High Passion

CHAPTER 4

The dull echo that had surrounded them since they’d lowered into the cavern increased, the voices above them growing fainter as the building roar of water raced toward them. Devon used the rush of adrenaline surging in his veins to take a tighter grasp on the ropes, and to surround Alisha more firmly as the whistle in the distance became a thunder.

Alisha caught him around his torso, burrowing in even as she shrank against the wall, trying to protect him in reverse. Drawing him close enough that they would present the smallest possible surface area to the impending deluge.

A fine mist hit before the light vanished and icy coldness poured over them. The current swept from left to right, crashing into the rock and breaking like a wave overhead, dousing them a split second before the rest of the torrent surrounded them. Devon tucked his face into the crook of his arm, pinning Alisha against the rock. Darkness enveloped him, as if he’d leapt from a dock and plunged to the bottom of a lake. Only in contrast to the lake, however, here there was no calming silence, no peaceful bubbles. Instead, dangerous currents attempted to claw him from his perch. Watery fists pounded them, attempting to sweep them from safety into the endless fissures threading through the roots of the mountain.

With his eyes squeezed shut, there was nothing to see but the ghostly echoes of their headlamps. Alisha shifted position, and he caught her harness. One of his feet slipped from the ledge for a second before he jerked himself back into position. Small rocks crashed into them, carried by the current, but the swell of pressure had already lessened. He ignored the buzzing sensation in his lungs that had begun to call for air, instead concentrating on Alisha, on keeping them both safe.

Once the first wave was past, the water rapidly dropped, filling the crevices and cracks at their feet. As their heads broke the surface, he and Alisha gasped for air. Devon loosened one hand from the ropes, wiping his mouth and spitting out dirt-filled water as he glanced up to check the sky and their route to freedom.

Another fifteen seconds passed, maybe twenty, and the water continued to ease off, finding its level as water always does. He was thankful to discover that the water was around waist level.

“A bath was not on the agenda for today,” he joked, reaching to undo the first of the ropes binding them in place.

No answer.

Devon snapped his attention downward to discover that Alisha’s face had gone ghostly white. Her eyes were squeezed close and her lips pressed into a thin line.

“You okay?” he asked.

The roar of the water was still loud enough to prevent voices from traveling from the surface, but he was close enough to Alisha that when a low whimper escaped her, he heard. Her body jerked hard enough to rock them both, a seemingly involuntary motion.

Fear was an ice-cold blade at his throat, more frigid than the water numbing his limbs. “Dammit, Alisha, are you hurt? Did you get hit?”

He edged away to examine her, to see if one of the rocks that had grazed him had slammed her harder and caused an injury.

His attempt to adjust position was thwarted by increased pressure on his harness straps. Her fists clenched tighter as she once more hid her face against his chest.

What the hell was going on?

He calmed himself even though he wanted to shout. Years of training forced him to offer reassurances instead of panicking along with the elephant tangoing in his belly. “Alisha, I need to check you. You’ve got to let go.”

“No.”

The word burst from her, high-pitched and totally not typical Alisha.

His heart rate, which had begun to drop along with the water level, raced back up.

The water continued to disappear, falling to midthigh. The current pushing against them had slowed enough that he could stand without needing to brace himself to remain vertical. Devon caught Alisha by the forearms and, though he hated to do it, used his superior strength to break her hold. He ducked down and caught her chin in his fingers, lifting until he could look her in the eye.

“Alisha. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She continued to shake, pupils dilated as she stared into the darkness past him.

She’d gone into shock. Devon slapped at his chest to turn on his microphone connection to Anders. “I need a rope lowered now. Alisha’s—”

Her hand shot forward and slammed the button, effectively cutting him off.

“No.” The word was barely audible, but she repeated it again and again, getting louder as her lashes fluttered hard. Her eyes focused on his as the tremors shaking her body slowed. “Don’t tell them.”

“What the hell is going on?” Devon demanded. “You’re hurt, or in shock.”

She grew stronger even as he spoke, pulling herself upright. Her feet splashed in the now ankle-deep water as she attempted to move away. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

His speaker crackled. “Devon? Alisha’s what? You got a problem down there?”

Devon reached to answer, but Alisha blocked him again, her hand cupped over his transmitter to stop him from engaging the on button.

