High Passion

CHAPTER 17

“We’re doing more training on the winch,” Anders announced. He pointed at Erin. “She got a new toy, which means we all have to get in the swing of things.”

Anders grinned harder as Devon groaned with the rest of them at the bad pun.

Nearly a week had passed since Alisha had basically moved in with him, and so far, things seemed to have settled into some positive patterns. Vincent hadn’t shown up in person, and other than one or two politely worded e-mails that were threatening only if you put them into context, he hadn’t interfered.

Alisha was slowly relaxing. They’d done a rescue. When they weren’t recovering from work, the two of them were busy with wild sex. It wasn’t a bad situation.

Marcus leaned on the side table as he went over the order of training for the day. “And when you’re not in the chopper with Erin and Anders, you’ll be on the tower with Becki. She’s agreed to work you over today so I can stay with Erin while she tries her new wings.”

Beside Devon, Alisha had curled her legs under her as she perched on one of the tall stools by the small kitchen counter. She gave her coffee another stir before leaving the spoon and turning with a happy sigh to face the room. “It’s like early Christmas around here with all the new gadgets. Can I try some of the new gear today?”

Marcus nodded. “Sure, just let Lana know what you’re using so we double-check all the gear gets a once-over before we need it in the field. I know a few of you are heading away for Thanksgiving events tomorrow—we’ll do a full run-through on new equipment next week once you’re all back.”

Tripp stepped past Alisha and stole her personalized cup right out of her fingers before she could take a sip, ignoring her complaints as he stepped out of reach and took a long appreciative swallow of the dark liquid. “Hey, how come you get to use the new gear even though you didn’t show up to help unpack?”

His accusing tease took in Devon as well, but Marcus was the one who laughed.

“You didn’t have to show up, you know. Lana was willing to do the work without you. She put in extra hours the last couple of days to get the gear unloaded.”

Behind the desk Lana turned from the filing cabinet to preen. Her ass-kissing had become obvious the last week, maybe because Devon was more conscious of it after having Tripp point it out. All her attention now seemed directed at Marcus. Maybe Lana had given up on the sly approach, but whatever her plans, it seemed Marcus hadn’t noticed.

Only the glance Becki gave the woman proved that Lana’s ploys were known to at least one of the couple. Devon ignored the urge to comment. There were times that keeping his mouth shut would be just as effective, especially if Becki knew what was going on. He didn’t envy the hurt that Lana would have coming her way if she crossed a line in Becki’s opinion.

Becki was more than able to defend her own.

They split into two groups, and Devon was surprised when Lana joined them, climbing gear in hand.

Xavier glanced at Devon behind the woman’s back but hid his displeasure when he spoke. “You doing wall work today?”

Her grin was huge. “Marcus said I should, because then you’ll have two pairs climbing at once.”

“And I agreed. It’s a good idea to mix it up.” Becki stepped into the conversation. “Having consistent partners for climbing is positive for some reasons, but it can make you sloppy. It’s good to have to concentrate and stay aware instead of falling back on familiarity.”

Devon stepped into his harness. It made sense. Still, for some reason the idea of Lana belaying Alisha filled him with dread. He flashed a smile and decided to face Alisha’s potential wrath later. Making sure he was the one stuck with Lana was his first priority. “Well then, can I offer you a lift?”

Lana blinked. “You want to belay me?”

“Love to.” He stepped in closer and checked her harnesses, careful to keep his touch professional, but chatting on the flirty side to ensure she didn’t get any ideas about suggesting to switch partners.

Alisha returned from the storage area with new body harnesses in hand. She eyed Lana and him, one brow sneaking upward. She didn’t say anything, though, just turned to Xavier and flashed him a big smile. “So, big guy, you want to play with me today?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He took one of the harnesses. “This is different.”

“More loops around the back. It’s rated for higher weights. Thought it might be good for winter work when we’ve got sleds to deal with.” She laid the harness on the ground and began a systematic check through all the webbing. Xavier squatted beside her and did the same for the one she’d brought for him.

The exercise was going well, he supposed, as he and Lana followed Becki’s directions and worked the side of the tall tower outside HQ. There were stairs on the interior he’d run a million times during training, but here and now it was the climbing holds on the exterior they focused on.

Around the opposite side of the Lifeline yard, Erin was working her new helicopter, turning it and hovering, moving into position and waiting while Anders lowered Tripp over targets. The sound of the props was constant in Devon’s ears even though they were far enough around the corner to be out of sight most of the time.

He concentrated on the wall. On Lana. On following directions instead of staring at Alisha as she and Xavier laughed and worked the kinks out of the new gear.

