High Risk (20 page)

“Meow.”

She smacked him on the shoulder as she slipped past toward the kitchen. Something
bubbled inside, between her mental delight and physical satisfaction.

She’d remembered. Holy cow, so incredible.

Marcus came and directed traffic as they put together sandwiches and soup. A simple
task, which was good because she was distracted sharing the bits she’d seen.

She’d barely finished when he pulled the pickle jar from her fingers and stole one.
“Does everything you told me line up with what the rescue crew reported?”

“Pretty much. I don’t think I’m remembering a told memory, though. There were too
many details that weren’t mentioned. Like the colour of the girls’ jackets, and where
we met the first team of searchers.”

Marcus nodded. “It does sound promising.”

Becki carried their plates to the table. “Doesn’t tell me anything more about what
happened to Dane.”

“Give it time.” He held her chair, then sat. He stared across at her for a moment.

“What?”

Marcus coughed. “Tell me honestly. Was that too soon to break out the ropes?”

She couldn’t stop her smile. “We’re climbers. I’m surprised we didn’t start with ropes.”

“I’m serious.”

He looked so grave and solemn that she laid her hand on his arm. Was it too soon?
She made herself pause. Pushed away the euphoria of the aftermath, concentrated instead
on the actual sex. On being with Marcus.

Only a few days before she’d been unresolved about getting over Dane. Why had moving
forward with Marcus felt so right?

She spoke slowly. “I think we’re in a strange situation. Someone looking in might
see things as going fast, but we didn’t start this relationship at zero. We’ve got
a history, even though it was a long time ago. And maybe some of the things we’ve
got in common make us click.”

Marcus stroked her arm, his strong fingers squeezing hers briefly. “Good. I’m not
asking because I don’t think it was right, but I want to make sure I wasn’t off in
left field.”

“Baseball analogies now. Fine, then, you knocked it out of the park.” His mouth twisted
up into the smile that made her want to stop talking and start all over again with
the sexing. “But thank you for checking. It’s one of the reasons I trust you.”

He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs toward her and casually tangling
their limbs together. “Plans for the rest of the day?”

“Want to go for a walk?”

Marcus glanced out the window and grimaced. “In the rain?”

She shrugged. “We won’t melt. I should get back to the dorms afterward anyway.”

He nodded, busying himself cleaning their dishes. Becki stared at the rain marks trickling
down the window and wondered how long it would take before she learned everything
that was missing. Wondered if as the memories returned she’d be able to face the wall
again without having heart palpitations at the thought of doing an actual climb.

Marcus loaded her bag into her car, and they drove in separate vehicles to the trailhead
of Lake Minnewanka.

It was only after they were thoroughly soaked and she was back in her dorm room alone
that she realized he’d been strangely quiet all afternoon. They’d discussed local
climbing routes and trips they’d enjoyed, but she’d probably done the lion’s share
of the talking.

Becki pulled a few sheets of paper from the desk and took notes about the new things
she’d remembered about the accident, but writing the details down didn’t give her
as much satisfaction as she expected.

Frustrated, she collapsed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, flipping through
all the reasons for the sudden itch under her skin, and it hit her. What she wanted
was to be seated in the same room as Marcus. They didn’t have to be talking, or fooling
around. Just there. She wanted to be able to look at him and have him smile back at
her before he returned to whatever task he was working on.

The realization simultaneously pissed her off and made her wonder.

CHAPTER
22

The dreams returned that night, leaving her confused and bewildered. Small teasers
into what might have happened plus the new play-by-play all mixed together and shook
her until she once again woke in a cold sweat.

There wasn’t enough coffee to deal with a morning like this. She stirred the dark
liquid again and again, wondering where the line was between being pleased that her
memories kept moving forward, and being scared to death.

Her phone rang—and the way she reacted to the tone she’d assigned to Marcus emphasized
how much she’d appreciated having his comforting touch the previous time she’d had
a nightmare.

Stupid reactions. She was a grown woman. He couldn’t hold her hand all the time. Time
to distract herself and redeem the rest of the day. “Morning, Marcus. What evil things
have you devised for your team today?” she asked.

He sighed wearily. “I’m so misunderstood.”

“Right.” She could picture him leaning back in his chair, long legs stretched out
as he grinned at her. “I’m not feeling the sincerity in that.”

“You should talk. I read your training plans for them for the coming week. I’m going
to lose my Evil Lord title to you by Wednesday. Hey—you had self-rescue on the list
for today. Interested in taking the crew to the Cliffs of Insanity for that exercise
instead of using the wall?”

“Really? That would be perfect, only I wasn’t going to make them hike that far since
they’re doing other conditioning already.”

“We’ll do a drop. Erin is flying patterns, and hovering in that area is good for her.”

A rush of absolute terror stopped Becki from being able to answer right away. He expected
her to rappel to the training area. She stared out the window and attempted to keep
the little coffee she’d swallowed from coming up on her.