At least her reflexes were back up to speed. “Alisha, do we have a problem?”

She stared at him with begging in her eyes. “No. No problem. Don’t say anything. Please.”

That she was coherent enough to ask was the only reason he hesitated. Did he give her a break, at least for now? It was all kinds of wrong, but this was Alisha, dammit, and it seemed he had no brains when it came to her. He nodded once, and she reluctantly slipped her hand away.

Devon clicked the on button. Paused. Then did the only thing he could do under the circumstances.

“Alisha’s . . . mic isn’t working.” The lie fell from his lips, leaving behind a dirtier taste than the deluge that had blasted them. With one sentence he’d as good as stepped into the void. “Send the rope down. We’re soaking wet—a little help hauling our asses up would be appreciated if anyone has extra hands.”

The entire time he spoke, Alisha kept her gaze fixed on him, wordlessly pleading.

He was going to be in so much shit for passing this situation off if something was really wrong with her.

Anders’s instant response fell from above. “Affirmative. Look sharp.”

A rope snaked down the rock wall, a narrow beam of light highlighting its descent.

Devon ignored the rope, focusing on a far more important target. Alisha had switched her attention away, intent on the wall and removing the gear they’d set in place. She unlatched cams and linked carabiners onto her waist clips as if her soul depended on it.

He caught her by the wrist and forced her to stop. “Look at me.”

She twisted in slow motion, lifting her chin high. He ran a hand over her cheek, noting with approval that her skin had warmed, a deep crimson flush marking her cheeks. He checked the response of her pupils to his headlamp. All her physical responses were back to normal, but her eyes were haunted. He let out his frustrations in a long sigh, the sound mixing with the continuing gurgle of water past their feet.

Alisha caught his arm.

“Thank you.” The words came out ragged and rough, as if she’d been screaming for hours.

It wasn’t enough. After all the high-test emotions of the past minutes, anger rushed in and replaced them all. “This isn’t over. I won’t say anything now, but once we’re home, we’re going to talk about this more. Understood? Or I will question you in front of the team.”

The hurt and betrayal in her eyes at his final words nearly killed him, slicing to the core, but she nodded her understanding.

Needed distraction came from the thump of the rope end landing beside them. Devon watched her tie up, stepping in to examine her knots.

“Stop fussing, Devon,” she snapped. “I can climb. I’m fine.”

“Arguing with me right now is not an option,” he retorted. “Deal with it.”

Alisha snapped her mouth shut, hanging on to the rope and glaring as he double-checked her harness bindings. Soaking wet. Freezing cold. Pissed off as all get-out, and worried like crazy, he shouldn’t have been so damn aware of her curves as he tried not to touch anything other than her ropes and harnesses.

When he stepped back, she jerked her chin up. “Happy?”

“Not remotely.”

She hit his microphone button. “Anders, on belay.”

“Hey, girl. Belay on. Got your high-speed elevator ride all ready for you.”

She twisted away, but not before Devon saw the moisture in her eyes. She rose rapidly, walking her way up the wall as the team lifted her from the depths.

Devon waited for the rope to make its return descent. Plenty of time for guilt to pour in as hard as the water had earlier. Alisha’s behavior wasn’t something he should have ignored or brushed off. She’d reacted in an unexpected manner. What if it happened again, at an even more risky moment? She’d be a danger to both herself and the team, not to mention the people they might be rescuing.

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.”

Anders tossed bags into position and hooked up webbing to hold them in place during the flight. Up front Erin had the blades turning, preparations begun for taking them skyward. “You two never stop bickering. Think the noise alone would be enough to warm you.”

“Hey, I have no objections to offering my body. Willing sacrifice and all.” Xavier grinned at her.

“Oh, good,” Devon cut in, patting his lap. “I’m cold, too, Xav. Come cuddle me.”

Xavier blew a raspberry, and suddenly the team made it all very normal and ordinary. Xavier helped her strap in, rubbing her fingers momentarily in his palms before piling blankets on both her and Devon. For the entire journey home they were teased about going for a swim. Chatting about the rescue—typical return stuff that distracted her.

Except that every time she met Devon’s gaze there was a question there she knew she’d have to answer.

And how to answer? The trip home wasn’t long enough to figure out a solution.