High Risk

by Vivian Arend

  “I shouldn’t have shouted at you,” he admitted. “I’m still mad, and we need to talk, because I get you’re upset as well. But I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

  She nodded slowly, fighting to resist sharing the internal dry commentary that noted the shouting was the least offensive part of the entire situation. Still, he was a man. That “sorry” would have cost him. She caved a little—the only area she was willing to accept he had a smidgen of a right to bitch about. “I wasn’t being careless with your team’s safety. I clearly went over the parameters of how and where they were allowed to move. And climbing a building is illegal only if you do it without permission.”

  His lips twitched. “Or if it’s a world heritage site.”

  “You’re never going to let me forget that incident, are you?”

  His gaze heated, the staid, controlled man melting away as if memories of their nights of passion snapped to his mind as quickly as they did to hers.

  Good grief. Maybe she should haul him back to her dorm room and get this out between them. The urge to strip naked was as bad as it had been seven years earlier, a pile of kindling ready to burst into an inferno.

  Then thoughts of what she’d lost intruded, and the far more bitter memories of fear and terror wiped away all sexual lusts.

  Dane was dead. Her memory was gone—except for the haunting dreams that had begun the night after she’d frozen on the wall. Nightmares that made her want to start running again and not stop until she was exhausted.

  “Why are you looking like that?” Marcus asked, his fingers soft on her shoulder. “Becki? Are you okay?”

  She took a deep breath, focusing on the ridge of clouds sneaking over the mountain range. The answer to that question was far too big a topic to break open on the side of a trail. “We should finish our workout before the weather changes.”

  He withdrew his touch, staring at her silently. Becki twisted away under the guise of stretching to avoid having to meet his too-perceptive gaze any longer.

  At least they weren’t ready to strangle each other anymore.

  “Come on.” Becki tilted her head toward the trail. “Let’s burn off the rest of the gunk in our brains.”

  Without a word, Marcus joined her.

  Sharing the hard physical pain of a demanding workout was far easier than sharing the emotional turmoil inside.

  * * *

  He knew he should say something. Explain where he’d been, why he’d blown off training the past three days, but by the end of the run he was hurting so badly he could barely think. The entire time-delayed backlash from his episode hit at once, and he stumbled into the gym after Becki, all his concentration on putting one foot in front of the other.

  Stars floated in front of his eyes as he lurched for the mats, hoping to get to them before he collapsed on the hard wooden flooring.

  A cool cloth pressed against his face. Something rigid into his palm.

  “Marcus. Drink.” Becki’s voice prodded him. She didn’t sound pissed anymore. That was good. He didn’t want her pissed at him.

  The cool water slipped down his throat, easing the pain. Loosening the numbness until he could blink and glance around the room.

  Becki squatted beside him, one hand resting on his shoulder. “You with me?”

  Damn. “We taking turns blacking out now?”

  “I don’t think you went anywhere, but you were a touch dazed.” She squeezed her fingers. “Now I’m the one who needs to apologize. I exploded like a crazy woman and assumed you blew off training for no good reason. That was wrong of me.”

  He struggled to get the words out. He’d held them for so long it was difficult to actually come out and let someone other than David know. And why the urgent need to say anything now, to Becki, drove him, he wasn’t sure.

  But he had to say something. “I have these . . . episodes every now and then. No warning, no idea how long they will last. They’re getting less frequent, though. That much is good.”

  Her eyes widened. “Damn.”

  Marcus shrugged. He took another few swallows before he cleared his throat. “So much for my superpowers.”

  She settled back, stretching her legs in front of her. “Yeah, well. Looks like neither of us is quite who we used to be.”

  He hadn’t been for a long, long time.

  Marcus glanced over. There were shadows under her eyes and faint lines at the corners, but the signs of her sheer enthusiasm were also unmistakable. Her hopes of getting back into the world that had been torn from her. He couldn’t destroy that hope. Even though he’d discovered for himself there were some things you never recovered from, that didn’t mean she never could. And as long as there was hope, he would goddamn not let himself become a barrier to her dreams.

