loved every minute of what followed.
He washed her, reaching into the water to touch and caress all of her. Slow, seductive
motions. Thorough and yet brief. He didn’t linger as he stroked her breasts, took
as long to wash her arms as the folds of her labia. But by the time he was done, she
was both boneless with relaxation and buzzing with desire.

He helped her stand and walked her to the shower to wash away the fine bits of tea
that still clung to her skin.