Lana climbed well for the most part, but she seemed to have the same trouble as him, her gaze drifting to Alisha and Xavier far more often than it should. When her feet hit the ground after one climb, Devon waved a hand in front of her face. “Hey, they aren’t the ones on the end of your rope.”

She blinked and turned to smile at him, all contrite. “I’m sorry. I’m just . . . curious about the new gear.”

“Stay on task.”

She nodded and focused a bit better for a few minutes before the side-eyed looks started again. Lana was halfway up a climb when Becki stopped beside Devon. “How’re her skills, in your opinion?” she asked quietly.

Devon was honest. “I want Alisha on the end of my line when we’re out in the real world.”

Becki nodded before glancing up. “Lana. You’re following a nice straight path, but you’re using too much arms. Major muscles, remember? You’d blow up too fast on an extended climb at this rate.”

“Okay. I’ll remember,” Lana sang back sweetly, and Devon wanted to gag.

Becki was better than him and kept a straight face. She waited until Lana faced the wall again, then patted him on the back and spoke softly. “Trust me, I want Alisha belaying you.”

She stepped away to work with Alisha and Xavier as Devon hid his grin.

Lana had just landed on the ground when the unusual silence in the air caught his attention. A moment later the speaker on Becki’s hip buzzed with Marcus’s signal. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I steal someone from you?”

Becki frowned even as she signaled for Devon to unclip. “I can give you Devon, but what’s up?”

“Tripp’s not feeling a hundred percent. I’m sending him home, but Erin and Anders need more practice. That requires a body.”

That was where the silence came from—the chopper was grounded. Devon dropped the rope and followed orders, waving at Alisha and Xavier as he jogged toward the main building.

Tripp passed him outside HQ doors en route to a taxi waiting in the yard. “You going to live?” Devon asked.

His teammate’s face was white and he swallowed rapidly. “Stomach flu or something. Hit hard.”

“Damn.” Devon checked the chopper waiting for him. “Do you want me to drive your truck home later?”

Tripp nodded and passed over the keys. “I’d appreciate it. I’m too dizzy to drive—but some of that might be Erin’s fault. She’s got a lot of pendulum happening in the new bird. I think I set a new record for spins per minute.”

Devon laughed as he escorted Tripp to the taxi. “Thanks for the warning. Don’t go getting Jonah sick.”

Tripp made a face. “He probably gave it to me—there’s always one bug or another going around the school.”

Devon’s walkie-talkie squawked. “Anytime, Mr. Leblanc,” Marcus drawled.

“Just tucking Tripp into bed, sir. I’m on my way.” He broke into a jog and headed around the field. He hoped his stomach was ready for whatever twisted routine Erin was about to put him through at the end of the rope.

Alisha sent the e-mail message from Vincent to archives. It was another of the not-creepy-enough-to-be-useful and yet not-ordinary-enough-to-avoid-being-creeped-out variety, and she sighed.

Devon paused at a set of lights. “You’re wearing that face again.”

Alisha took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “I have a face?”

“A Vincent-the-Vamp-is-annoying-me face. What’d he do now, order your bridal gown?”

The light changed and Devon was forced to turn his attention to the road, giving her a chance to consider for a moment. “The last time I showed you one of Vincent’s messages, you taught me new swear words.”

“I’ve matured since then,” Devon quipped. He laid a hand on her thigh and squeezed lightly. “Let me help if you need it, okay?”

Alisha knew that. Needed that. “He pointed out that if I book my flights home now, we’d have time to attend the governor-general’s Christmas ball. He has two tickets and really should RSVP soon.” She didn’t mention that a link to the gown he’d picked out for her was included in the e-mail.

The warmth of his palm on her thigh was reassuring and more as he slipped his hand slightly higher. “You are not required to do what he wants.”

“Nope. You’re right.” She stared out the window at the houses passing them. “And not to change the subject, but this is where your parents live?”

Devon smirked, both hands back on the wheel. “Welcome to the family homestead.”

Sheesh. She caught herself before she pressed her nose to the window to rubberneck at the acreages going past. She hadn’t realized until that moment that there were details missing from what she knew about him as well.

“Devon, hit me for being an idiot, but—ow.” Alisha rubbed her arm where he’d bumped her with the back of his wrist. “I didn’t mean it literally, you jerk.”

“Hey, a lady asks me to spank her, I oblige.” He pulled to a stop at a massive gated entrance, lowering his window to enter the access code.

