Vivian Arend - High Passion

By keeping her secret, he’d put himself into a compromising position. He could only hope her reasons were something he could live with down the road.

Only feet from the top of the crevasse Anders extended a hand, and she grasped it eagerly. The warmth of his fingers was as welcome as the smile on his face.

“Good grief, what were you two doing down there? Mud wrestling?” Xavier stepped up, dropping a blanket over her shoulders. “Let me untie you.”

“Devon?” Alisha twisted toward the cliff lip, but Xavier held her in place.

“Anders will get him. The other SAR team is dealing with the injured, and Paul checked out fine. You’re soaked, though, so we need to help you before you have a reaction.” Xavier loosened the rope at her waist as the chill in her bones shook her. “Yeah, like that.”

“I’m cold.” Admitting that was as far as she wanted to go right now.

“Come on, lean on me and I’ll get you to your spare gear.” Xavier looped an arm around her and guided her toward the chopper.

She hovered between reality and a dream. Fear threatened to overwhelm her as she remembered the water surrounding her and Devon. Then the ensuing adrenaline rush stopped her from going catatonic again.

She didn’t want her breakdown to be revealed, and only the terror of being discovered would give her enough strength to get through the next hours without giving herself away.

“You need me to give you something?” Xavier asked.

The man with the chemicals. God, asking for a sedative was out of the question, but could she ever use one right now. That, or a shot of whiskey straight up.

Hmmm. “You got your flask?”

“Shhh.” Xavier glanced around sheepishly. “That’s strictly for medicinal purposes.”

Her teeth chattered. “I think this counts.”

Erin wasn’t at the chopper, so Xavier helped her into the transport area, standing her directly under the heater, which he cranked to high. “Strip, and I’ll get your gear bag from the back.”

She fumbled with the straps on her harness, fighting to unthread the thick webbing from the metal hoops. Either the fabric had swollen with the river water or she’d lost more dexterity than she’d thought, because nothing seemed to be cooperating.

Familiar hands pushed her fingers away, tugging the harness free far too easily and mocking her. She shivered in place and refused to look up. She didn’t want to see the accusation in Devon’s eyes.

“You need to get changed, too. I can take care of myself,” Alisha insisted.

“Hush.” Devon stripped away the final buckle holding her harness in place. “We’re a team. We help each other as needed.”

God, she was so going to lose it if he kept up being all supportive and understanding. It was easier when he’d flashed his disapproval. His anger. Those emotions she could deal with far better than his disappointment.

She peeked up to make sure they were alone. “I’m sorry.”

Devon pulled his sweater over his head and tossed it aside. “Save it for later.”

“Just—”

“Later, Alisha, unless you want everyone to know.”

Damn, she was out of control. He was right. She pulled off her outer layers, adding them to the pile at their feet. Heat poured from above, but it was another sort of heat that filled her now. No challenge against the cold in her extremities, but washing her face with heat and starting a pulse deep inside.

He was down to bare skin from the waist up, goose bumps on his chest as he rubbed a towel briskly over his torso and head. Alisha couldn’t stop staring, fascinated as he left the towel draped over his shoulders and reached for the button at his waist.

Something had to have warned him because he stopped, button open, zipper halfway down. He glanced up and their gazes connected.

Devon swore, then closed the gap between them. She didn’t think he was going to do what she wanted, which was press her to the wall and kiss her senseless. Kiss her until all the fear was so far gone that she’d never have to face it again.

No, she didn’t think he’d do that, but she’d certainly never imagined he’d grab her shirt and strip it off her.

Alisha crossed her arms over her chest instinctively.

Devon laughed. “No modesty around here. Get out of the rest of your wet things. Xavier will be back in a second with our dry clothes.”

“Xavier is back, dry clothes in hand. You two need help?”

“Alisha does,” Devon responded before she could issue a denial.

Xavier was by her side in a flash, her spare clothing bag set on the bench. He knelt at her feet, untying laces and pulling her boots and socks from her one foot at a time. “I’m a professional. You can consider me like a doctor. You don’t have to be shy.”

“You pervert. You just want to see m-m-me naked,” Alisha stuttered through chattering teeth.

He lifted his head and waggled his brows.

Good grief. “If I weren’t so damn cold I’d d-do a striptease f-for you.”

“Now that I want to see.” Xavier turned her to face the back of the chopper, unhooking her bra and stripping off her pants with barely any effort. He had the blanket around her shoulders without making it apparent he’d seen her naked at all. “But since I’m a gentleman and all, I suggest the next time you want to go swimming you do it in the pool, or wear a wetsuit.”

With the cold, soaking clothes removed and the furnace blasting overhead, Alisha at least wasn’t getting any colder. “Thanks, Xav.”

“No problem.”

More voices joined in—Erin at the chopper door, Anders returning to the transport area and tossing up gear bags. He glanced around. “You guys stay here. I can grab the rest of the shit in a couple trips, and we can be headed home.”

“I’ll join you,” Xavier offered. “Well done, everyone. Erin, let Tripp know we can leave within the next thirty.”

“Got it.”

Through it all Alisha worked slowly. Precisely. Pulling on dry clothing one article at a time. With a towel wrapped around her head she sat in her flight chair and dealt with socks and shoes. Beside her Devon had done the same. Flashes of firm muscles covered without false modesty, but no lingering over more sexual possibilities. The two of them had basically been side by side and naked, but this time he stayed silent, none of the usual teasing that would have accompanied such an event in the past.

Even the heater blasting overhead couldn’t stop the shiver that took her.

Devon knelt in front of her. He caught her chin in his firm grasp. He refused to let her look away as he examined her. He checked her eyes, brushed a hand over her forehead. Alisha met his gaze steadily, the terror that had grasped her gone.

He darted a glance away, but there was no one near to hear.

“Tell me you’re okay,” he said. “Promise me I don’t need to worry about you going into shock on the ride home.”

Could she guarantee that? Alisha dug deep and assessed herself as best she could. Fear wouldn’t stupefy her anymore, not unless Erin flew them into a lake or something insane. Fear of her team finding out she’d panicked—that would keep her from saying anything reckless.

“I’m really cold right now. That’s all.”

“Me, too. We should probably share body heat. That would be the most effective cure, you know.”

Her tongue wasn’t working—whether he’d intended it or not, his words were an effective distraction. The wink he gave her a second before rising to grab blankets from the storage cupboard made her heart skip.

That was when she spotted Anders in the doorway, him and Xavier back with the rest of the gear.

So that was how they were going to play it. “Yeah, right. You’re as cold as I am. No way am I cuddling with you. Xavier now, I bet he knows how to warm a girl.”