Vivian Arend - High Passion

Alisha jerked herself upright, blinking to change the mental paths she’d started down. She tucked the blanket around her shoulders and faced him straight on. “Sorry, I’m nearly falling asleep and that doesn’t help matters.”

He examined her again, an intense gaze that seemed to dive into her soul. “One step at a time, Alisha. This isn’t a moment we need to rush into anything.”

Patience. The first of the team rules. “Right. You’re right.”

He laughed, following her into the kitchen with the dirty dishes. “I’m going to assume you have a concussion, or are seriously injured, if you keep agreeing with me so easily.”

She pushed him from the room. “I’ll deal with those later. I should let you go.”

“Still waiting to hear if you think you have any triggers that caused your attack in the first place,” Devon reminded her. “You were fine during our years at Banff Search and Rescue. I seem to remember doing open-water training a few times, and you never had any issues.”

They’d gone over this. “I don’t know of any. I mean, when I was little I had nightmares about the dark, but that’s kid stuff.”

He paced away, over to the window, and stared out for a while. When he turned he looked more impressed than pissed off. “Well, it was dark down there.”

She nodded.

“Are you afraid of the dark now?”

A shrug was her only possible response. “No more than the average person. If I hear strange noises at night, sure, but otherwise, it’s not as if I sleep with a night light or anything.”

“Maybe this isn’t as big a deal as we think.”

Now that was an unexpected outlook. Alisha moved closer. “Really?”

He held up a hand. “Now, I’m not saying you’re scot-free, or that I’m not still pissed off as hell, but there was a lot going on today. Maybe it was a bad combination.”

“I don’t think—”

He laughed. “How come all of a sudden I’m the one reassuring you everything will be fine? Today was enough to freak anyone out, Alisha.”

She stood motionless, now shocked for new reasons. “I am surprised. I thought for sure I’d have to tie you up and hide you in the attic crawl space so I could keep my job.”

He raised a brow. “Tying me up? We are getting somewhere. You never told me you had those kinds of fantasies. I would have loved to know that sooner.”

Her mouth went absolutely dry, not only because he’d gone there, but because the idea of tying him up and getting to take advantage of him was a hot dream she’d partially had once.

Devon hooted with laughter. “God, you should see your face. No, Alisha, I’m not really propositioning you. At least not right now. You’re dead on your feet, and I’m still cold from the rescue. I’ll save the seduction for later.”

He didn’t seem to think she was psychotic anymore. She could tell by the way he was back to his normal, flirtatious self. “You’re being way too reasonable.”

“I now have food in my stomach. Does wonders for the average male.”

She had to smile. “We’ll play Test Alisha’s Limits tomorrow?”

“Sure thing.” He paced across the room, and suddenly she was wrapped in a firm hug. Nothing sexual or demanding, just a forceful, breath-squeezing embrace that he ended within a couple of seconds when there was a loud knock on her door. He grinned as he stepped back. “I’ll sneak out of your way for a minute.”

He ducked into the kitchen. Alisha stood for a moment, amazed at the turn of events. Things were going to work out fine. Miracle of miracles.

She peered around the edge of the door before opening it. The glass she held in her hands fell unminded to the floor. The plastic bounced once and rolled toward the kitchen, but she ignored it, far more disturbed by the man standing on the stoop.

So much for her day taking a turn for the better.

It wasn’t proper to eavesdrop, but Devon didn’t care about niceties at the moment. Her gasp of surprise had stopped him at the kitchen door and swung him into the small entrance to stand at her side.

“Problem? You got a collection agency tracking you down or something?”

“I wish,” she muttered. “Just, don’t be rude to him. But don’t be too nice, either, okay?”

What the hell kind of comment was that? Curiosity rose in a flash, but he stepped back as she swung the door open to reveal a dark-haired businessman in an outfit that probably cost as much as Devon’s truck. Maybe midthirties, the stranger smiled at Alisha and reached to give her a hug, pulling to a stop when he noticed Devon.

“Vincent. What are you doing here?” The genuine shock in her voice matched the shock on the man’s face at seeing Devon standing next to her.

The devil on his shoulder made him move in a tiny bit closer, just to jerk the guy’s chain, whoever he was.

Vincent dragged his attention back to Alisha and adjusted his expression, but it was too late for any of them to not have noticed his astonishment. “Hello, sweetheart. I came to surprise you.”

Sweetheart? Fuck. Devon backed out of the way as Vincent strode forward.

“Well, I’m surprised. Very,” Alisha admitted. “You didn’t think you should call, or let me know you were in town?”

“That’s what a surprise usually means.” Vincent loosened off his jacket, turning to take in Devon. “And you are?”

“I work with Devon,” Alisha cut in, slipping between them and tugging Vincent toward the living space. “We did a rescue this morning and needed to grab some food to refuel. He was just leaving.”

Oh, really ? Devon didn’t remember that part of the conversation. “I don’t mind staying.” He extended his hand toward the other man, waiting to see what response he’d get. “Devon Leblanc. And you are Vincent . . . ?”

From that little sweetheart comment, this wasn’t an insurance adjuster for Alisha, or something.

“Vincent Monreal. Old friend of the family.”

Alisha cringed, her face tight in a grimace. Aha , someone who actually knew the elusive Bailey family? Wild horses couldn’t drag Devon away now. Not to mention there was unfinished business between him and Alisha. They had to spend time together to check that she was clear for duty, and he wanted the first time slot nailed in place before he left.

“Can I get you anything, Vincent? A drink, something to eat?” Maybe it was out of line, but Vincent pushed all his buttons. Acting as if he knew his way around Alisha’s place a hell of a lot better than he did seemed the right thing to do.

Alisha gave him a dirty look behind Vincent’s back and tilted her head toward the door. “Devon, you should go. I’ll call you later to go over . . . the training schedule.”

Good try. He got ready to argue—nicely, of course—when Alisha’s expression switched to pleading.

Damn it all.

Fine, he wouldn’t stick around when she obviously wanted to be alone with Vincent . “Don’t forget we have a session first thing in the morning.”

They didn’t, but this Vincent dude didn’t know it, and like hell would Devon let the situation drag on even if Alisha now had a guy in the picture. Or in the picture for the first time ever, as far as he knew.

She picked up on his clues and nodded. “At the pool, right?”

Vincent watched them like a hawk, his coat now draped over a chair back and his suit jacket undone.

The man was wearing a goddamn suit and tie in Banff, for fuck’s sake.

Devon had no idea why he was sticking around. Anger and frustration made him lash out the only way he could think of on the spur of the moment. If she’d planned on a lovely relaxing morning sleep-in with Mr. Suit, forget it.