Latvis Security Services

by Lexie Ray

  “Like hell he will be,” Mitch snapped.

  “I want to do a test run first. See what we can do to make it as smooth as possible.”

  “Then Mary will go up first.”

  “She won’t be any help lifting you,” Gawain said.

  “Not to mention,” Jamie added, “That’s your wife, man. You don’t want her being the test run. Now, let’s move before Gwen freezes.”

  The cave did little to protect them against the wind chill. Jamie’s hands trembled, but he was still able to unfasten all the buckles in record time. Gawain’s movements were just as sure as he snapped the rig around himself and tested the line.

  “Okay. We’re going to get him up, then I’ll come back for you two.”

  Mitch’s face turned bright red, “Now, you listen to me–”

  “One thing to get clear,” Jamie cut in. “I’m not here for you. My mission is to get Gawain. You can come along, or I can leave you here. I don’t honestly care either way.”

  He pulled back the corner of the tarp and motioned for Gawain to lead the way. As he passed by into the roaring cold, Gawain leaned in to whisper, “Did you mean any of that?”

  Jamie snorted. “No.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Pain flooded every inch of Gwen’s body. Shivering had taxed her muscles. Every movement, no matter how small, made her muscles feel like boulders grinding against each other. Fire sparked through her fingers, begging her to release her grip. She held tighter. Jamie had made it safely to the ledge. The next double tug would indicate that someone was coming up. With the hand-operated crank, the process would be easier, but she couldn’t help the image of Gawain being tossed in the wind from entering her mind.

  The tug came, and Gwen flew into action. The howling wind covered the clanking of the mental wrench. It only took a few pumps for her arms to threaten to give way. An eternity passed before a hand reached up to grasp the snowy ledge. She cranked harder. Faster. Another hand appeared, and Gawain hurled himself over the edge.

  Snow crunched under her boots as she sprinted to her brother. It didn’t seem real to wrap her hands in the familiar neon blue of his jacket. She dragged him from the edge, ignoring his protests and startled yelps, then flipped him over and brought him into a tight hug.

  “Are you okay?” she demanded, her grip tightening.

  “I’m fine, Gwen. Settle down.”

  “Settle?” She couldn’t get all the words out before she smacked the side of his head. “What is wrong with you?”

  Gawain rolled his eyes, but still brought her into a quick, tight hug. “Thanks for coming out.”

  “Anytime,” she mumbled.

  “Now,” Gawain’s grin dripped with a teasing edge that he had perfected in their childhood years, “let’s get your boyfriend up.”

  Gawain turned away, leaving Gwen gaping for a response. With Jamie holding the other end, the rope was now linked in a loop, allowing them to send the harness back down without much worry that the wind would keep it from ever reaching them.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  Gawain continued to work as he glanced up to meet Gwen’s eyes. “A little slow in the rebuttal there, aren’t ya?”

  Gwen focused back on her work.

  “Besides, if he’s not, he really wants to be.”

  “We are not discussing this now,” Gwen snapped.

  “You never want to talk to me.”

  “There are three people stuck on the side of the cliff, and this isn’t even the brunt of the storm. They will freeze to death if we don’t get them up.”

  Gawain helped her make the last arrangements, and then all that was left for them to do was wait.

  “For the record, we can communicate and work at the same time.”

  “Gawain, let it go.”

  “You like him, don’t you? Well, good for you, sis. You finally bagged a hottie.”

  “You want to date him?” Gwen snapped back.

  Gawain mulled over the thought. “For a guy that looks like that? I’d be willing to experiment with my sexuality.”

  “That is an image I don’t need in my head,” Gwen muttered.

  “Don’t ask the question if you can’t handle the answer.”

  The next set of tugs came, and the process resumed once more. A woman was pulled free from the precipice, a bundle of gear wrapped around her, her eyes wide with fear. The second she had ground under her feet once more, she began to rage. Gwen couldn’t make out most of what the woman was saying, but Gawain led her away quickly enough. He left her to arrange the sleigh to accommodate the new load. With a task to focus on and some measure of control that she could finally wield, the woman seemed to settle.