  He deliberately pushed aside his personal frustrations and reached out with every bit of acting skill he had. “You’ll get there. We’ll train you. Get you back into the swing of it. You’re good, Becki. Good with the team.” Good for me. “Thanks for stepping in when I bailed.”

  She nodded. “They were—something positive to focus on.”

  “Were they tough days? Not just the filling-in-for-me part.”

  She stared at the ceiling, biting her lip. When she turned to face him, the corners of her mouth had turned down. “Nightmares. Since I froze on the wall, I haven’t been sleeping very well.”

  His skin crawled, but he kept his response to himself. “The accident?”

  Becki sighed. “Yeah, but you don’t need me dumping on you.”

  He caught her by the wrist when she stood. “It’s not dumping. Sounds as if you’ve been dealing with fallout from the accident for a while, and maybe the whole wall thing will finally let you move past it.”

  “Still don’t need to take it out on you.”

  “You want the name of a good shrink here in town?”

  She pulled a face. “I’d prefer to dump on you.”

  He laughed, then regretted it as his temples throbbed. “I hear you, but they can help.” Not always, but again he kept his opinion to himself. His situation was not hers.

  They were both standing now. Marcus forced his feet to remain steady.

  Becki folded her arms around her body. “I’ll take you up on your offer if the nightmares get worse. Maybe having mentioned them out loud will be enough to make them go away. I’m going to shower, and you look like you need to crash as well. You going to be okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  If he hadn’t felt like a wet rope, he would have insisted on doing more for her. He was a short time away from a crash. Still—“Becki?”

  “Yeah?”

  A spark of an idea flew, triggered by David’s conversation. “You interested in grabbing some dinner tonight? Taste of Banff is happening in town. We can enjoy a few samples. You can see how the restaurants have changed. A chance to talk—about whatever.”

  It was an olive branch, the best he could manage with the anvil resting on his brain.

  She smiled. “I’ve got to remember this trick. Shout at a guy, and get offered a dinner date. Awesome.”

  “You game?”

  “After a nap.” She covered her mouth as she yawned, but he still caught it and the two of them grinned sheepishly at each other when they were done. “Like I said, we’re a matching set of zombies right now.”

  “Just what Banff needs. The Zombie Apocalypse. Typical Thursday.” He grabbed his things. “If you want to shower here, go ahead. Pull the gym door shut behind you when you leave.”

  Becki nodded. “What time shall I meet you?”

  “Can you be ready by six?”

  “No problem.”

  They stared at each other for a minute, neither of them willing to leave. Neither of them willing to make any further move forward, either.

  Marcus twitched. “Zombie is right. I’ll catch you in a few.”

  Walking away from her was tough, but the numbness needed to be answered before he totally fell apart. Hopefully a
fter a couple solid hours of sleep he’d be able to figure out what was the next step. What he could do to help her avoid the trap he’d fallen into.

  If he could push her to the light, maybe it would make his darkness a little more bearable.

  CHAPTER 12

  She’d been cold to start, and now that the wind picked up, the moisture in the air soaked her completely. The least pleasurable part of climbing was made all the worse by the fact that he was being an idiot. Just as he’d been for over a month.

  “You ready? Sometime today . . . would be great.”

  His hesitancy was clear. Probably figured she was going to freak out and give him hell again. “Bastard.”

  He sighed heavily. “I heard that.”

  “Bastard with Superman hearing. Good for you.” She didn’t care how rude she was being. Maybe if he heard it a few more times he’d stop being one. “Dane, I can’t see a bloody thing. I could be exactly on route, or hanging over a thousand-foot free fall for all I know.”

  “You want me to go first?” His instant response was so puppy-dog eager she felt a second’s twinge for being snarky.

  Only a second, though. She snapped out, “You couldn’t have said something fifteen minutes ago? Jerk.”

