Vivian Arend - High Passion

They were up and out without any further discussion. Like the well-practiced team they were, everyone grabbed gear and moved to the nearest lip of the falls. Devon stepped closer to examine the drop.

Alisha paused as she dug into her bag for extra climbing cams. They were only feet away from the roaring water, the crash ringing in her ears. Her heart rate was elevated, her breathing rapid, but she wasn’t panicking. It was all the emotions and excitement of a rescue, none of the icy-cold terror she’d experienced the last time out.

She rose to her feet and turned to discover Devon loaded with gear, his gaze fixed on her. She nodded and gave him an affirmative again. There was no malice in his examination, and it felt good to know that while he’d keep his word to ensure that the entire team was safe, he hadn’t assumed she’d lose it again.

They moved into position, gazing over the falls. Devon pointed inland. “Trail on the side. Tripp, follow it downstream and report if you spot anything. Alisha and I will check the drops one at a time starting at the top. Xavier, you can follow the edge of the falls along the trail, but stay available for either of us calling you.”

Tripp and Xavier took off as Alisha hooked up the first set point. “You want me to belay you?”

Devon shook his head. “You’re good.”

They tied in again, stopping for yet another of the endless checks to ensure their knots and carabiners were locked. Then Devon surprised the hell out of her by catching hold of her and kissing her briefly, the brows of their helmets clicking together.

“Stay safe.” His words came out rough and off kilter.

Alisha grinned even as the shock of his kiss warmed her. “Bet I can get to the third falls in two jumps.”

He rolled his eyes. “Enough with the bets. I don’t like the looks of the second spray.”

She nodded. “Think something’s caught?’

Devon’s nose wrinkled.

That was the horrid part of the job. When it wasn’t a rescue, but a recovery. She pushed sorrow aside and tightened her ropes in preparation. “On belay.”

“Belay on.”

When she found he’d been right and the second falls were blocked with the broken bow of a canoe, her stomach turned. “Devon, trouble.”

She was roped up, so moving into the current a few paces was safe, but the water crashing from above was too powerful to allow her to get a firm anchor on the wood. Her fingers could just wrap around the gunwale, but no matter how hard she rocked, nothing moved. “I can’t budge it. We’ll have to get Erin overhead so Anders can lower a hook.”

“I’m coming down.”

By the time Devon was ready to join her she’d looked around more and gathered a batch of gear that had washed onto the small rocky edge of the pool.

She finished belaying him and he turned, facing the soggy pile of personal items with sadness in his expression. “It’s not looking good, is it?”

She shook her head.

Tripp’s voice carried on the speakers. “I’m at the base of the falls, and we’ve got a DOA. There’s a half of a broken canoe, and a body in the sweepers on the poolside at the base. They must have gone right the hell over that edge.”

It didn’t look good at their end, either. “Any sign of the second canoe?” Alisha asked.

This time it was Anders who answered. “We’ve got them. There’s a canoe on the shoreline and people waving. Only, sweet mother of God, there’s nowhere to land this baby. We’re coming to get you. Alisha, you’ll have to do a drop to pick these guys up on the cable.”

A short time later they’d returned. Erin placed the chopper over the mangled watercraft and Anders lowered a massive hook. They tipped the canoe and a second body popped free from its trapped position. Devon caught it before it could disappear over the edge of the pool. The red dry bag that had also come loose bobbed a couple of times before vanishing into the foaming water beneath them.

Alisha fought her dismay and soldiered on as they wrapped the body for transport, hooking the harness in place and allowing Anders to winch everything into the chopper.

They returned to the main level of the falls and waited for the cable to descend for their journey up into the bay area.

Devon pulled her aside for a moment, cupping her cheek in his hand. His fingers were cold on her skin and she pressed her fingers over his briefly.

He dipped his chin. “You were amazing. As usual.”

She blinked at the pure passion in his words. “Thank you.”

He tilted his head toward the water. “No problems at any time, right?”

“Nothing to be afraid of—nothing more than usual rescue nerves.”

“I didn’t see you hesitate even once.” He nodded. “I still think we need to get together when we get home to have a deep, thorough discussion of what happens next.”

“Are you asking me for a date, Mr. Leblanc?” Alisha raised a brow. “Because it seems that the issue we thought we had might not be an issue.”

Devon grinned. “We need to confirm you’re not afraid of showers when they contain sexually excited men with an urgent need to ravish you.”

It was wrong in so many ways, and yet equally right. Death’s mark would accompany them as they returned to civilization. Their rush of desire was an indicator of life—of all that they strived to do. Save those they could save, and find peace for those left behind. Alisha didn’t feel as if it were blasphemous or wrong for her and Devon to share the fire in their veins.

To remember and celebrate that they were alive.

They set down on the tarmac outside HQ hours later than he’d have liked, but Devon couldn’t complain. After they’d dropped the rescued victims, and the unfortunate ones who didn’t make it, at the hospital in Radium, they’d crawled into the refueled chopper and headed for home. The extra time had given him the chance to replay the events of the day and come to a happy conclusion.

Alisha had done her customary flawless job. Her freak-out during the previous rescue had obviously been a onetime event, and his long-term concerns faded. Relief was quickly buried by a vigorous compulsion to grab her and kiss her senseless. The furtive glances between them had been growing harder to hide. As if once they’d let their attraction out, they were impatient to experience the fire all over again.

He sure the hell was.

Unpacking the chopper gave them plenty of opportunities to find themselves in close contact. Hips bumping at moments, rubbing past each other in the narrow passage from the storage area into the main transport bunker. Everyone worked quickly, moving to unload gear. Tripp shouted after Anders, then raced down the path toward HQ. Devon grinned as he reversed direction and stalked to the back of the chopper to corner her outside the cargo hold, momentarily alone.

Alisha turned from the bag she’d zipped and gasped slightly, her smile widening as she took in his arms caging her on either side. “Well, it looks as if I’m not taking this equipment anywhere for the next minute or so.”

She caught his face in her hands, kissing him deep and hard, pressing her body against his and rubbing shamelessly. He cupped her ass, lifting her the slight distance it took to line them up properly, his lips never leaving hers.

Excitement welled inside, anticipation at what would come next. It had been only a couple of days, and he was willing to say he’d missed her.

Wanted her like crazy.

One of the chopper doors creaked a warning, and they pulled apart, still grinning like fools.

“You coming home with me?” Devon asked quietly.

“You have a bigger shower than I do,” Alisha pointed out.

The images her comment raised only widened his smile as he snatched up handfuls of gear and headed into the storage rooms.