  Next up was the injured man. A sleeping bag was wrapped thickly around his injured leg. It might not have been able to protect the limb from every jolt, but it was better than nothing, and the man refused to allow them to remove it.

  “Can you walk?” Gawain asked over the wind and the woman’s constant fussing.

  “Of course, he can’t walk!” the woman cried.

  The man quickly joined the conversation with demands for the promised drugs. Eventually, Gwen crouched down next to the man, slipped one hand behind his back and the other under his thighs, and lifted him off the ground. His protests were short lived and had died out by the time she settled him into the sleigh. He wrapped the furs around himself and called for his wife to join him. They were both slender enough to squeeze into the tight space and quickly coiled around each other.

  By the time Gwen got back to Gawain, he was pulling up the rest of the pack, each one stored and sorted with an expertise that made her smile. There was a lump in her gut. Something cold and solid, that twisted and speared her insides. The tension within her grew and spread, and it wasn’t hard to place the source.

  With Jamie being the last one up, there would be no one to anchor him. If the ledge allowed, he might be able to rig something up, but his journey would still send him smashing into the wall repeatedly, or threaten to pull him off altogether.

  She peered over the edge and watched as the emergency light flicked off. Her breath held in her throat until the twin tugs twisted up the rope. The machine had to work harder as the rope twisted in the wind. It rattled every time Jamie hit the cliff face and skirted to the side when the gale caught him. The constant motion made it harder to work the rig, and Gawain was left to crank it while Gwen took to pulling the rope by hand. Even with her feet braced, her hold on the rope pushed and tugged her across the snow.

  The hard lump in her stomach shattered when Jamie’s hand appeared over the edge. She moved forward and latched onto his forearm, using her weight to help him pull himself back onto solid ground. Jamie swung his legs up and rolled. The motion sent him right into her, and he only stopped when he was half-sprawled on top of Gwen.

  The weight robbed the air from her lungs, but she welcomed it with a bubble of laughter. Jamie squirmed onto his elbows, knocking her in the stomach as he did, and beamed down at her. His hood hadn’t been able to withstand the wind and had been pulled back, allowing his golden hair to flutter around his face.

  “Having fun?” Gwen asked.

  “Like you’re not,” he teased.

  His hands balled in the front of her coat, and he lurched to his feet, bringing her up along with him. Barely a few inches separated them as they trotted over to the sled. Gawain had been able to keep the couple as calm as could be expected, but both of them looked ready to leap at Jamie the second he neared.

  “How was the ride up?” Jamie grinned.

  The man opened his mouth, but Jamie cut him off before he could say anything.

  “Let’s get you comfortable. Do you have any allergies I need to know about? Health issues? Other medications that are already in your system?”

  The conversation was quick as Jamie pulled a small medic case out of the deeper parts of the sled. It was padded and designed to withstand almost anything that could be thrown
at it with its cargo intact. It was army regulation.

  Jamie noticed Gwen looking and gave her a quick smile. “Jai’s a doctor and Mads…well, I’m not exactly sure what Mads does, but he does it well.”

  The shot was quickly administered, and Jamie settled everyone into their positions while Gwen readied the dogs. It was their routine now, something that didn’t need discussion or debate. It occurred to her as she coaxed the side dogs onto their feet that the routine was easy for them. They naturally fell into it, neither arguing their merit, nor competing for the sake of their ego. Competition was kept for entertainment, to push each other to better their skills. Working with him was easy. But then, so was falling for him.

  ***

  The heavier load slowed down the dogs. The storm made it nearly impossible to run. At a near-leisurely pace, they twisted through the towering pines, trudging forward, the slope helping to coax them down. They didn’t get more than an hour of ground beneath them before it grew impossible to go any further. With the extra bodies, the worsening wind, and the abundance of compact snow, they decided that a snow cave was the way to go.

