High Risk

CHAPTER 29

A tiny flash of something moving past the window made her push upright to stare in disgust. “Snow? It’s really going to snow now?”

Marcus nodded. “Welcome back to Canada in May. Look at the good side. We could get trapped for a week.”

“That’s a good side?” She wiggled off his lap and grinned at his expression. “Well, yes, it could be fun, so you can stop leering. Another plus—I doubt we’ll have visitors if there’s any kind of accumulation.”

She pulled her clothes back on while he adjusted and zipped, both of them opening the doors at the same time. The rush of fresh air and the scent of the spruce trees slammed into her with a powerful hit, memories of years spent in these mountain ranges settling her soul.

“This is a good place,” Becki decided, glancing around with delight at the gorgeous setting. Peace settled a little harder—there was no way she could avoid it. The Rocky Mountains were as close to heaven on earth for her as it got. It had always been that way. Paradise, the occasional touch of hell, but mostly a healing balm for her spirit.

They worked easily together, carrying in supplies. Marcus stopped her in the middle of one trip to wrap his arm around her and kiss her thoroughly.

She touched her fingers to her lips, still buzzing from the attack. “Well, that was unexpected. Nice, but out of the blue.”

“We have no agenda, Becki,” he pointed out. “No rush. No need to be settled in under five minutes. Slow down and take your time.”

“Practice a little patience? Is that what you’re telling me?” she teased.

“Of course.” Marcus tweaked her nose, then twirled her toward the kitchen. “Take a peek and see how things look. I’ll turn on the propane and the pumps.”

He vanished out the front door, and she caught herself staring at his ass. Unnumbered days alone with him, and she couldn’t wait. Forget going slow, this was the unexpected opportunity of a lifetime.

The weekend they’d shared so many years ago had changed her life. She’d been headstrong. Impulsive. Probably bound for an early grave if he hadn’t talked her through her wild impulses and proved she could still have a good time while staying alive.

Her future at the time had seemed wide open, and he’d helped her see the real possibilities. Now her options were closing in, but surely out of all the people to be able to help her find her way, he was the one.

Her memory would come back. Marcus was right—she fully expected, sometime during the next days, to be overwhelmed with whatever it was that remained buried. Remembering was going to hurt, and potentially destroy all the plans she’d made.

It wasn’t going to destroy her. She vowed it wouldn’t.

She snatched up the broom leaning against the corner and used it like a weapon, taking out her frustrations on the small dust bunnies and leaves that had drifted in the door to lie tucked along the edges of the floorboards.

If she’d cut the line on Dane, there was no way she could go back to work on any rescue squad. Even if there’d been no alternative—it might have been her last choice, but that truth would also mean a lot of jobs would be off her list.

Like teaching. The team hadn’t freaked out, but for everyone who took the time to get to know her, there would be those who judged her strictly on the past situation. She couldn’t do that to David and the Banff SAR school.

She scooped the debris into the dustpan and carried it outside. Who was she kidding? Taking teaching off the list wasn’t about being compassionate to David. She wouldn’t want to go through life starting every semester with suspicion, reliving the hurt and the doubt all over again, and that was what teaching would end up doing.

Only a masochist would ask for that kind of punishment. She might like her sex a little rough at times, but daily life shouldn’t involve pain.

Becki stepped inside and took a closer look around, distancing herself from her morbid thoughts. There was a sturdy table with four chairs, and a small kitchen counter and island across from it that separated the cooking area from the living room. A wood-frame couch and two chairs, thick cushions on both.

The infamous wood-burning stove in the corner of the room with a thick rug in front of it.

Cozy, but not in a smothering sense, more like compact and orderly. Another place of peace.

The first of the two doors in the back wall opened onto a tiny bathroom and she grinned. Indoor plumbing for the win. Rustic was good—outhouses, not so good.

“You see, your prediction about lots of skin rubbing together in the shower is one hundred percent correct.” Marcus spoke quietly right over her shoulder, his arm catching her before she could turn. His right hand slipped around her belly and he tugged her back tightly against his torso. “I turned on the pump and the rapid-fire heater. We can shower in that thing until the stream runs dry and never lose our hot water.”

Warm lips met her cheek and Becki stretched, leaning into him. Accepting his caress. “Did I say thank you for bringing me here?”

“You did. A few times. You can stop. I want to be here with you.”

His sincerity was clear.

She turned and stared into his face, searching for understanding. “Why? Why are you doing this? I know what I want, I know why I’m here—”

“Or you think you do,” he interrupted.