Alisha was embarrassed now at the visions she’d had about him fighting to find food during school. The starving student and the humble-living search-and-rescue worker were miles away from the enormous home with multiple outbuildings they were approaching down the long driveway. “You forgot to tell me your parents were, what? Cattle barons?”

Devon made a rude noise. “Please. You’re not going to give me shit for not talking about my background, are you? Miss Sphinx?”

“Fine, I deserved that.” She gave in and gawked out the window. “You have horses. Devon, oh my God, you have a whole herd of them in your yard.”

“My parents’ yard. And those are the family rides. I don’t own a horse anymore. It would be hard to stable her in Banff.”

She twisted away from the fascinating sights outside to examine Devon closer. His smooth jaw had tightened in the past few minutes, and this time she was the one who laid her hand on his arm to apologize. “I’m sorry for making assumptions.”

Devon shrugged. “You have no idea.”

He flashed a smile, and her worry eased. “Will you take me riding?”

“Can you ride?”

She gave him a look.

He gave her one back. “Not that fancy bullshit show stuff, but real riding.”

Alisha grinned harder. “Want to see who can finish a course faster? I’m game.”

The suggestion of yet another contest eased the last of the awkwardness that had risen between them, and she slipped her fingers into his until he needed his hand to apply the parking brake.

Devon walked around to open her door, then dragged a hand through his blond hair, leaving it standing every which way. “You don’t have to memorize everyone’s names,” he reminded her. “If you forget, just ask—they’ll be happy to tell you again and again. Don’t accept any babies or small children out of guilt, especially not ones with suspicious scents.”

Alisha laughed, stepping closer and straightening that lock of hair that always drove her crazy. “Relax. I can handle myself. I can handle your family.”

He slipped his arms around her and lowered his head until their lips made contact. “Thank you for joining me.”

She still had her fingers in his hair when the front door swung open, and noise enveloped them.

A deep, firm voice reached them first. “Devon. And Alisha. Welcome.”

Higher-pitched feminine laughter stole out. “You’re interrupting them, Dad.”

“That’s my job,” he insisted as Alisha straightened in embarrassment.

Devon kept a tight hold on her so she was forced to remain tucked against his side. An older version of Devon peered down from the landing, his hands resting on the wheels of his wheelchair.

“It would be politer to greet guests with a drink,” Devon pointed out, escorting Alisha up the stairs to the side of his dad’s chair.

She held out her hand to him. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Leblanc.”

“Please, call me Stewart.” He accepted her hand but didn’t shake it, instead tugging her forward with a wink. “Pretty girls I insist on kissing on the cheek.”

She laughed and leaned over far enough to let him plant one on her. Then she stepped back and watched as Devon shook hands solemnly with the man.

“Good to see you, son.”

“I’m not pretty enough to kiss?” Devon teased.

“You got your kisses, and your lickin’s, when you were younger. Now you’re old enough to shake my hand and pour me a drink.” Stewart eyed him closely. “You did bring wine for dinner?”

Devon made a show of regret. “Damn, I knew we forgot something.”

“Oh, Devon, how could you?” Another of his sisters had stepped onto the porch, and she frowned at them in annoyance from behind Stewart’s wheelchair. Her short, businesslike blond hair barely moved as she shook her head. “One thing you have to bring, and it’s just like you to forget.”

She glared daggers at both Devon and Alisha, and Alisha shifted uncomfortably.

Well, that was lovely. Obviously not all of Devon’s family were as easy to get along with as his father.

She lifted the bag from her hip and held it out to the stern-faced woman. “Umm, actually, you’ll find a couple of bottles in here. The white is already chilled, and the red can be opened to breathe if we’re eating soon.”

The bag was accepted none too graciously. “I don’t know why Devon couldn’t just say so. Everything has to be some huge joke with him.”

She stormed off, leaving Stewart gazing after her. He twisted in his chair and made a face. “That one? Is a trifle high-strung. Ignore her, and make yourself at home.”

Devon squeezed Alisha’s fingers and they followed his father into the house.

The only possible description of what followed was chaos.

Children raced everywhere, from toddlers to tweens, the oldest of them eyeing Alisha with that mix of curiosity and disdain most kids that age were so good at. She stared back, poker-faced.

She was introduced to all the rest of Devon’s family. His mom squeezed her in a hug and then vanished, chasing after children with a warning to stay out of the cookies until dinner was served.

It was a good thing the house was so big, because the sheer number of bodies milling around probably placed it on the maximum occupancy list. It was a strange contrast to the holidays she remembered. Gentle music playing in the background, servants ushering in the various courses of the meal. Nothing but small talk at the table, not this uproarious noise that never seemed to end.

