by Sarah Morgan
She clasped her hands in front of her to stop them shaking. ‘All right.’ She accepted the inevitable. Perhaps if she had one conversation with him on his terms, he’d drop the subject. ‘You keep saying that you were in love with me and yet that can’t possibly be true.’
He lifted a dark eyebrow. ‘Because?’
‘Because you didn’t come after me.’ She curled her fingers into her palms. ‘If you really loved me that much, why didn’t you come after me?’
He inhaled sharply. ‘Because what you needed most was space. You felt crowded and pressured. By the miscarriage and by me. You were panicking, Jules.’
She stared at him. ‘You knew that?’
He gave a wry smile. ‘Of course I knew that. So I made up my mind to give you that space. It made sense. But it all went wrong, didn’t it?’
She bit her lip, her gaze tormented. ‘I was due to go to Everest with Dan that spring, but I was so messed up after I lost the baby. And he died…’ She closed her eyes briefly, feeling the guilt so acutely that she could hardly breathe. ‘Because of me, he died.’
Finn swore softly and dragged her into his arms. ‘He did not die because of you. You’re not responsible for your brother’s death.’
She looked up at him, her eyes swimming with pain. ‘If I’d been there I could have made him more careful. I always did.’
Finn stroked the hair away from her face with a gentle hand. ‘You couldn’t have changed him. Dan was always wild.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Even wilder than you.’
‘He developed cerebral oedema up at Camp IV but no one recognised it.’ Juliet pulled away from Finn, half talking to herself. ‘They just thought he was being Dan. No one stopped him going higher.’
‘It’s easy to miss the signs. Up there in the Death Zone, you don’t have energy for yourself, let alone anyone else. Your brain is slowly dying—everything becomes more difficult. Thinking, moving, co-ordinating your body. It’s so easy for people to stand at sea level and judge us, but up there it’s a different world. You know that, Jules. The body behaves differently and so does the brain.’
Juliet shivered.
The Death Zone.
The name given by climbers to the very extremes of altitude where the human body starts to deteriorate, eating away at its own muscle and bone in a desperate struggle for survival.
‘If I’d been there, it might have been different.’ Her voice was hoarse as she finally voiced thoughts that she’d never shared before. ‘We were always the careful ones, you and I. He was always the daredevil.’
‘He was an adult and he made his own choices.’ Finn’s fingers tightened on her arms, as if by his grip alone he could pass some of his strength to her. ‘You and I being there wouldn’t have changed anything, Jules.’
She shook her head and closed her eyes briefly. ‘You don’t know that. It might have done. I would have been there with him but I was wrapped up in myself and the baby. I wasn’t thinking about him.’ She swallowed and rubbed her fingers over her forehead. ‘I have dreams. He’s falling and I can’t catch him…’
Finn let out a long breath. ‘Guilt is part of grieving, you know that, sweetheart. But there was nothing you could have done. And there’s nothing you can do now.’ He paused. ‘And it isn’t going to bring him back if you die on this mountain.’
She rubbed her eyes and pulled away from him. ‘I’m not going to die up here. On the contrary, I want to make it a safer place. I want to be here when people get sick so that I can get them down before they die. I want to stop other families suffering the way mine has.’
Finn let out a long breath. ‘You chose to specialise in high-altitude medicine because of Dan and your father, I know that.’
‘I’ve lost two people I love to the mountains,’ Juliet said, her voice dull as she wandered to the edge of the tent. ‘And it all seems such a pointless waste.’ She threw her head back and stared up at the menacing tumble of ice that stood guard over the base of Everest. It had a raw, vicious beauty that caught the breath and stopped the heart. ‘And then you come here and you see all this and you understand.’
Finn nodded. ‘It’s addictive. Pure. Man against nature. Up here life’s trivial, problems cease to matter. It’s all about survival. Man and the mountain. The ultimate challenge.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I loved Dan, too, you know that, but that didn’t make me blind to the man he was. He was wild and difficult at the best of times. If he didn’t want to descend, there was no one on this earth who could have made him do it. Not you or me.’
‘I’d rather we didn’t talk about it any more. It’s over.’
And she wanted to lock the grief away again.
Finn studied her in silence and then he stirred. ‘But it’s not over,’ he said slowly. ‘He’s the reason you refuse to get involved with anyone. He’s the reason you don’t have a personal life. So it’s far from over.’
Why wouldn’t he let the subject drop? Why?
‘I have a perfectly satisfactory personal life. I admit I’m pretty nomadic, but climbers usually are. You know that. You’re the same.’
‘And I think we must be completely crazy.’ He ran a hand over the back of his neck and gave a wry smile. ‘I used to look at you when you were only eight, climbing like a pro. Just like your damned brother. We were all a bit crazy, weren’t we?’
‘Try being the child of two explorers. My whole family was crazy,’ she muttered, and he gave a humourless laugh.
‘Yes, you certainly didn’t have the most conventional upbringing.’
