by Vivian Arend
Timothy.
Damn him anyway. She eased a hip onto a tall bar stool and smiled across at the owner of the bar-slash-club known as The Wild. “You’re pouring drinks, Phillip? Not often I see you back there.”
“It’s a special night. I have a guest coming in later, and I want to see his face when he walks in the door.” Phillip moved easily behind the counter, pulling a bottle from the shelf and adding ice to glasses. The gentle clink as they bumped together merged into the soft music playing in the background.
Nothing rowdy or wild here, no matter what the bar’s name. Erin liked the place more than the Rose and Crown, where the rest of the Lifeline team tended to hang out on nights off.
It gave her a place of her own. Something different from spending her time working and playing with the team. Because while she admired them and trusted them in the field, this part of her life was her own and she didn’t want them mixed in it.
Which made the idea of Tim joining Lifeline all the more dangerous to consider.
Phillip slid a drink toward her, and she accepted it readily. He would give her the usual. Not much alcohol—just enough for the taste—and the rest mix. Not only did she have to keep her wits about her in case she got an emergency call-out, but a place like The Wild was no place to get sloppy.
Drunk was far too uncivilized, and Phillip was all about being proper. About maintaining control, a sentiment she agreed with one hundred percent.
A pair of strangers took the bar stools to her left. The nearest man stared unabashedly down the front of her corset before smiling at her. Erin returned the smile, careful to stay on the edge of inviting. She didn’t want to encourage him, but there was no fun snuffing a guy’s hopes before he’d even gotten started.
She turned to her host. “A guest who’s important enough to make you hit the counter. You have guests all the time. What makes this one special, or do I not want to know?”
Probably something to do with the upper rooms, an area she’d put off limits for herself for so many reasons. Didn’t mean Phillip didn’t keep trying.
Sure enough, Phillip eyed her closer. “You have a standing invitation to explore.”
Erin tilted her head to the side. “You trying to talk me into walking on the Wild side again, Phil? I do love your determination.” She lifted her glass in salute and turned her back, facing into the room to observe what was happening.
The gathering this evening was smaller than it would be later in the holiday season, but enough people strolled the bar to make watching interesting. Dancing, flirting, mischief—a little of everything.
More than a few eyes turned her direction, gazes lingering on her legs, her breasts. She would readily admit she enjoyed being admired, but there was nothing else to entice her tonight to do more than observe the crowd.
The man to her right leaned in closer. “Can I buy you a drink?”
She indicated her glass. “Already have one, thanks.”
He held his beer bottle in the air to match hers. “Then, bottoms up.”
The guy was so darn earnest Erin wanted to laugh, at least until he snuck a hand around her uninvited, talking loudly as he introduced himself.
Erin glanced wordlessly at Phillip.
Phillip motioned with his head, and a moment later a bouncer was there, gently guiding her next-door drinker and his buddy to a private table. The offer of preferential treatment distracted them even as they were conducted away.
Erin leaned on the bar, amused by the interaction. “Am I causing problems, Phillip?” she asked.
He shrugged. “You would enjoy yourself a lot more upstairs than down here pushing my patrons’ buttons for whatever small edge it knocks off your itch.”
The judgmental assessment was unexpected. She twisted on her stool and took him in, his unreadable eyes examining her silently until she had to look away. “My body, my choice.”
There was nothing she could say more powerful—that they’d established the first time he’d proposed she might like to join the private section of his club. She knew what went on upstairs. Knew it too well, and had rejected it thoroughly.
Timothy.
The fact that she’d chosen to come here tonight of all nights suddenly disgusted her. Another example of her having lost her spine the instant the man stepped into her territory.
This had been a bad idea from the start. She picked up her purse. “Thanks for the drink. I think I’ll call it a night.”
Phillip’s classic control wavered. “But you just—” He glanced over her shoulder, and his expression broke into a smile. “—must meet someone before you go.”
Out of nowhere a sense of complete dread struck. What were the odds? How was it possible? But she was nearly positive before she’d seen the proof.
Her bar stool was slowly rotated until she looked into the deepest of sky-blue eyes matched by the sexiest smile.
“Of all the gin joints, right?” Tim drawled. “You’re looking lovely, kitten.”
A shiver rolled up her arm as he took her hand and delicately lifted it to his lips. When he paused, waiting for permission, she knew what she had to say. What she had to do.
Get the hell out of there. Run. Hide. Do anything but dip her chin slightly and give the man permission.
She should have known he couldn’t simply arrive and throw her world into a whirlwind. The dark blue dress shirt he wore lay open at the collar, the colour complementing his deep tan. The scruff that had covered his chin earlier in the day was shaved clean, so clean she wanted to rub against his skin to test the satiny smoothness. His hair was slightly unruly as if he’d recently dragged a hand through it, or crawled out of bed after hours of sweaty sex . . .
. . . and this was not where she wanted her brain to go. Not really. Tim didn’t help her stick to platonic thoughts, though, as he slowly rotated her hand until her palm lay upward. Then he gently kissed the inside of her wrist.
There was no way anyone could have missed her reaction. The entire damn bar might have shaken along with her body.
