Extreme Limit

by Kendall Talbot

  Kelli released a cute moaning sound before she skied away, heading toward the main resort building.

  “What’s the plan?” He rubbed his gloves together.

  “Would you like to take the green three-mile or do the longer blue run on the west slope?”

  “I liked the blue.”

  “Me too.”

  They turned and skied down to the chairlift in unison. Their turn on the lift came quickly, and as her feet left the ground Oliver draped his arm across her shoulder, and she pulled down the safety bar and nestled in beside him.

  The sun had almost set and their view from the chairlift spanned the entire west face of the mountain. Brilliant orange and pink hues bounced off the low-lying clouds and reflected in the snow, creating a perfect postcard setting.

  “This’s magnificent.” Oliver read her mind.

  “It’s the best time of the day.”

  At the top, they jumped off the chair, skied to the side, and paused with their masks pulled up to admire the stunning panorama. It was fairy tale perfection as the setting sun bounced off the scattering of clouds and filled the sky with a potpourri of oranges and purples.

  “Wow, check out that sunset.” Oliver’s magnificent smile added to her already glorious view.

  But, for the umpteenth time, the venom of deceit snaked through her. When Oliver turned to her, he may have sensed her turmoil, because the dancing pleasure that’d been in his eyes seconds ago morphed to concern.

  He reached for her hand and his eyes softened like he knew exactly what was troubling her. A thread of desire ran through her. She inched closer and clasped his hand tighter and he leaned in, head tilted, lips parted, and when he closed his eyes, she closed hers too. Their lips met and every ounce of concern evaporated when she melted into him.

  His kiss was brief, way too brief, and every part of her ached for more. That moment confirmed what she already knew: she was falling in love.

  She had never thought she’d have that pleasure again. She’d always thought Milton would be her one and only, and when that’d shattered to a million pieces, she’d believed she was destined to be alone forever. But now, standing on top of a mountain with a man who made her heart sing, she was tempted to believe that she’d been wrong.

  Except he didn’t even know her real name.

  That horrible detail had caused her countless sleepless nights. Oliver had been incredibly patient with her. Never pressing when she failed to elaborate on one of her quirky requests. He deserved her honesty, and as much as it terrified her to admit her deceit, she couldn’t deny him any longer. She just hoped he’d still look at her with desire in his eyes once the truth was out.

  Oliver playfully smacked her bottom. “Race you to the bend.” He launched off the leveled-out snow and became airborne over a gentle mound.

  “You little shit.” Laughing, she pushed off and raced after him. It seemed a day of skiing was all he needed to perfect his skills. Oliver looked like a professional.

  On a mission to catch him, Amber didn’t sashay from side to side. Instead, she shoved off, rammed her poles into the snow a few times then tucked them up under her elbows, squatted down, and let momentum do the work. It was the same move she’d done on the day of the storm, except instead of being filled with dread, this time she was filled with exhilaration.

  Oliver glanced over his shoulder and she heard his deep, throaty laugh as he drove the poles into the snow over and over in an attempt to increase his speed.

  She shot right past him. “Come on, slow poke.” Her heart pounded with both adrenaline and a delightful throb for him. Not just him, but everything he represented: stability, security, comfort, fun, and, most of all, passion.

  At the bend in the ski run, she slowed and arced gracefully into a turn that flicked up a wave of snow. Oliver was seconds behind her. He reached out for her, but misjudged his distance. Their skis tangled, and as he wrapped his arms around her, they collapsed, laughing onto the soft snow.

  “Well, that didn’t exactly go as planned.” He chuckled. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “I think you’d say that even if I’d broken your leg.”

  She giggled. “Probably.”

  He reached around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. She rolled toward him, nestling into the crook of his shoulder and inhaling his spiced cologne. Delicate snowflakes floated onto them like sifted icing. The snow was cold on her back, yet she’d be happy to stay right there in his arms forever. She ached to stroke her hands over the muscles she felt beneath his padded ski jacket.

  When their plumes of breath began to settle, he removed a glove and placed his soft palm on her cheek. “Don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

  Her heart swelled at his nonchalance over touching her hideous scar. “Me too, but we can’t stop yet. We’re not even halfway down.”

  “Let’s get going then. I can hear a warm fire and a cold beer calling.” When he withdrew his arm, she was dizzy with a want that’d eluded her for years.

  She’d fallen into a powerful spell, and it was wonderful to be there.

  They clipped their wayward skis back on and pushed off again. But this time they took it slow, gliding from side to side in synchronized turns like they’d being skiing together since they were kids.

  The sun had disappeared behind the trees and nightfall was making its presence. They took turns going over small jumps that would have them airborne for a second or two, then Oliver led the way through a short track he’d spied through the towering trees.

  It was the most fun she’d had in years, and she was disappointed when she paused over a rise and saw the resort in the near distance. Hundreds of twinkling lights outlined the building, and wisps of smoke trailed from the stone chimney and absorbed into the surrounding darkness.

  As they approached, subtle music from speakers hidden somewhere within the snowcapped hedges filled the alpine silence. They glided right up the steps, removed their skis, and climbed up to the foyer. The warmth hit her like a balmy cloud and she wrestled her skis to one arm so she could remove her beanie. Kelli waved hello from reception but the mischievous grin on her face indicated she wanted to say so much more.