‘I used to think that traveling across Antarctica and climbing high mountains was what every dad did,’ she said lightly. ‘So when my brother started climbing the 8000-metre peaks, it just seemed normal. My family spent their whole time challenging nature and risking death. I lost my dad on Annapurna and then I lost Dan on Everest.’ She broke off and swallowed hard. ‘Let’s just say I’ve seen firsthand how climbing can wreck families. Even those who understand the need to climb.’
There was a long silence and then he finally spoke. ‘And that’s why you ran out on me, wasn’t it? Because you were afraid of love?’
‘If I hadn’t got pregnant, you never would have asked me to marry you and I wouldn’t have said yes,’ she said simply. ‘There are some people who just shouldn’t get married, and I’m one of them. And you’re another.’
‘That’s rubbish.’
‘No.’ She lifted her head and her eyes sparked. ‘It isn’t rubbish, Finn. I’ve lost two people I love in the mountains already and I have to live with that agony every single day. And I’ve watched my mother live with the same pain. People like us shouldn’t fall in love and we shouldn’t get married. It’s a selfish, deadly pastime and it isn’t compatible with family life.’
‘And it’s that simple?’ He looked at her with ill-concealed frustration. ‘Love isn’t something that you just switch on and off, Jules. You don’t decide when to fall in love. It just happens when you meet the right person.’
She felt emotions stir inside her and shut them all down with her usual determination and a stubborn lift of her chin. ‘If you don’t look for love, you won’t find it.’
‘You mean if you run hard enough it just might not catch you up.’ He looked at her in silence and then shook his head. ‘For a brave woman, you’re a real coward, do you know that? You’ll risk life and limb on Everest but you won’t put your heart on the line.’
Something twisted inside her. ‘That’s my decision.’
‘Tell me something, Jules.’ Finn’s gaze was steady on her face. ‘Did you have a horrible childhood?’
She stared for a moment and then she gave a faint smile. ‘You know I didn’t.’
‘Tell me what it was like. How it felt.’
She shrugged. ‘Exciting.’ She gave a soft smile. ‘Amazing. Unconventional.’
‘Were you happy? Did you feel loved?’
She looked at him in surprise. ‘Of course. We were a very close family.’
‘And that’s what’s important.’ His voice was soft. ‘You’re looking for ways of making life totally safe and predictable. You’re looking for guarantees and there aren’t any. Your dad could have been a librarian but he still could have died, Jules. He could have been run over. He could have had a heart attack. Life just doesn’t come with guarantees, which is all the more reason to live it the way you want to live it. That’s what your dad did, and that’s what Dan did.’
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. ‘And what about the people left behind? What about them?’
‘It’s tough. But when you marry a person, you marry all of them. Including their dreams. Climbing is part of who we are but we can minimise the risks. And that’s what you’re doing here as a doctor, you’ve already admitted that. It’s why you chose high-altitude medicine as your specialty. It’s about minimising the risks, isn’t it? Spotting problems and educating other people to recognise warning signs. Teaching people not to treat these mountains lightly. It’s about doing what you have to do as safely as possible. And then getting on with the rest of your life.’
‘I am getting on with my life.’
‘I wasn’t marrying you because you were pregnant, Jules.’ His voice was deep and very male. ‘I was marrying you because I was in love with you. And you were in love with me, too.’
She shook her head and lifted a hand defensively. ‘Not this again.’
‘If you hadn’t lost the baby we would have married and we would have been happy. If Dan hadn’t have died, I would have come after you and I would have told you how I felt.’ His mouth tightened. ‘But his death came between us. When I came to find you, you refused to see me.’
‘Because I was distraught.’ She spread her hands in a silent plea for understanding. ‘And seeing you reminded me of Dan. We did everything together. We were a three—’
He looked deep into her eyes. ‘And that’s why you sent me away? Because it was too painful? Not because you were afraid that the same thing might happen to me? Not because you loved me so much you were protecting yourself from yet another potential loss?’
Her heart bolted into the distance. ‘No. No.’
He studied her face for a long moment. ‘I loved you, Jules. And you loved me.’
The breath jammed in her throat. ‘I didn’t feel anything. We were friends, Finn, and we never should have been anything more.’
‘Really?’ He lifted an eyebrow. ‘That’s interesting, because it certainly isn’t how I remember it. That night we made love…’ His voice dropped an octave. ‘Tell me you don’t think about it every single day.’
She gave a soft gasp and her colour rose. ‘Finn—’
‘That wasn’t friendship, Jules. That was love. Passion.’
She covered her ears with her hands and shook her head. ‘It was just sex.’
‘You were a virgin. You didn’t do “just sex”.’
‘I was young. My hormones were on fire. That’s all it was and I’m sorry if that hurts you but it’s the truth.’ Her heart was thundering with panic and she turned to walk away from him but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
‘Stop running.’
She jerked her body away from his. ‘We’ve been honest and talked, which is what you wanted. We’ve talked about Dan. We’ve talked about the reason we were getting married. That’s it. None of it matters any more.’
His eyes glittered dangerously. ‘No?’ He reached out and grabbed the front of her thin top, bringing her hard against him. ‘You don’t think this matters? You think I was going to marry you because I was too much of a gentleman to break it off? Well, let’s find out just how polite I really am, shall we?’