“I take it you two know each other?” Phillip didn’t try to hide his amusement.
Tim didn’t let her go, but simply answered the question without taking his gaze from where it was fixed on Erin’s face. “We’ve met a time or two.”
“I was just inviting Erin to come upstairs for a visit.” It was clear Phillip was delighted by the turn of events. “Perhaps you can entice her to join us.”
Erin reached deep and broke the spell Timothy was weaving. She shifted until she slid off the stool, her high-heeled boots landing on either side of his leg. The bare skin of her inner thighs brushed roughly against the stiff fabric of his dark black jeans.
“Thanks, but you’ll have to take Tim for a tour on your own.” She stepped around him, ignoring the urge to rub wantonly. There was only one solution to the situation. Diversion and distraction. “I have someone waiting for me.”
* * *
Tim twisted to watch as she worked her way across the floor to where a couple of men were seated in a private booth.
“Well done,” Phillip goaded him. “I’ve never seen anyone get her feathers ruffled in that short a time before.”
Tim ignored the rebuke and focused on the priorities. “Does she know them?”
“No.”
Great. He’d pushed her into someone else’s arms for the night. He fought the grumble of possessiveness that suggested he storm across the room and relocate the man’s nose up his ass. Erin slipped onto the seat next to one stranger and cozied in tight.
Tim deliberately faced Phillip. “Erin’s a regular, then. Does she ever play?”
The other man shook his head. “Told me she wasn’t interested in anything more than people watching and enjoying what she could safely get down here. I enjoy having her around, and the locals like her. She’s smart and sassy, and doesn’t take shit from anyone.”
“But she never goes upstairs, and she never goes home with anyone,” Tim guessed.
“You’re good,” Phillip admitted. “No. Most locals come for the views and the drinks, not the entertainment offered upstairs.”
A sense of something he could have called happiness hit Tim hard at the news that Erin wasn’t a regular among The Wild’s more specific clientele. “I’ll take a pass on the tour tonight.”
Phillip smiled shrewdly. “You staying in town, then?”
“I’ll be around. Don’t know if I’ll be doing more than stopping for a drink.”
His friend’s gaze surveyed the main bar again, lingering where Erin was located. “If you’re planning on getting involved with her, I can see your sense of danger hasn’t diminished over the years.”
Tim tipped his head slightly. “It’s not about the risk, Phillip. She’s the one that got away, and I intend to fix my mistakes, for both our sakes.”
“Good luck with that.” Phillip gestured toward the room. “Your mark is leaving.”
Tim slipped a business card over the counter toward his friend. “Get in touch. We’ll have dinner and get caught up for real. Excuse me while I run.”
Phillip took the card with a laugh. “You’re not going to be simply running, my friend. I hope you’re ready for an all-out sprint.”
By the time Tim twisted toward where he’d last seen Erin, she’d made it to the door. One of the men from the table had an arm tucked around her as he attempted to help her one-handed with her wrap.
The first ideas that rushed Tim weren’t pretty, until he looked a little closer and noticed that though the guy was touching her, Erin’s body remained stiff, maintaining air space between them even as she smiled and teased. And when she glanced toward Tim and their eyes met briefly, it strengthened his conviction that her little flirtation was a ploy.
He sauntered toward the door, not wanting to spook her all over into making a decision she’d regret. If she wanted to go home with some stranger, that was her choice. Having her go home with the ass just to make a point to Tim would be wrong.
Only, on the other side of the door his assumptions were justified. The guy who’d escorted Erin stood against the wall, frustration on his face.
There was no sign of Erin.
Tim leaned next to the guy, offering a lighter when the man fumbled in his pockets, a cigarette dangling from his lips. “Troubles?” Tim asked.
The guy lit the smoke gratefully before pointing down the street. “My evening’s entertainment took a phone call, then disappeared,” he grumbled. “She’s a doctor, can you believe it? Had to run to the hospital for some kind of emergency.”
“Bummer,” Tim answered in agreement, which was better than smacking the guy a hard one for considering any woman, not just Erin, his “evening’s entertainment.” “The night is young, though.”
The man nodded. “Yeah.”
Tim left him holding up the building and paced the sidewalk, turning his collar up against the strong wind that had risen since he’d entered the bar. A Chinook was brewing, the strong winds from the west that could change the temperatures from below freezing to summertime heat in only hours. Ice crystals stung his skin as the wind howled past.
Erin was nowhere to be seen, but instead of tracking her he headed to his new home. The hunt had only begun, and there weren’t many places she could hide. Not when she really wanted to be found.
Now he had to convince her of that.
CHAPTER 4
She’d slept horribly after ditching her “date” outside the bar. Not only were her dreams filled with heated and sweaty memories involving her and a certain blue-eyed devil, but in the sleepless moments between fitful tossing and turning, Erin felt guilty for deceiving the nameless guy from the bar into thinking she was interested in him.
She couldn’t even blame that on Tim, even though she wanted to, badly. It was her own fault because he hadn’t forced her to act the fool—and there was that word again.