Alisha leaned on a wall to one side of the action and took it all in, somewhere between uncomfortable and amazed.

Warm arms snuck around her. “You need me to top up your drink? You’ve got this glazed expression slipping over you.”

“I’m overwhelmed. I guess you can tell.”

“Two more hours, three at the tops, and we’ll be free. We could stop on the way home and hike to Elbow Falls. Stretch our legs and work off some of the three pieces of pie I plan on consuming.”

His lips hit her neck and she shivered. “Your sister will turn me into a toad if she catches you doing that. I don’t think I impressed her much.”

Devon stroked his fingers over her waist where he held her, his thumb gentle over the gap of skin he found. “Charley doesn’t approve of me, ergo, you can’t be approved of. Don’t take it personally.”

“I won’t, but . . .”

“But what?” The words whispered past her ear, and she heated up without him even trying. “I approve of you completely.”

The ringing of a bell stole the chance to explain her confusion. They were hustled to the table and placed in what were probably considered strategic positions. In fact, glancing down the long table, there was a kind of twisted symmetry to it all. The tables were slightly different heights in places—not even the giant main portion with its rough-hewn planking could hold the entire family, but the room was large enough that they had laid two more tables end to end as well. The teens were crowded around a smaller table in the kitchen, and little children seemed to be tucked one on either side of their parents, hopefully to be corralled into behaving.

Which put her and Devon close to the head of the table and the Leblancs.

The little girl on Alisha’s left didn’t look too terrifying, staring up unblinking with her pale hair braided into an intricate design. Alisha thought she was a Kimberly or something like that. Definitely one of Charley’s girls.

Dinner itself was lovely. Bowls of homemade food passed again and again. Alisha laughed when Devon started scooping tidbits of extra stuff onto her plate, insisting she wasn’t eating enough to feed a bird.

“Devon, stop teasing her,” his mom warned.

Devon shrugged. “Sorry, instinct. Years of training around this table. I see an empty plate and I’m compelled to fill it.”

“Have you given any more thought to the business idea I suggested?” One of the brothers shook his fork at Devon. “I’m ready whenever you are to get you up to speed.”

Devon smiled, his expression tighter this time. “Thanks again for your generous offer, Mark, but I’m pretty happy with my career as it is.”

“Boys. You can take this conversation up after dinner.” His mom turned her bright smile on Alisha. “So, dear, tell me. What are you planning on doing once you’re done in Banff?”

Devon snorted softly, and Alisha took a deep breath. “Well, I’m not sure what the question is. Devon and I are on the Lifeline search-and-rescue squad, you know. It’s a solid, full-time job, and it looks like a good career for the future.”

Charley frowned from across the table. “You can’t keep doing that sort of work once you have a family.”

Oh boy. Alisha kicked Devon’s ankle under the table in the hopes he’d stop snickering. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“You’re how old, twenty-one?”

Well, that would have made her a touch precocious, even in the climbing community. “Twenty-six; thank you for the compliment.”

Charley seemed to be doing the mental math. Probably coming up with a number of baby-making years that were rapidly diminishing. She set her frown more firmly in place and rescued a scoop of potatoes from a toddler’s fork only seconds before it toppled to the tablecloth.

And that was the introduction to the remainder of the meal. Devon got offered a job from one of his older brothers—something suitable for a family man with high potential for moving up in the world and making a name for himself. Alisha got grilled on what other jobs were interesting to her once her obsession with being outdoors couldn’t support her anymore. Once she found her senses and swelled with child.

Through it all Devon kept his cool. Laughed. Lightheartedly teased his way out of committing to anything, and without actually saying the words, made it appear he agreed what he was doing in Banff was frivolous at the best and at the worst? Selfish.

Alisha grew more agitated by the minute, but she kept her annoyance hidden. Only when given the opportunity to escape, she took it.

“Devon promised to show me the horses. I hope you don’t mind?”

Devon scooped the final bit of his third piece of pie into his mouth, then grabbed her hand. “It’s true. Excuse us.”

Dirty dishes were still being carried to the kitchen, and maybe it was rude to leave before they’d helped clean up, but Alisha was seconds away from exploding on Devon’s behalf. She allowed him to guide her from the room, lips tightly pressed together to avoid saying something she’d regret.

He led her toward the fence line, the horses in the field shifting and approaching slowly. Devon clicked his tongue and called to them before turning to face her. His painted-on fake expression slid off and turned into real frustration and sorrow.

Alisha grabbed him by the collar and leapt upward, wrapped her legs around him, and clung on tight as she kissed him hard in the hopes it would consume some of her tightly compressed anger.