  People were everywhere, and based on the excited banter, every single one of them was having a wonderful time. After shoving their equipment into their lockers, she unzipped her suit and pulled off her gloves.

  Oliver strolled toward her, rubbing his stomach. “I’m famished. Does the restaurant do takeout?”

  “I have no idea.” She’d always brought her own meals, and today was no exception.

  “Well, let’s go ask. I’d rather sit by the fire at home than in here.”

  Amber’s heart sang a beautiful melody at Oliver’s comment. She loved that he’d called it home, and she’d also love nothing more than to sit around the fire with him.

  Just him.

  The bar was overflowing. Based on the raucousness, some people had been drinking there for hours. They walked past the bar and approached one of the restaurant staff. To her delight, not only did they do takeout, but they also offered to deliver it to her cabin when it was ready. They placed their orders: spaghetti Bolognese and garlic bread for Oliver and vegetable lasagna for her. After thanking the staff, they headed toward the exit.

  Outside, radiant moonlight gave the snow an incandescent aura, and fresh snow like moonlit crystals fell upon them in a mystical dance. Their shoes crunching in the snow was the only sound. Oliver offered his hand, she clenched his palm to hers, and they set off toward the cabin as a couple. The moon was an enormous beacon, startling in contrast to its black velvet surroundings. It seemed extraordinarily close, and she could easily see hundreds of craters pockmarking its luminous surface.

  At the cabin they stripped out of their padded ski gear and she told him to make himself comfortable while she showered. She cut her normally long shower brief, then pulled on leggings, a long-sleeved sweater, and pink soc
ks that had a cat knitted into the pattern, complete with ears and whiskers. She was embarrassed to wear them and annoyed at herself for not thinking to pack anything else, but she’d been bringing the same clothes up here for months.

  When she emerged from the bathroom, Oliver had the fire going and had filled two long-stemmed glasses to the top.

  “I hope you drink champagne.”

  “Sounds lovely.”

  “I brought red and white wine too. And port.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure what your preference was.”

  She chuckled. “Champagne is fine.” Their fingers touched as he handed her the glass, and her stomach fluttered. When their eyes met, she sensed he wanted to say something. He probably had a thousand questions, yet he’d resisted. His patience had her falling for him by the second.

  “Okay.” He dragged his eyes away. “Well, take a seat and I’ll get showered too.”

  She sank into the corner of the sofa, curled her feet to the side, and watched Oliver pluck clothes from his bag. He gave her one last grin before he dashed to the bathroom.

  Amber sipped her bubbles and stared into the dancing flames, accepting the warmth in the room like it was a welcoming hug. She was the most settled she’d been in years, and yet at the same time her mind was a battleground as she tried to strategize over how to tell her secrets.

  Oliver opened the door to the bathroom wearing just track pants. “Ah, that’s better.”

  When he ran his hand through his wet hair and strolled across the room to toss his clothes into his bag, she felt like she’d stepped onto the set of a sexy magazine shoot. She had to resist grumbling when he pulled a shirt over his torso.

  He collected his drink from the coffee table and held it toward her. “Cheers.”

  “Cheers.” They clinked their glasses, and as they each took a sip the front door chimed, signaling dinner had arrived.

  They ate their meals and chatted about their day, but the whole time Oliver studied her with his inquisitive eyes, yet he didn’t ask a single question.

  She couldn’t put this off a moment longer. Wouldn’t. It was time.

  Oliver made her heart swell with want and her soul feel safe.

  She just hoped that revealing all her rotten secrets wouldn’t scare him off.

  After dinner, they cleared away their plates and returned to the fire. Oliver refilled their glasses and sat at the opposite end of the lounge, his knee up so he faced her. The spice of his cologne drifted between them and she inhaled his fragrance. She’d come to love his scent. She’d come to love a whole lot more about him too. The curl of his lips just before he smiled. The crinkles next to his eyes that deepened when he laughed. The intensity in his eyes when he looked at her. And he did look at her—really truly look at her, like he was reaching into her mind.

  “Thank you for a wonderful day.” He placed his hand on her leg. “I haven’t had that much fun in years.”

  Her heart did a little dance. “I was thinking the same thing.” She curled her foot up and rubbed her toes beneath her sock, trying to get some feeling back in. Since the accident, she’d had trouble with circulation in her left foot.

  “Here, let me.” Oliver put his glass down, and she had no time to pull away as he reached for her foot.

  Before she knew what was happening, he began peeling off her sock. If he noticed the scar on her ankle, he didn’t indicate, but she braced for the moment he saw her toes. However, at the same time, she knew this was the moment she’d been waiting for.

  He gasped and his eyes flicked from her foot to her face. “My god. What happened?”

  She too stared at her foot. Even after all these years, she couldn’t get used to the absence of two toes.

  Oliver reached up and placed his hand on her upper thigh. “Amber, I can tell there are things you don’t want to talk about, but I’d like to know everything about you.”