“Becki? You still there?”

“Just, I don’t think I can do that, not yet, Marcus. The wall would be better.”

His confusion was clear. “You can’t do what?”

The words came out broken as she whispered, “Rappel from the chopper.”

“Oh God, no, Becki. I didn’t mean you.” His deep voice soothed her even as her heart
continued to race. “Erin will land the bird so you and I can hop out. Yes, you’d have
to feel comfortable getting in the beast, but I thought you should be okay in the
cargo bay. If you’re game.”

Becki took a deep breath. “Okay. Yes, I think I can handle that. Sorry for panicking.”

“I should have been clearer,” he apologized. “I’ll come and pick you up in an hour
to hit the shop. We’ll gather equipment there.”

She promised to be ready and hung up, the phone dangling from her fingertips as she
leaned her head against the cold glass and looked over the grey day, wondering if
this was a really bad move, or if it would end up simply being another step on her
way to full recovery.

One thing was certain. There was nothing wrong with her hormones. Other than they
were still trigger-happy anytime she got around Marcus. He pulled to the curb and
hopped out, grabbing her gear bag and tossing it in the back. She wavered on her feet
before choosing to ignore the urge to steal a kiss, instead yanking open the door
and crawling into the passenger seat.

Marcus checked her out slowly before closing the door for her. She focused forward,
fingers locked together, nervous about the upcoming chopper trip, confused by how
awkward she felt being with him and not sure what stage of affection to show.

The ten-minute ride to the field was far quieter than she’d expected.

The silence that had surrounded them as he drove was only made more shocking when
contrasted with the high volume of voices and shouting they discovered in the storage
bay. Becki leaned against the wall out of the way of the action and simply observed
as the team pulled together the equipment Tripp called out.

It was loud and wild and totally good-natured, and some of the edge eased from her
soul. Maybe the sleeplessness of the night before had affected her more than she’d
imagined.

She went through her own gear bag, double-checking that she had all the required equipment.
Even if she wasn’t able to climb, she wanted to be sure to have the supplies to make
examples. Short lengths of lightweight cording, neatly coiled and tied off. Extra
carabiners, tape. Her knife.

She slipped to the side where there was an open table and smiled at Devon, who was
working in that area.

“Got room for me?”

“No problem.” He indicated her gear. “By the way, let me know if you need anything—I’m
cutting ropes this afternoon and can get you new lengths to order.”

She nodded. “Thanks, I’ll let you know.”

Across the room, Xavier and Tripp continued to shout at each other. Erin wandered
through the doorway, fully suited up, and waved at Becki. Marcus supervised and stepped
in as needed.

The rush and excitement of the preparations made her ache to be back on active duty
and stirred up the sense of loss all over again.

Alisha zipped a bag and tossed it to the pile of prepared gear. She wore a most indignant
expression as she slapped her hands clean, her gaze focused on Devon. The sight of
the small blonde stomping across the room toward them had to mean trouble. Becki poked
Devon in the side, then tilted her head as a warning. Devon turned in time to discover
Alisha glaring at him.

“Did you have a nice day yesterday?” she demanded.

“Um, yesterday? I guess so.” Devon frowned. “Was pretty laid back.”

“Good to hear it wasn’t any trouble. I thought maybe it was too challenging, you know,
keeping track of details. Little things like mentioning to all your teammates when
you make a scheduling change.”

Devon wrinkled his nose sheepishly. “Oh, that.”

Alisha shoved up to Devon and got right in his face, which was pretty impressive considering
she was a good foot shorter than him. “Yes, that. Imagine my surprise when I called
the paper this morning to ask a simple question and discovered the interview already
happened. Didn’t want me around? Jerk.”

Uh-oh.
That was what the guys had been talking about the day before. Becki wondered how
Devon was going to explain this one.

“Alisha.” Devon patted her shoulder. “It’s not like that—”

“Don’t bother with the excuses.” She twisted her way out from under his touch, crossing
her arms and lifting her chin in defiance. “I wasn’t interested in taking part anyway,
but you’re still a jerk.”

Alisha spun on her heel and slipped away. Devon stared after her with something near
hopeless adoration on his face. There was a good chance Erin had been right about
Alisha and Devon being attracted to each other, at least on Devon’s part.

“Your trick backfire?” Becki asked, stepping in closer so she could speak without
being overheard.

He shook himself alert and glanced in her direction. “What’s that? Oh, yeah. Well,
it wasn’t really a trick.” Devon examined the area, but no one was looking their way.
“Ted was shooting off his mouth the other day about what a hot bod Alisha had, and
it was right after that when the idea of bringing a cameraman along became a part
of the interview.”

Good grief. “Where did you hear . . . ?” No. Lecturing Devon was not a part of her
responsibilities. Only, it was, now that she’d been working with them. “Clearly, changing
plans to protect Alisha from the big bad wolves without her knowledge isn’t the way
to earn brownie points.”

