12 Men for Christmas

by Phillipa Ashley

  She was completely confused. Half the time, he seemed to be giving her signals no woman could possibly misinterpret. Flirting with her outrageously, darting hungry looks at her that made her squirm with shame and desire.

  Then he’d challenge her and goad her, try to humiliate her in front of friends! Why did he suddenly have to turn so prickly…so defensive…as if he had something to fear from her, when really, it was she who was in danger from him.

  He could have asked her anything but this. Scuba dive with sharks, trek to the North Pole, date her dentist. She felt nauseous on the third rung of a ladder for goodness’ sake. And as for walking backward off a cliff…

  That night, she thought of phoning Suzanne, of getting the GP to explain that it wasn’t safe for her to go rappelling. Not with her fear of heights. Well, it would be as good as a doctor’s sick note. In fact, it would be a doctor’s sick note.

  So it went on for the next six nights. Should she? Shouldn’t she? She damn well wouldn’t. Yes, she damn well would. Then, in no time, it was Saturday morning, and Suzanne was knocking on the door of her flat, ready to take her to her fate.

  “Nice day for it after all,” Suzanne said as Emma sat, pale and silent, in the passenger seat of the doctor’s Volvo. “I was out on call in the small hours and was quite worried. It was so windy, I really did think we’d have to call the whole thing off.”

  Emma mumbled something polite and wound down the window for some air. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her face and a breeze that was now no more than fresh. Although it had rained and gusted hard all night, causing her to wake at every rattle of the windowpane, the showers had conveniently cleared away just before Suzanne had arrived. Conditions had rapidly become ideal for sunbathing, picnicking, or stepping over the edge of a cliff.

  She’d already spent half an hour at the base going over safety procedures with Suzanne. Her friend was so calm and matter-of-fact as she ran through the equipment and techniques, you’d have thought she was showing her how to operate the latest dishwasher.

  “I’d rather do this any day than have to present those photos to our lot,” Suzanne confessed as they reached the top of Stickle Crag. “Now, off you go. I’ll see you later.”

  “What do you mean?” cried Emma. “I thought you’d be here with me.”

  “You’ll be perfectly safe with Will and Bob. Someone needs to stay at the bottom, and I thought you’d feel happier with me there waiting for you.”

  “Oh,” she murmured, her legs already doing a fair imitation of a jelly on a warm day. “Aren’t you at least going to wish me luck?”

  Suzanne laughed. “Luck doesn’t come into it, Emma. We don’t rely on that, you’ll be pleased to know. Now get on up there, and try and enjoy yourself,” she called as she set off back down the fellside.

  Ahead of her, Emma could see the team practicing rescue techniques on the cliff edge. She paused for a moment to try and restore her shredded nerves. Her stomach rumbled alarmingly, and no wonder. She’d hardly had anything for breakfast and not much for supper the night before. A sudden ripple of breeze set the goose bumps prickling on her arms.

  Spread out in front of her was a scene that made her catch her breath. The lake plowing its shining furrow through the steep-sided valley and in the distance, the sea all but lost in the midmorning haze.

  She took a deep breath.

  “Pretty impressive, huh?” said a voice beside her.

  “Absolutely amazing.” Emma swallowed a lump in her throat that wasn’t inspired by the view. When she turned to look at Will, he was holding a harness that, she knew immediately, was meant for her.

  She shivered.

  “Are you OK?” he asked.

  She nodded, because her throat had gone dry.

  Once again, Will reflected as he regarded Emma trembling in front of him on the hillside, she was unsuitably dressed for the great outdoors. Her tight jeans and T-shirt would have been perfect for a shopping trip or a spot of gardening. But for rappelling? Come on. At least her walking boots were now respectably scuffed and muddy. It never ceased to amaze him that she could look so businesslike one minute and so casually sexy the next. He’d lain awake at night lately trying to decide which turned him on the most, but since he couldn’t think of a more enjoyable cause for insomnia, he didn’t worry too much about the lack of sleep.