Juliet felt the rock-solid muscle of his thighs pressed hard against hers, felt the thundering beat of her own heart against her chest, and then he slid his hands around her cheeks and held her face still for his kiss.
She felt the tension mount between them, felt the chemistry sizzle and crackle to life, and then his mouth came down on hers, hot, demanding and merciless.
There was nothing gentle about the kiss, nothing tentative or seeking. It was a full-blown sensual assault designed to drive logical thought from her brain.
Stunned and taken off guard, Juliet lifted her hands to push him away but instead she found herself pulling him closer, asking wordlessly for more.
And he gave her more.
With a harsh groan he dragged the cap from her head and slid his fingers into her hair, his kiss as savage and wild as their surroundings, as if he realised that this could be the last kiss that either of them ever experienced.
And she kissed him back, caught in the grip of such excitement that she couldn’t help but respond. Her heart flew, the blood pumped around her body and she felt light-headed and dizzy.
Using only the skill of his mouth, he took her breath, her resolve and her ability to think clearly.
She felt the rough scrape of masculine stubble against the sensitive flesh of her cheek, felt the erotic slide of his tongue against hers and the seductive caress of his hands as they slid down her back and pulled her firmly against him.
And Juliet was lost.
For her there was no past and no future. No people and no mountain. No tragedy and no loss.
There was only this man and what he did to her.
And then he released her, his breathing harsh and unsteady as he stepped backwards. For a long moment their eyes held and the chemistry continued to sizzle and buzz. And then he gave a faint smile and his hands dropped to his sides.
‘That’s how much of a gentleman I am, Jules.’
And without giving her time to answer, he walked out of the tent, leaving her to sink to the floor of the tent in a boneless heap, staring after him, shaken and stunned.
CHAPTER SIX
HE SHOULDN’T have kissed her.
Finn lay in the relative privacy of his tent with his eyes firmly closed. But closing his eyes did nothing to relieve the throbbing, nagging ache that burned through his body.
He remembered her face, soft and flushed with passion. He remembered the warmth of her mouth and the tiny little gasps she’d made as he’d kissed her senseless.
He remembered her soft, slender curves pressed against his harder frame and just how hard he’d fought to stop himself from ripping off her combat trousers and taking her hard and fast on the floor of the tent without any regard for their surroundings.
Acknowledging just how close he’d come to losing control, he covered his face with his hand and cursed softly.
He’d spent the best part of ten years trying to put her out of his mind and now he’d blown it.
It was ironic, he reflected without a trace of vanity, that women threw themselves at him wherever he went, and yet the only woman who had ever really stirred his blood ran in the opposite direction.
They’d been best friends for most of their lives and yet never, not once in the whole of their relationship, had she ever told him that she loved him.
And maybe she didn’t. In any case, it was irrelevant, he mused wearily, because she had erected such solid protection round her heart and her feelings that no one had access. And it was time he stopped kidding himself that he could break down those barriers. It was time he stopped dreaming.
Juliet was never going to make herself that vulnerable. If she loved him she was never going to admit it to herself, let alone him.
And maybe she didn’t love him.
Maybe she was right. Maybe the sex had been all about youth and hormones.
Maybe he’d imagined the incredible connection between them.
He sat up and gave a humourless laugh as he analysed the situation. Wasn’t it men who were supposed to be afraid of commitment? Men who were supposed to be allergic to love?
And that was part of the attraction, he acknowledged. Juliet was totally different to the rest of her sex and always had been. At eight years old, when her friends had been playing with dolls, she’d been out clim
bing sheer rockfaces with her big brother. While her friends had dreamed of clothes, make-up and boy-friends, she’d dreamed of mountains and snow and untouched horizons.
She was wild and passionate and fearless when it came to testing herself physically, but when it came to relationships…
He stared out of his tent at the harsh, forbidding terrain and let out a long breath. When it came to relationships, Juliet Adams was nothing short of a disaster.
She avoided emotional attachments and ran a mile from commitment, but that was all part of the woman and part of the reason that he had always found her totally irresistible.
He loved her wild, unpredictable nature, her strength and her vulnerability, and he loved a challenge. And Juliet presented the biggest challenge that he was ever likely to find.
He needed to forget her, he told himself firmly, gathering up his water bottles to take them to the mess tent.
Juliet and love didn’t go together.
He’d climb this damn mountain and then move on.
The next day they held a puja, a traditional Sherpa ceremony to ask the gods for their blessing to climb the mountain. Without this, none of the Sherpas would be prepared to go any further and, in preparation, they’d spent the best part of a day shifting stones to build an altar.
Juliet stood alone at the edge of the circle of people, listening to the chant of the Buddhist priest, the lama, who sat cross-legged on an old mat in the middle of a large rock. Occasionally he broke off to throw flour and rice high into the air as a gift to the gods.
She loved this ceremony and she respected their culture. To them the mountain was sacred and had to give her permission for them to be on her slopes. It would be bad luck to climb without a successful puja.
Branches of juniper crackled and burned in the fire and she stood absorbing the scene, her mind totally distracted.
All she could think about was Finn. Their conversation. And the way he’d kissed her.