  Gawain insisted that two caves be constructed. He argued about privacy for the couple and that the smaller size would better conserve the warmth. Both Gwen and Jamie were too tired to care and offered no resistance. The shelters were kept simple. A low entrance that also served to keep out the cold, a raised platform to sleep on, a ventilation tunnel, and smooth inner walls to prevent any drips when the temperature inside rose from their body heat.

  Gwen was lighting a small fire in the larger shelter when Gawain and the wife, Mary, began to pull Mitch through the opening.

  “Did you take care of the dogs?” Gwen asked over her shoulder as the fire roared to life.

  “All fed, accounted for, and happily napping,” Gawain said. “Prince Charming says your dinner is ready. Head on over. I’ll take care of them.”

  It was with those words that the sleeping arrangements she had agreed to actually clicked. Gawain and the couple would be here. She and Jamie would be sharing. For all the time they had spent alone, it still seemed like a surreal option, one that sent sparks scattering through her stomach.

  Both eager and reluctant, she scurried out of the den. The wind wrapped around her like flowing ice. Only a few steps separated the two makeshift structures, but she was frozen to the core by the time she managed to shuffle inside. Just getting out of the wind made everything warmer. The fire Jamie had set up in one corner was an extra delight. She reveled in the heat, wallowing in it while it seeped into her battered skin.

  There wasn’t enough space for Gwen to stand, so she kept on her knees in the lowered entrance and took deep, soothing breaths. The hearty scent of instant stew wafted in the warmed air. It made the space homey and peaceful, and she felt the stress that had knotted her shoulders seep away.

  “Hi, honey, how was your day?” Jamie beamed at her as he stirred the contents over the open fire.

  The shadows cast by the firelight extenuated the bruises that littered his face. A black eye and a busted lip, and still he had to be the sexiest man in existence. Stubble covered his jaw, adding a wildness to his appearance that made heat pool in Gwen’s stomach. He looked happy and content as he spooned the stew into two metal cups.

  “Dinner in bed?”

  Gwen snapped out of her daze to realize that there was only one sleeping bag. Goosebumps broke out over her skin as she recalled just how he had looked – and how he had felt – naked and pressed up against her. He noticed her eyeing the twin sleeping bag and cocked his head.

  “I didn’t think it was a good idea to put the couple in a twin. Couldn’t really risk the missus kicking him in the middle of the night.”

  “Of course.”

  “Are you okay with this?”

  The question came out with a hint of bafflement, like he couldn’t quite understand what objection she could have to it. She wasn’t about to tell him that she had doubts that she could keep her hands to herself. Gwen opted instead to pull her boots off. Besides, it wasn’t like she looked all that tempting at the moment. It had been a long couple of days, and she must look the worse for it. And even if she was perfectly pristine, long johns weren’t likely to make their way into a Victoria’s Secret catalogue any time soon.

  Stripped down and with tomorrow’s clothes safely stowed at the foot of the sleeping bag, she crawled in. Jamie was quick to pass her a cup as soon as she was settled, and she let the heated sides warm her hands.

  “You look happy,” she noted.

  Cup in one hand, Jamie slipped in next to her and zipped up the bag.

  “Are you kidding? This is the best holiday I’ve been on in years.”

  “Yeah,” she snorted. “Camping, sledding, dangling off a cliff.”

  “And I got to do it all with a pretty girl,” he said as he tapped their cups together. She rolled her eyes. “Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not having fun.”

  “I spent most of this time with my brother in danger.”

  “Mild danger. And now he’s not. That changes perception.”

  Gwen wanted to argue, but it only came out as a light huff. It had been grueling, stressful, and downright unpleasant, and she had loved it. Not the reason why they were here, but being here, shivering, famished, and sleep deprived, and doing it all with Jamie.

  “I think it’s going to be fun working together.”

  Jamie’s smile didn’t fade, but it did grow wistful as he devoured his stew. “Yeah. It really is.”