  * * *

  Emma was terrified. Why, oh why, had she ever agreed to do this? Perhaps he might take pity on her. Perhaps he might take her aside and tell her she didn’t have to go through with it…

  “Emma,” he was telling her softly, “you don’t have to do this, you know. I shouldn’t have goaded you, and I apologize.”

  The way out—he’d presented it to her on a plate. All she had to do was say Thank you very much, Will. I’m very grateful to you for rescuing me. What do I owe you? It was tempting, but Emma forced herself to shake her head. She was determined to show Will just what she was made of, no matter what it took.

  “I’m fine, thanks. I’ve psyched myself up, and I’m going to do it. Let’s just get it over with, shall we?” Then she added, “Are you going down with me?”

  “Only if I absolutely have to,” he replied with a wicked grin that let her know just how he’d interpreted her innocent remark.

  “For goodness’ sake, let’s get on with it,” she pleaded.

  “OK, but it will help a lot if you try and relax. It really won’t be that bad.”

  He held up the harness. For one awful moment, she had a vision of a hangman’s noose, but his cheerful grin didn’t look too much like that of an executioner.

  “So it’s you I’ve got to trust?” she said through clenched teeth.

  “I’m afraid so. Your life is in my hands.”

  Her face told him it was an ill-advised joke.

  “OK. If you’re ready, let’s get you into the gear.” He bent down in front of her. “Step inside—no, not like that, like this.”

  Emma stepped into the loops of the webbed harness and allowed him to pull it up to her waist. Then he started doing up the straps, pulling them tight around her middle and thighs. He would have enjoyed the experience, but he could already feel her trembling. He marveled at her guts. Even though she must be terrified, she was going to go through with it. He wanted to hug her, but instead, he told himself he had to stay cool and detached.

  That was how he would have treated any novice, and he reminded himself that Emma was no different.

  “Is that strictly necessary?” She laughed nervously as he checked the straps around her thighs again. He gave the fasteners one last hard tug as he doubled them back.

  “Compulsory,” he said with a look so dark and sexy, her legs almost buckled. “Now put your helmet on.”

  As she did up the chin strap, he started to get into his own gear.

  “Wh…what are you doing?” she asked through clenched teeth.

  He stood up and looked at her with amusement. “Getting ready, just in case I’m forced to go down with you.” After a final check on both of their harness straps, he straightened up. “Give me your hand then.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can help you over the edge. It’s a bit…greasy.”

  Emma forced herself to look ahead to the cliffside. Bob, standing a few feet below them, waved cheerily at her.

  “What do you mean, a bit ‘greasy’?” she asked.

  “Just a bit damp on the ledge there after the rain. There’s some lichen and moss but nothing to worry about, not with your boots on.”

  Emma grasped his hand and shuffled forward.

  As he felt her fingers close around his, Will could feel the damage the adrenaline was doing. Her pulse was fluttering like a captive bird’s, giving him an intoxicating sense of power and responsibility.

  “Nothing can happen,” he said gently. “You’re rop
ed on to me and that big rock over there, so don’t worry.”

  “You’ll be fine, lass,” said Bob, smiling reassuringly at her. “Trust Will. He could do this with his eyes closed.”

  Will squeezed them shut and grinned. “What a good idea.”

  “Don’t joke!” cried Emma.

  Opening his eyes, Will smiled and led her gently forward to within a few feet of the edge.

  “I can’t do it,” she whispered through dry lips, seeing the sheer rock face and Suzanne, doll-like, at the bottom.

  “It’ll be fine. Like falling off a log,” said Will.

  As she risked another peep over the edge, Emma could feel the trail of sweat slithering down the back of her T-shirt. Her heart was banging away like an overloaded washing machine, and her stomach felt like it was on the spin cycle too.

  “How far, um…down is it?” she asked.