Becki poked him in the gut with an extended forefinger. He grunted in pain as he released her. “Stop with the assuming. I’m grateful you brought me away from the vultures, and I said I trusted you. Doesn’t mean I want you putting words into my mouth and meanings to my actions before you hear what I have to say.”

Marcus leaned on the wall beside her, trapping her in the bathroom space. “Or maybe you should accept that you’re saying loud and clear what’s in your head without having to open your mouth.”

Oh really. “Mind reader now, are you?”

“If you want to call it that.” Marcus caught her hand in his, tugging her after him. He moved slowly, like she was a wary animal. Maybe she was. . . . Becki kept her footing steady as Marcus smoothed his knuckles over her cheek, his perceptive gaze darting over her face. “I won’t push. Not yet. But I’m here for you—one hundred percent, just like you asked.”

She sighed, letting go of her tension. “Sorry for snapping at you.”

“It’s understandable. Come on, let’s burn off a little of your aggression before we dig to find out what David gave us for supplies.”

She dressed warmly, with sturdy hiking boots and thin but comfortable gloves. Gore-Tex jacket and a toque in her pocket, just in case. A nice long walk after sitting would feel good.

They were outside and pacing easily down a game trail before she realized he’d avoided her question—the one where she asked for his reasons. In spite of his teasing, she knew why she was hiding in the wilderness.

What had made him willing to drop everything?

Marcus stirred the chili one last time, then turned to watch Becki pace the cabin.

Although she wasn’t marching back and forth in the strictest sense of the word. It was as if all the unused energy she’d had to contain during their drive was still escaping, even after their walk and the impromptu workout she’d forced him to do that involved jumping jacks and torturous abdominal moves.

She’d found a box of candles in the box of groceries and had gathered all the possible candleholders from everywhere in the room. An eclectic collection of old bottles to antique brass. She’d filled them one at a time, carrying each back to a select spot. Now she systematically lit them one after another, leaving tiny beads of glowing yellow in her wake.

He dimmed the propane lantern on the wall behind him to allow her handiwork to shine brighter.

Becki turned slowly, pulling off her sweater and draping it over the back of the couch. “This cabin is beautiful. Although that stove is going to cook me out of here if we’re not careful.”

“I turned down the damper already,” Marcus said. “I agree—it gets going and it’s like the middle of summer in here.”

She stood and stared at the flame, the dancing flickers from the stove meshing with the smaller torches she’d created to fill the space with luxurious warmth. The soft light caressed her skin. Turned the entire room unearthly.

He could barely speak. Intruding seemed sacrilegious.

Her hands reached for the ceiling as she stretched, lowering her arms and twisting to face him, a contented smile on her face. “Supper nearly ready? I’m starving.”

“I love a woman with a good appetite.”

She moved to his side and helped arrange things on the table. “Which should mean you cooked enough for both of us. Worst thing ever—first dinner dates that the pots are scraped clean and my stomach is still grumbling.”

Marcus guided her to a chair, leaning in close to take a long inhale of her scent. “I promise to feed you well. I think David packed for three, so we’re good.”

She scooped chili into both their bowls, licking a drop from her finger as she passed his serving over. “David was a bit of a miracle worker to get all that together so quickly.”

“Typical David,” Marcus admitted. “I sort of suspect he figured out before we did that we’d head for the hills. He’s good that way. Part of what’s always made him do so well with the school. He knows when to step in, when to let things slide. Who’s the right person for the right job. When to kick my butt and when to leave me alone.”

She nodded slowly, staring at her bowl. “I hope I don’t have to disappoint him.”

Miracle of miracles. Would she actually talk about what she was really running from without him having to drag it from her? “In what way?”

She dipped her spoon into the chili, then lifted it, licking the bowl of the spoon as she clearly debated what to say. “Just thinking out loud. This is tasty, Marcus.”

She set to eating as if she were starving, and he let the comment pass. He’d said he would give her space, and that was what he would do. As much space as a twelve-by-twelve cabin would allow.

But even if she wasn’t willing to share right now what she was afraid of, he wasn’t going to let her deal with it alone. He wasn’t going to wait until she called for help before he did something to help her through the hurting.

Small talk. Dishes. They’d shifted to the couch, and she curled up at his side without being asked. It was natural and comfortable, which meant it was totally time to shake things up.

Time to move decisively.

“I think we should play a game,” he proposed.

Becki snorted softly, stopping where she’d been drawing circles on his forearm with her finger. “If you suggest Truth or Dare, I’m going to make you sleep on the couch.”

Marcus shifted her to the side so he could see her face more clearly. “Hate that game or something?”

“Hello—what do you think triggered that stupid assault on the exterior of the Banff Springs so long ago? Although there were shots of tequila involved as well.”