Devon nodded slowly, watching Alisha as she carried the supplies out the door to the
chopper. “Obviously. Only Ted didn’t really do anything wrong, and it’s not like I
have the right to say anything.”

God, it was like being back in middle school again. She wanted to fluff his hair,
he was so damn cute. “Well, if you’re going to get the girl, you’re going to have
to work a little harder now, aren’t you?”

Devon blinked in surprise. “Get the girl? . . . Oh.”

Becki snorted. “If you’re trying to hide your interest in Alisha, you’re doing it
wrong.”

Devon flashed his hundred-watt smile, and she wondered why Alisha seemed to be trying
to avoid him. He was somewhat addictive, if you liked them sweet.

Marcus stepped back into the building, and the rush of hormones that hit clearly indicated
her tastes ran much more to the savoury. The dark and dangerous. He didn’t walk, he
prowled, and every nerve tingled in response, which was both lovely and frightening.

He stopped by her side and looked her over carefully. “You ready for this?”

Another shudder of upset roiled through her stomach, and she fought to keep it under
control. Maybe her current case of nerves had nothing to do with the sexual tension
between them. “I think so.”

Becki turned toward the chopper and took a deep breath.

* * *

She could have been climbing the gallows for how enthusiastically she moved. Marcus
glanced around the passenger seats to double-check that all the team were ready before
crawling into the back with Becki.

They found their places in the smaller jump seats, the space around them dark and
windowless. It didn’t do much good for his nerves, but this wasn’t about him, but
about Becki and helping her take the next step. She buckled in, and he managed his
own straps, both of them reaching for the headsets hanging on the wall.

The solid hum of the props was blocked by the headset he slipped on, clicking the
transceiver to channel two. He held up his fingers to indicate the number to Becki.
She clicked her own button before catching hold of the chest straps and white-knuckling
them.

“The rest of the team is on channel four. I told them to stay off this line. You need
anything, let me know.”

She nodded rapidly even as she attempted to slow her breathing through her nose, lips
sealed into a thin line.

Marcus cursed the fates that had taken this woman and torn her apart so hard. The
fear in her eyes and the tension in her body—she hadn’t done anything to deserve the
torment, and he wanted so badly to make it better. To take the fear from her.

All he could do was be there as much as she allowed him, and staying behind the limits
she seemed to have built in the past day was killing him.

“Okay to go?” Marcus laid his hand on her thigh. He didn’t know if she needed it,
but he damn well did.

Becki’s head snapped up, her gaze darting off whatever point on which she’d focused
on the ground, and she nodded agreement, still without speaking.

Terror hovered in her eyes, and he nearly called the entire trip off. She must have
seen what he planned, or sensed it. Becki slapped at her speaker button and shakily
answered him. “Ready for takeoff.”

Maybe her voice was unsteady, but her expression dared him to do anything but let
her try. He signaled Erin to go ahead, his gaze focused intently on Becki.

He’d abort the lift in a second if needed.

The buzz of the props increased even through the protective headset. Becki swallowed
hard but otherwise didn’t move as the pressure changed and the floor beneath them
angled slightly as Erin took them skyward.

Becki’s nostrils flared as she breathed in, eyes closing. Under his hand her leg quivered,
and he squeezed lightly.

She caught hold of his fingers, and his heart leapt. Her firm grip remained for about
a twenty count as he breathed with her. Willing her to be able to take the trip. Praying
for her to be able to get back the control she so wanted.

It took five minutes before anything changed. Her eyes remained squeezed shut, but
her death grip loosened. Marcus breathed easier. With every moment that passed, they
got closer to the drop site. If they could get off the chopper without her having
a panic attack, it would make the next time that much smoother.

At least that was what he’d found. Success bred success.

The helicopter shook briefly, probably caught in an eddy around one of the mountains,
and Marcus cursed as Becki choked. She scrambled for the bag he’d discreetly tucked
beside her and lost her breakfast.

The override broke through his headset as Erin spoke. “Sorry, boss, the cross turbulence
caught me by surprise. How bad was it back there?”

Becki was white-faced and shaking, clinging to the arms of her chair with the bag
propped between her legs. She looked miserable, but she wasn’t screaming in terror.

“Estimated time to arrival?” he demanded.

“Ten minutes to hover site,” Erin snapped back.

“Put us down first, then you can lift and do the drops for the crew.”

“Shit. Affirmative.” Erin clicked on briefly. “Sorry.”

Marcus tapped Becki on the back of her hand with the hankie he’d stuck in his pocket
in case of this event. She clutched it and, to his amazement, smiled slightly. She
wiped her mouth, grimacing the entire time.

When she clicked the intercom, the disgust in her voice was clear. “You got any water?”

He pointed beside her seat. She leaned over warily and snatched up a bottle, rinsing
and spitting the first couple of mouthfuls into the bag before gingerly rolling the
top and tucking it aside.