Vivian Arend - High Passion

All the while she waited for the bomb to fall—for the moment when he’d turn into her father’s mouthpiece and start asking about her return plans for the following summer.

When it finally came it was almost anticlimactic.

“I have a friend who is selling his condo.” Vincent paused as the waiters whisked away their appetizer plates and brought a soup course. “It’s in a fabulous location, and I thought of you. I know you won’t need a place for a number of months, but it would make sense to buy now in anticipation of your return.”

Alisha shook her head. “You’re working under a false assumption, Vincent. I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I have no intention of returning anytime soon. I have a wonderful job and a great career here in the mountains that I love. It’s valuable work, being the best search-and-rescuer I can be.” Her enthusiasm rang out strong. “It’s thrilling to make a difference in people’s lives.”

“I understand that.” Vincent slipped his chair closer, and she twitched in her seat. “I’ve always known how much this mattered to you. It’s why I didn’t fight it when you announced you wanted to go away to school.”

Why would he have fought it? “It wasn’t any of your concern, not then, not now.”

Vincent leaned in. “Of course it is. After all, I was the one who convinced your father to give you the time to yourself.”

His cheek was close to hers, but without tilting so far to the side that she’d fall out of her seat, there was no chance to retreat. Besides, she was still trying to make heads or tails of his last comment. “You convinced my father . . . of what ?”

“I suggested there was no harm in your coming to the school here in Banff. That a chance to try something different would do you good, perhaps help you work your unhappiness out of your system. You’ve done well during your time away, and I’m very proud you—I even gave a donation to your school to prove how much I respect what you’ve done. Only now it’s time for you to make plans to move on. Put this childishness behind you, and return to where you belong.”

Her shock at one part of that announcement made it tough to comprehend the rest of what he’d said. “You gave what ?”

Vincent smiled, obviously pleased with himself. “They supported you while you spread your wings, but now that it’s time for you to return home—”

“I’m not a bloody pigeon you can call home to the roost.” It hadn’t been her father, but Vincent who’d interfered? Anger replaced her confusion. “This is my life, Vincent. You had no right to try to organize, or suggest, or do anything in it.”

“I was giving you a chance to have time to yourself. Five years wasn’t a long time to wait in the big picture.” He stroked the silky fabric covering her arms, the back of his knuckles causing a warning shiver to race along her spine. “Five years to sow your wild oats before returning to where you belong. Although I do hope you haven’t taken the old interpretation of that phrase too literally.”

Around them the tinkle of wineglasses and gold flatware on china plates combined with the live piano music playing delicately in the corner of the room. Waiters stood at discreet intervals, but she couldn’t seem to catch one’s eye with the invitation to interrupt, and soon.

She and Vincent must have looked far too intimate to interrupt, which was so not what she wanted.

This entire conversation was off the tracks and headed for a cliff, and she’d had enough. Alisha lifted her chin and went for broke to regain control. “It’s none of your business if I’ve fucked my way through half of Banff. I am not going back in a year’s time. I have a home here. I have a job. I . . . have a boyfriend.”

Tossing the lie out was reckless and wrong, but it felt necessary.

Her fib partially worked. For the first time since the evening had begun, Vincent retreated.

“You do? One of your co-workers, perhaps?” Vincent poured her more wine, settling back in his chair.

“Again, none of your business.” Alisha hauled in the last dregs of politeness she could in one final attempt to halt the confusion between them. “Vincent, I feel as if you’ve gotten the mistaken idea that you and I are some kind of couple, or headed that way in the future. I’m not interested in a relationship with you other than as a family friend. I came out with you tonight to be polite. Now that this conversation has crossed into far too personal territory, it’s time to stop.”

Her outburst took him by surprise, and he seemed to reconsider, taking time to look around the room as he rearranged silverware and fussed with his place setting. Another change of plates occurred, their main courses arriving. Alisha calculated how much longer she needed to stay, or if they had reached the point where she could simply get up and leave.

Vincent’s long sigh kept her in place for another moment. He nodded slowly before carefully lowering his voice. “I had planned on waiting until you returned because I didn’t want to burden you, but if you truly are planning on staying in Banff, you’ve left me no choice than to broach this now. I’m worried about your father.”

She blinked, but the puzzle pieces refused to fall in the right direction. “What does me staying in Banff have to do with my father?”

Vincent cut into his steak, the edge of the blade slicing through the thick flesh smoothly, red-tinged juices rushing from the cut. “You know your father has controlling interest of Bailey Enterprises. He’s been making unwise decisions lately, Alisha. I’m concerned for the future of the company. If he continues this way he’ll end up destroying everything he’s worked so hard to achieve.”

Well, not a way to motivate her to change her plans. “So?”

He pulled back in undisguised shock. “Your father could lose everything. You couldn’t possibly want that.”

“I couldn’t care less.” Her father had done the cutting off up to now, not her. “I have a roof over my head, and a job. I don’t need the millions that seem to be all that keeps him happy. If he can’t make the right business decisions, then he’ll have to lose it all.”

Vincent’s jaw hung open for a second before he pulled himself together. “Those are the words of an ungrateful little girl.”

She shrugged. “While I’m thankful for the benefits I received from my family when I was young, since I left home everything I’ve done has been on my own merits. Calling me ungrateful isn’t a threat.”

His dark eyes flashed, this time with something more like anger, and Alisha paused as she realized if the company failed, her father wouldn’t be the only one to lose.

“Oh, Vincent. I’m sorry. I didn’t even consider the impact Bailey Enterprises going under would have on you. You’re serious? It’s gotten that bad?”

He nodded. “Within the year if his mismanagement continues.”

While Alisha still wasn’t highly motivated to do anything, it was a lot tougher to simply blurt that out when one of the people whose livelihood was threatened by her father’s supposed incompetence was right there in front of her.

She tried to sound sympathetic. “I don’t see what difference I could make, Vincent, going back to Toronto. My father does have the majority of shares, and he’s not about to ask my advice in running the company even if I do return.”

Vincent gave her an earnest look. “If you add my shares to yours we have more than him.”

Alisha laughed. “What shares? Maybe you didn’t hear the news, but I don’t get my shares until I’m thirty-five. I would willingly sell them to you—I have no interest in running the company—but that antiquated requirement in my grandfather’s will means you’ll have to wait nine years before I can access them.”