“I was sure there had to be alcohol involved in that somehow,” Marcus taunted. “No, nothing so childish as Truth or Dare.”

“Strip poker?”

“I cheat.”

Becki smiled. “Risk? Monopoly?”

Marcus shook his head. “As if you could sit for an entire board game. You’d have it upset with all your wiggling before I got to bankrupt you.”

A log cracked, and they both glanced at the tiny fire he had going. “Twenty Questions? That’s what it seems like.”

“No. Let me help you. It’s like Simon Says, but simpler. All it involves is you doing whatever I tell you.”

He heard her quick intake of breath. “That might be fun.”

“Well, you did mention you expected lots of sex over the next few days. I’d hate to disappoint.”

“Ohhh . . .” she drawled, “It’s going to be that kind of ordering me around. And here I thought you’d have me tap-dancing or something like that to entertain you.”

“Trust me. I plan to be very entertained.” Marcus waited, gazing into her eyes. Looking for a clue of what she needed right now that would get her past the coming confusion.

Her smile twitched, but she sat straighter, leaning toward him. She planted a hand on his chest, then brought their mouths together for a slow, sweet kiss. Languid tongues and easy pressure. Just enjoying each other as if they had all the time in the world. No deadlines, nothing hanging over them.

God, he wanted that to be the reality for her.

When she pulled away he’d nearly decided to forgo the games and take her to bed. Nothing needed but the slow steady feed of the passion between them. Only her expression as she found her feet before him?

Longing, and yet fear. Not of him, he was sure of that. Of the future. Of what closing her eyes might reveal.

Marcus stretched out his legs, deliberately taking his time to settle into a comfortable position. Making it about him and his wants. Taking the focus off her. She was strong enough to call him out if he’d guessed wrong, but he didn’t think he was.

“You ready for this?” he asked.

She shuffled from side to side slightly, getting her balance. Even breathing. In through the nose, out through her mouth. Every trick in the book to find her center.

“Game on,” she whispered. Gaze straight at his. Eyes focused on him.

How could a woman who was so strong be so willing to offer it all up? Marcus took control of himself and vowed he’d do whatever it took. Whatever it cost.

Because it was going to cost him—that much he knew for sure.

He glanced the length of her body. Assessing, weighing. When he met her gaze again, he spoke softly. “Undo your hair.”

Becki eased off the elastic she’d used to pull her hair back into a functional ponytail. She slipped the band into her pocket, then lifted her hands again, smoothing her fingers through the strands and fluffing it over her shoulders. The long tresses rested over her shoulders, slightly tousled, a lock falling over her forehead and into her eyes.

“Your top. Take it off. Slowly.”

Her laughter rippled across the room. “I’m not a very good dancer, Marcus. If you want me to swing my hips and give you a show, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

“Oh, I doubt that very much,” he said. “No dancing required. Undo your buttons, sweet Becki. One at a time. That’s it.” He followed her fingers with his gaze as she slipped the tiny pearl-white circles through the slits. “Every one you open reveals a little more of your skin. All the candlelight in the room reflects off you and makes it glow. I can see the edges of your bra cups now. Your breasts. It’s like a present being unwrapped before me.”

She was silent as she finished the final buttons, the front of her shirt gaping open so the light shone on her solid belly.

Her breathing wasn’t as even as it had been a few moments before.

Becki shrugged her shoulders and the gap widened. When the fabric finally came loose she let it fall to the floor at her feet.

Marcus stared hungrily at her, sure that what was in his gut showed on his face. Hoping it did. This was more than temporary desire, this was a need for her that was going to last his entire life.

“You’re beautiful. So strong, so powerful.” Becki undid the button on her pants as she smiled in response to his comment. He jerked her to a stop with a single word. “Wait.”

One brow rose. “I assumed you wanted me naked.”

“Don’t assume.” He stood and stepped in close enough that she could touch him without leaving her space on the floor. “My turn. Take off my shirt.”

She’d undressed him before, days earlier. That time she’d been blindfolded and he’d watched her fingers tremble as she moved. As she touched.

Now she stroked him with her gaze as well as her touch, and he hadn’t been prepared for how powerful the effect would be. Becki undid his belt, popped his button. Lowered the top notches of his zipper. That freed room for her to slip her hands under his T-shirt, fingertips cool against his heated skin. She stared into his eyes as she passed over his chest, thumbs skimming his nipples. When she pressed closer so she could reach behind him he took a deep breath, the seductive scent of her body lotion teasing his senses.

This playtime might be about what she needed, but damn if he wasn’t going to enjoy it as well.