  “Yeah, but I’m your jerk, right?” Begging for approval. Stroking her like he longed to have her forgive him and move on. After the weekend they’d spent together she’d had enough. It only highlighted the way he’d been acting over the past weeks.

  Something had changed, and she hated what had become of their relationship. And once they got off the bloody mountain, there was no way this was going to continue. Still, humouring him for the moment was the only logical decision. “Yes, Dane, you’re my jerk.”

  Because taunting the person holding your safety line? Monumentally stupid.

  “Bec? Love you.”

  She leaned back, staring up the hillside. What the hell was the matter with him? “Dane?”

  All hell broke loose. . . .

  * * *

  She curled into a ball as she waited for her heart to stop pounding. Sweat covered her skin, and her scream of terror echoed in her ears. It was a good thing the dorms were still empty, or she would have had people pounding at her door to see who’d been murdered.

  Her brilliant idea of a nap had backfired.

  By the time she’d managed to unroll herself, Becki was more pissed off than frightened. The nightmares were becoming worse—having mentioned it to Marcus hadn’t helped at all. If anything, it was more terrifying now than it had been the night before.

  If only they didn’t keep changing. Maybe a recurring nightmare she could take, but one that every time made her think something was about to happen, and then it didn’t . . . ?

  She’d been able to redirect her dreams before, but these were going to drive her mad.

  It took a second shower to clean the stench of the nightmare from her body. She rubbed cream all over herself, got dressed.

  Realizing that she now wore her prettiest bra and undies was another kick in the gut. She wasn’t intending to let anyone see her in them. There was no reason to take extra care with her makeup and hair.

  No reason other than the fact that concentrating on Marcus and sex was far preferable to panicking about what mysteries remained hidden in her brain.

  When he picked her up, she was more tongue-tied than ever. His black jeans and grey sweater made his eyes look darker, the stubble on his chin emphasizing his strong jaw. He stood beside the door and helped her in, his fingers warm against her cold ones.

  “You keeping the beard?” she teased.

  “Shaver wasn’t charged, and I slept too late to mess with a razor one-handed.” He glanced over her, approval on his face. “You look great.”

  She’d never been a blusher. Not even when she was young, but right then and there, blood rushed to her cheeks. “Thanks.”

  He found them a parking spot, escorted her to the door. Together they moved through the line of people exchanging ticket stubs for tiny portions of different local menu samples. Buffalo steak. West Coast wild salmon. Marcus balanced his plate on his left elbow, using his right hand to point out items for her to try. He’d given her control of the coupons, and in the end he carried both their full plates to the table while she passed over the correct stubs to the woman at the end of the lineup.

  Becki eased into the chair opposite him, suddenly glad she’d accepted the invitation to Banff. No matter how far she had to go, being there was right.

  Small talk and comparisons of the various foods followed. Becki lifted a forkful of her venison for Marcus to try, and he licked the utensil clean, his gaze riveted on her. The meal was comfortable, and yet not.

  Anticipation hovered between them.

  Unanswered questions.

  Their after-dinner coffees had already been poured before she decided to stop being a wuss and talk to him about something more important than climbing shoes or gasket selections.

  “I had another dream this afternoon.” She sipped her drink, watching him over the brim.

  His shoulders tightened, focus narrowing. “You okay? Why didn’t you mention—”

  “—it earlier?” Becki cut in. “Because I’m tired. And being tired is getting old. I can’t let this get the better of me.”

  “Not sleeping makes it worse.”

  He had that right. “I keep thinking I’m about to find out the next thing that happens. But then the dream folds over and repeats. Like some twisted Groundhog Day movie in my brain. I see the same scene over and over again.”

  “The accident?” he asked. She nodded. “Frustrating. It would be better if it moved forward.”

  She snorted. “Part of me thinks it would be better if the dreams went away altogether, but you’re right. Maybe then I could actually know what happened. But even the stupid loop is mucked up.”