  “Fifty, sixty feet. Not far, but don’t think about that. Just keep your eyes on your feet, and let out the rope very slowly and steadily like Sue showed you.”

  Emma kept his hand in a viselike grip. “What if I slip or get stuck?”

  “We’ll have control of the rope up here. We can stop you instantly.”

  “P-Promise?”

  “Absolutely. Now, can you turn round?”

  Like an arthritic crab, she managed to shuffle her feet until her back was to the ledge. Knowing that a chasm was inches from her heels was almost overwhelming. Will still had her hand held tightly, and she focused on his face. At this moment, she didn’t care what he had done or to whom. Only that she trusted him.

  “Are you fit?” he asked.

  “I—I don’t think I can do this…”

  “Yes, you can,” he said firmly. “You’ve had the safety lecture, you know what to do, and most of all, we’re here for you. Now, gently lean backward into the harness.”

  “But that rope—it won’t take my weight.”

  “Yes, it will. It could take a bus and still not break.”

  “I’m not a bus.”

  “And you won’t fall. Now relax back…that’s it…”

  Emma was absolutely on the edge now. Her thighs were shaking with the tension as she crouched down in the harness and sank back into it. Beneath her feet, the rock was still wet from the rain. It was awkward, and the ledge was tilted slightly. As she leaned back even further, her feet slipped on the lichen, and suddenly she lurched sideways.

  “Will!”

  A moment later, her feet were scrabbling on the ledge again as Will hauled her back onto the cliff top. She grabbed a tissue from the pocket of her jeans and wiped her eyes, heart thudding.

  “It’s OK,” he soothed.

  “I told you I couldn’t do it,” she wailed.

  “You just overbalanced, that’s all,” he said, keeping her hand in his. “I told you it was bit greasy up here. Just take a bit of time to get your balance, and we’ll have another go. You’ve already done the worst bit, believe me. Emma, look at me. We’re going to do this.”

  A few minutes later, she was ready again. Aware of the slippery piece of rock, she leaned back into the harness again, trying to focus on Will and not the thin air behind her. Slowly, inch by inch, Will let the rope out and gently sent her over the edge.

  “Focus on feeding the rope through,” he called as she shuffled her feet down the rock face.

  Emma could hardly hear him. Her brain felt scrambled. It was difficult to describe the feeling. Her breathing seemed heavy, and every movement she made was very deliberate. The wind had started to gust a little. The slate loomed in front of her, dark and glistening from the rain. It was green with lichen in places. Green and slimy.

  The wind whipped a strand of hair from her helmet into her eyes. She heard a bird cry as it wheeled around the crag.

  Momentarily, she looked down. She was vaguely aware of Suzanne, but she seemed a long, long way away. Suddenly, a rush of nausea threatened to overwhelm her, just like when Jeremy had been leaning over the balcony at that party.

  Her fingers locked on to the rope, and she froze.

  Waiting above, Will felt the rope stop moving through the figure of eight. He paused, surprised to feel his heart beating faster. Something was wrong. Emma had been doing so well, so why had she stopped? What was the matter? Usually, when someone had found the courage, as she had done, to step over the edge, they had no trouble tackling the rest. But he had seen it happen before when he’d been instructing. Occasionally, people did get stuck halfway down and, he thought with a stab of guilt, she had been terrified. To do what she’d done with so much fear—most people would have scrapped it.

  “Emma, are you all right?” he called, seeing her halfway down the rockface, unmoving.

  There was no answer.

  He tried again. “Emma, can you get going again?”

  Usually, when novices got the jitters, he’d have waited a short time before taking any action, let them sort it out themselves and regain their confidence. But this wasn’t anyone.

  “I’m going to get her,” he told Bob.

  “Wait, lad. Give her more time.”

  Will hesitated. Bob was right and yet…it was his fault she was in this situation, and he wasn’t going to let her suffer a moment longer.

  He peered down again. “She’s not going anywhere, Bob. That’s long enough.”

  “Try and talk her down,” urged Bob.