  The conversation died, and they filled the silence by concentrating on their food. Gwen hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the first mouthful passed her lips. Jamie looked just as starved as he attacked his food with gusto. The last few droplets landed on his bottom lip. Jamie swiped at them absently with his thumb, only remembering about his split lip when his nail dug into the break. He hissed and dabbed at the welling blood with the tip of his tongue. Gwen had to remind herself sternly that none of this was something she should find attractive.

  “Do you mind checking me out?”

  Gwen almost choked on her mouthful. It made Jamie’s lips quiver as he held back his laughter.

  “The cut,” he said. “I can’t see it, and I’m pretty sure I taste dirt.”

  “Sure,” Gwen said.

  She shoved her now empty cup into his hand and crawled out of the sleeping bag just enough to reach for the pack. The first aid kit was small, but ample. She had made sure that everything within it served more than one purpose. With the small box tightly in hand, she turned back around and paused.

  “Were you just checking out my rear?”

  “Yes.” There wasn’t the slightest hint of shame in the word or in Jamie’s smile.

  “I’m contemplating whether or not I should hit you.”

  “I didn’t know it would offend,” he said smoothly. “I deeply apologize. And for the record, it’s okay that you stare at my crotch so much.”

  “I do not.”

  He cocked his eyebrow, a confident smirk in place, and she wondered just how often he had caught her looking. It didn’t help calm her nerves when she had to crawl back toward him. Jamie drew in a deep breath and leaned back, hips unconsciously rolling and drawing Gwen’s eyes to the one place she was determined they weren’t going to go.

  “Thanks for doing this,” he smiled.

  “You can sit up.”

  “Or you can lie down. It would be warmer that way.”

  Even as Jamie said it, he began to sit up, certain that she wasn’t going to take him up on his offer. It was that confidence that pushed Gwen into action. She wanted to surprise him, to see if she could get under his skin as much as he did hers. Placing one hand in the center of his chest, she pushed him back down onto the sleeping bag. He went with a startled grunt, the noise choking off into a satisfying yelp as she straddled him.

  “Hold this,” she said.

  Jamie stared at her, eyes wide and jaw
a little slack, numbly reaching out with one hand to take the box. The stunned expression morphed into a smile as Gwen slowly sank down on top of him. Chest to chest, she used her free hand to zip them up. Compressed together, neither of them could so much as take a breath without the other feeling it.

  “Best holiday ever,” he whispered.

  “Shut up.”

  Jamie shifted under her, shuffling down deeper into the heat they had created. Gwen felt the drag over every inch of her front, a delicious friction that made her long to be naked again. Her breath caught when he rolled his hips and his solid, thickening shaft pressed between her legs.

  “Jamie,” she warned.

  “It’s a bodily function. I can’t help it,” he mumbled with a smile.

  Gwen fought back a blush as she opened the first aid kit. “Then don’t poke me with it.”

  “But I really want to poke you with it,” he said.

  Despite her desperate attempt to keep a straight face, she broke into a soft chuckle.

  “You’re an idiot.”

  Jamie managed to hold his tongue while she gathered an alcohol swab and began to dab at his lip.

  “Did you know that this is one of my favorite fantasies? No, I’m serious.” As he continued, his hands began to slide over her hips, his fingers spreading out, seeking to touch as much as possible. “A snow storm. Little shelter built for two. Got to find a creative way to keep warm.”

  Gwen meant to snap at him again but, as her fingers trailed over his bottom lip, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Swallowing thickly, she let her hips roll.

  “Me too.”

  She said it so softly that she was sure he wouldn’t hear. That maybe the friction would keep his attention away from language. A deep moan escaped him as his hands tightened on her hip.

  “Damn, you’re perfect.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re perfect for me,” he grinned.

  Gwen lunged forward before she realized what she was doing. Their lips met. She meant to pull back and be gentle with him, but the brief contact fed into a greater hunger. Jamie’s hands twitched around her hips as she slipped her tongue over the seam of his lips. She hadn’t even completed the stroke before his mouth opened to invite her in.