  Marcus rested his elbows on the table and leaned in closer. “Mucked up how?”

  “It changes. It’s still the same scene, it’s always me and Dane, but we’re different. We act differently, show different emotions. One time he was such an ass to me, I woke up wanting to punch him. Well, after I got back to breathing normally. And the next time, oh my God, I could have thrown myself off the cliff. I was such a bitch. Completely out of control and irresponsible.”

  She took a deep breath, shook her head in frustration. “I don’t know which of these is the truth. Maybe I did cause the accident. Maybe I was out of line and did something horrible that ended up getting him killed.”

  He grabbed her hand. “Trust me. The scenario where you were a bitch? That’s not the one that’s true.”

  Yeah, right. “After I ragged on you for no reason this afternoon? I don’t think you’re considering all your facts.”

  “Actually, our little debate today is exactly why I don’t think you did anything belligerent when you were out there.” He released her fingers. “Even when you were rightly furious with me you still behaved in a professional manner—well, except for the climbing-out-the-window part, but that’s in character as well.”

  Her cheeks twitched with the urge to smile. “I swear I haven’t done anything like that for years. You bring out the devil in me.”

  His eyes flashed. Something dark and lust-filled stared back at her. She felt her body heating up. Responding to him as always.

  “Talk about bringing out the devil in a person.” Marcus spoke softly. “You had all your medical work done up for the school?”

  “Of course. You think there’s something in there that would explain why I can’t remember details?”

  He stared at her lips before slowly rolling his gaze down her body. “No. Just making sure your record is as clean as mine.”

  Shit. A direct hit of desire to her core burst upward as if he’d aimed a bomb between her thighs. She squeezed her legs together to fight the urge to slip her hand into her lap. “Are you trying to distract me from talking about nightmares?”

  “It�
��s your fault. I’m being distracted by your perfume. Suddenly I don’t want anything more for dessert but you. Any way I can have you.”

  Her mouth went dry. “Marcus—”

  “You on birth control? Because while I’d prefer to go without, we can use condoms. They’re a little tougher to deal with one-handed. You’ll have to help me put them on.”

  “What are you doing?” Becki whispered, glancing around the room to make sure they weren’t being overheard. Their nearest dinner partners seemed oblivious, but Becki wasn’t sure if she should slap him or jump him.

  Damn stupid body for mixing reactions.

  Then he leaned back and relaxed, his body language shifting from sexual predator to casual friendship. “See, if you were prone to doing something irrational and wild? You would have at least thrown something at me for being a jerk just now, even though we’re in a public place. Only you’re not like that, Becki. You’re a good person. Whatever is hidden in your brain and pushing your buttons, it’s not that you were a crazed lunatic, okay?”

  Her pulse was still going a million miles an hour. She was torn between laughing and punching him in the gut, but however twisted his method had been, it had worked. He had a valid point. While she might be impulsive, she had never done anything cruel or malicious, nothing to indicate the whack-job dreams were real.

  His method of making his argument, however, had been over the top and outrageous. She smiled. Kind of in character for him as well. Good thing she was bent, but not broken.

  One good—deed—deserved another.

  “Yes.” She took a deep breath, filling her lungs and forcing her breasts against the fabric of her top. His gaze dropped from her face, involuntarily tracing the edge of her scoop-necked blouse as she arched slightly to make the swells ease upward even farther.

  His breathing skipped a notch. “Yes, what? You agree you’re not a crazy woman?”

  “Definitely not crazy. Good point.” She dragged a finger through the leftover chocolate on the plate before them, lifted it to her mouth, and slipped the gooey sauce between her lips. Sucking lightly and humming as she stared at him from under her lashes. “Also, yes. I’m on birth control. I far prefer being skin on skin during sex, but I’m picky about who I allow the privilege of partnering with me bare. Although the idea of putting a condom on you does sound . . . intriguing. I think I remember how.”