Maybe she’d better get Alisha a pager so she could provide instant responses for help, like an AA sponsor. “Hi, my name is Erin, and I’m addicted to a guy who’s no good for me. I’ve stayed clean for nearly seven years.”
The midday call-out for a rescue was a welcome diversion in spite of the tiredness in her body.
All around Lifeline headquarters the team hurried to gather gear. Devon and Alisha worked in the storage room as Tripp shouted a list of supplies at them. Erin shrugged on a warmer jacket and gloves before dodging around their winch man, Anders.
“It’s too early in the season for an accident at the ski hill,” Anders complained. “There’s been no time for the snowpack to build for avalanche conditions.”
Marcus shook his head. “Details coming once you’re in the air—but it’s not an avalanche. The gondola lift is out, and has been for the last three hours.”
People had been stuck on the gondola for three hours? Not good.
“I’m going to warm her up,” Erin shouted over her shoulder a second before sliding through the doors into the icy-cold air.
Over the past twenty-four hours the Alberta weather had lived up to its volatile reputation, changeable to the extreme. Erin was grateful the Chinook winds that had blasted through last night were over. They’d shaken the town up, rushing past and dragging temperatures up.
But this morning a low-pressure ridge had turned everything around. It was cold, but calm enough that she could fly. The frigid temperatures meant other concerns, and she began checklist procedures for liftoff, contacting the local airfield with the word that they’d need clearance soon.
Marcus stuck his head in the door as she worked through systems. “No need to stop at the hospital to pick up a paramedic,” he announced.
She finished three more adjustments before glancing his way, horrified suspicion growing. “Why not?”
“There’s more than enough in place already. They have a full SAR contingent on the hill, only they’re having issues getting at the gondolas suspended over the extreme slopes. That’s where you come in.”
Relief that he hadn’t called Tim in was far too strong. She really needed to get over herself. “Got it. Now let me do my job.”
“Break a leg,” Marcus shouted, closing her in and letting her concentrate.
In a short time the team was in place and Erin lifted off, the low buzz of her headset speakers familiar and calming. Her physical response was always like this in the early moments of a mission. Having to start flying immediately ensured there was no time for the butterflies to get rolling before she had to be on the job and focused.
Tripp turned on the general speakers so he could talk to everyone on the chopper. He’d taken the passenger seat at her side, the rest of them belted into the back where they had jumper seats and stretcher space if needed.
“Everyone comfy?” Tripp asked. He got a chorus of affirmation from the crew before heading into the details. “Ski patrol and search-and-rescue trainees have been working since ten A.M. That storm that blew through last night did a hell of a job on the hill.”
“Did you say the gondola is stuck?” Alisha asked. “Why don’t they use the emergency generator to get it emptied?”
Erin wondered that as well. She glanced over the passing snowfields. The surface was partially covered by the recent heavy snowfall, but more spots than usual were exposed to the tree line by the strong winds they’d experienced.
“It’s too dangerous. Two of the towers supporting the aerial cables have lost structural integrity, and they’re afraid to move anything past them.”
“Damn, that kind of breakdown seems impossible,” Devon said. “I’d assume they do all sorts of testing before opening for the season.”
“It’s not a disaster they could have planned for,” Tripp explained. “They had a power outage about an hour after the gondola was already ferrying passengers up to the hill. Nothing too unusual—figured some water from last night’s storm got into one of the electrical lines and shorted the system. That they could deal with fairly simply. They switched
to emergency power, like you suggested, Alisha, and had started to empty out the passengers when one of the gondola operators hit the panic button and shut the whole thing down again. He was watching a cabin rise toward him over the steepest section when the entire tower and gondola listed sharply to the right.”
“Scary.” Alisha looked out the window. “So they turned everything off and . . . what? Have been evacuating the old-fashioned way ever since?”
“The extremely wet fall we had, in combination with last night’s Chinook winds, weakened the support base of a couple strategic towers. Too much water got worked into cracks in the rocks from the softened snow. Trees shifting in the wind, that kind of thing. Add in the sharp cold snap—conditions were primed to break a section of the cliff away. There were two small landslides this morning when temperatures dropped. Unfortunately, they happened after the lift was already full, so yeah. All the cabins need to be emptied.”
“Any trees on the gondola support lines?”
“Nothing, just the danger caused by the posts. Trees on lines they can deal with, but one tower has lost the base under a full foot and the top is threatening to break away. They can’t run the backup generator and do an orderly evacuation, not with that potential disaster.”
“Damn, and the temperature keeps dropping, doesn’t it?” Devon asked.
Erin shivered even as she stayed en route for the hill. Three hours was a long time to have no heat, or a way to move to stay warm.
“The ski patrol have been evacuating all the people they could on the sections that are low enough, but they don’t want to attempt the areas over the ravines.”
“Those drops are steep.” Anders cut in. “Are we winching them down?”
“If the wind stays low so Erin can put you in place, yes. We’ll go in pairs, partnering up with some of their people as well. The hill has all the backup ground support in place—we just need to get the people out of the gondolas they’ve been trapped in for the last three hours.”
Erin joined the conversation. “I can handle the flying, only let me know if we’re extracting them or dropping them to bugout positions.”