  Little butterflies danced across her stomach at the sincerity in his eyes. “I don’t want to ruin our perfect day with my shitty story.”

  “It’s not going to ruin our day. I promise.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded, finally ready. “It’s a long story.”

  He reached over her thigh and grasped her hand. “Lucky for us then. We have an entire night. Not to mention loads of alcohol and a lovely fire.”

  He was right; there may never be a better time. Oliver released her hand and gently ran his knuckles up the instep of her foot. It was a caring sensuous movement and she sighed from his touch. It took a couple of thumping heartbeats before she found her voice. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  He tilted his head but remained silent. The time had come, and although she’d been dreaming of telling him for months, she still didn’t know where to start. She decided to get one of the biggest shocks out of the way. “Have you ever heard of Milton Ashcroft?”

  He frowned, but also nodded. “His name’s familiar, but…”

  “He was my fiancé.” She waited for his reaction, but there wasn’t one, so she continued. “Four years ago, Milton and I, and his son Kane, took a helicopter flight over the Canadian Rockies. The helicopter crashed—”

  “Oh, that’s where I know his name from. I remember now. It crashed into a crevice. Only one survivor.”

  She nodded. “Me.”

  The green in his lovely irises darkened but he remained silent.

  “I fell from the helicopter and landed on a ledge in the crevice. Milton did too…” As she fought the dimpling in her chin, Oliver continued to massage her foot in silence, displaying extraordinary patience.

  “Kane also fell from the helicopter, but he fell so deep into the crevice I never saw or heard him again.”

  “Was Milton alive?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea. He was on the other side of the crevice, about fifteen feet away, so I couldn’t reach him. He didn’t move, though, and there was blood on the snow.”

  “Oh jeez.”

  “You know what his last words to me were?”

  Oliver frowned and shook his head.

  “He asked me if I was having fun.” She shook her head.

  Oliver looked like he was as pained over Milton’s last words as she’d been when he’d said them.

  “But I wasn’t,” she clarified. “From the second I sat in the helicopter, I had this terrible feeling something bad was about to happen, but I couldn’t say anything.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because… death follows me, Oliver.” She blurted it out.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Death follows me. My whole life I’ve been surrounded by it. When I was four years old my little brother was born, but he died three weeks later from SIDS.”

  “Oh, Amber, that’s not—”

  She cut him off. “My dad died when I was nine. In a workplace accident.” She inhaled long and deep, ready to divulge the rest. “My best friend in college died in a freak Jet Ski accident. Even my first pet, Romper, died as a puppy.”

  Oliver reached for her hand and squeezed. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.”

  “Then Milton and Kane, and then my mother. See? Death—”

  “Your mother?”

  “Mom died when I was in the coma.”

  “You were in a coma?”

  She sighed. It was obvious she wasn’t explaining herself very well. She took a big gulp of champagne and huffed out a breath. “Sorry, there’s a lot to take in. I’ll start again.”

  “Hang on, let me grab that bottle. We need a top off.”

  He pushed off the couch, then bent over and kissed her on the lips. “Thank you.”

  She blinked up at him. “For what?”

  “For telling me. For trusting me.” A lovely smile curled his lips. “For being you.” He turned, and as she watched him stride to the fridge, she tried to catalogue all the retched events in her life into something that would make sense.

  He returned with the bottle and topped off the
glasses. “I can’t believe you can rock climb without two toes.”

  She chuckled. “It’s not that hard.”

  “I bet it’s not easy either.” He resumed his position on the couch and reached for her foot again. “Tell me about the crash.”

  She nodded. He’d obviously wanted some sort of order to her story. “Milton had decided that we’d do a mountain picnic.”

  “Sounds romantic.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Hardly. We had his son with us. He was seventeen and a spoiled brat.”

  “Seventeen?” His eyebrows bounced upward and she knew what he was thinking.

  “Milton was twice my age.”

  When Oliver didn’t comment she carried on. “Milton paid the pilot a ridiculous amount of money to take the helicopter to the western face of Whiskey Mountain so we could watch the sunset while we picnicked. It didn’t matter that the pilot said no one had landed a chopper there before. Milton just paid him more.”

  “That’s right. I remember there being a huge uproar about how stupid the pilot had been.”

  “Huh, was there?”

  He frowned at her. “You don’t remember?”

  “I was in a coma, but I’ll get to that. So, we took off and flew for just over half an hour, but while Milton and Kane looked to be having the time of their lives, I was petrified.”

  Oliver massaged her feet and toes. If he had any apprehension about her amputated digits, he didn’t show it.

  “We passed between these two rock towers.” She used her hands to demonstrate the pillars. “But the second we crossed to the other side; the wind hit us. The pilot couldn’t hold it and we fell from the sky like a brick. When we hit the ground, it opened a giant crevice and the helicopter fell into it.”

  “Jesus, Amber. I can’t imagine it. What happened then?”

  “Kane fell through the windshield. I can remember his screams like it was yesterday. But then I fell too. I thought I was dead, you know.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “No, I guess there aren’t too many people who would.”

  “You were so lucky.”

  Lucky? It was a thought-provoking word. If she was lucky, she wouldn’t have been in that helicopter crash.