  “No. I’m going down there myself.” He called to Emma, “Just stay where you are. I’m coming.”

  In a few bounds, Will had rappelled down the crag and was alongside her. He found her with her eyes screwed tightly shut, her knuckles white, gripping the rope at her side as if her life depended on it. At that moment, he hated himself for having put her in this situation.

  “Emma, it’s Will. Open your eyes.”

  She shook her head, then opened her eyes.

  “Are you all right?”

  Another shake.

  “Not feeling faint? Dizzy? Sick?”

  “A bit sick and…terrified.”

  “Can you move?”

  “No.”

  “Yes, you can. Let out the rope a tiny bit.”

  “I’ll fall.”

  “You can’t—it’s impossible. I promise you. I’m here, and I’m going to help you down. Cross my heart…you’ll be fine.”

  “I can’t. I just daren’t let go.”

  “You can do it. I know you can. I have faith in you—you can do it, sweetheart.”

  It was the endearment that did it. The simple, silly word that fathers and mothers, relatives and friends—and even strangers in shops—used every day. A casual sweet nothing that meant so much to her.

  Slowly, her fingers allowed the rope to slip an inch.

  “Good girl,” he whispered, coaxing her, gently encouraging her.

  Another six inches.

  “You’re doing fine, Emma, sweetheart…fantastic…not far to go…”

  Another few feet.

  Now she could see the fellside beneath her and Suzanne at the bottom. Only a few feet to go now, no higher than a bedroom window. The relief was intoxicating, and she let out some more rope, eager to be home.

  “Whoa!” he cried. “Not too fast!”

  In a few seconds, her boots made contact with the hillside, the sweet and solid, wonderful ground. She wanted to kneel down and kiss it. Will was beside her, his hands trying to unfasten the harness as she jigged up and down in delight, high as a kite on the endorphins pulsing through her body.

  “Well done!” cried Suzanne, patting her on the back. “You did really well!”

  “Well…I did freeze a bit…”

  “You were fine! Happens to all of us at one time. I was stuck for twenty minutes on my first go,” said Suzanne, but Emma wasn’t fooled. “She was amazing, was
n’t she, Will?”

  “Yes, she did very well,” he said, searching for just the right mix of measured praise and studied nonchalance. Because if he didn’t, he’d be throwing his arms around her, telling her how proud he was that she’d even gone through with it in the first place, let alone managed to get going again.

  “Now I know you’re both being far too kind,” breathed Emma.

  Suzanne shook her head in exasperation. “Stop putting yourself down, Emma—it takes real guts to do what you just did. Now I really must go back up top and help Bob with the equipment. I’ll see you back here in”—she looked at her watch—“about half an hour, if that’s OK?”

  “Suits me fine!” said Emma, still riding high on adrenaline. “Thank you so much.”

  “It was a pleasure, wasn’t it, Will?” said Suzanne.

  “Oh, absolutely.”

  Suzanne rolled her eyes at him and started back up the slope as Emma stood watching him, unsure of what to do next.

  “Will,” she said, coming nearer to him.

  He carried on packing the harnesses into his rucksack.

  “Thanks for rescuing me.”

  “Just my job,” he said matter-of-factly, fastening the buckles.

  “Well, you were very good at it. I would have been up there all day without you.”

  He gave a wry smile as he straightened up. “I’m sure someone would have come and coaxed you down by sunset.”

  “But you did…and I’m so glad it was you.”

  Suddenly, he was right in front of her, looking at her so intently that her heart started thudding faster than on the cliffside. She saw something in his eyes. A new light she’d never seen before. She was sure of it, and now here he was, a breath away from her, a foot above her, his head dipping inexorably toward hers.

  Before she even had time to stop and breathe, let alone to think, he was reaching for her with both arms and gently pulling her toward him. As she stood on tiptoe and brought her upturned face to meet his, she felt the lightest touch on her lips.

  It was a soft, velvet kiss.