High Seduction (11 page)

Others? “How many were with you?”

Peter looked confused. “The plane was full. Another half dozen? Maybe a couple more?”

Fuck. Tim engaged his radio. “Anders, Alisha. We've got trouble. There were more passengers on board than the three on the manifest.”

“Great. Hang tight. I'll contact the airfield to see if they can dig up more info.”

“Anders and I are heading to the upper site,” Alisha announced. “Join us when you can.”

Overhead the steady sound of the rotors echoed off the walls to produce a syncopated rhythm. Devon joined him, and for a couple minutes they were occupied loading the injured man onto the stretcher.

The man on the carry board had gone silent once the painkillers kicked in. Tim completed putting down a dressing while Devon tightened security straps.

Anders lowered the connecting cable and the stretcher rose skyward.

“I'm heading after the others.” Tim pointed uphill. “Alisha's setting fixed ropes.”

Devon gave him a thumbs-up, then returned to completing his task.

Tim hurried over the uneven rock toward the back of the half-moon-shaped amphitheater. He paused, examining the area closer now that there were bodies to put the view into perspective.

Above them, Alisha and Tripp were closing in on the nose of the aircraft. The bright red section was wedged into a section of rock, the broken body in twisted shreds as if some giant dragon had used its claws on a new toy. Below him were the tail and part of the body. Cabin walls and padded seats lay in mangled bits, destroyed by their tumble down the ragged mountain face.

There wasn't enough rummage to make a plane. Not if he put all the pieces together in a morbid balsam wood model construction.

He moved to the north, gaze darting over the scene. Looking for the missing clue. A narrow, dark line drew him away from following the team, headed instead farther to the side. He cautiously approached the fissure and peered over it. The rough scree rock had been recently disturbed, a darker trail visible that led down to one side and out of view. Signs screamed loud and clear that something had slid that direction.

Tim eyed the incline warily. “Erin, take a swing higher and come at this wall from the other side. I have a suspicion someone went down a side route, and I'm hoping it ends somewhere in the open. Look for wreckage, red paint.”

The chopper lifted before he'd even finished speaking.

“You find something?” Devon asked.

“We have missing people, and missing plane. It's got to have slid off in a different direction.”

“Tim, we're at the cockpit. Pilot is dead.” Alisha's somber announcement made them all pause.

“Damn.”

“No other passengers in this vicinity. Tripp and I are coming back down.”

Devon had joined Tim, and he spoke off radio. “Wait for Alisha and Tripp to return.”

Tim nodded. “Let's see what Erin finds. No use crawling into dark places without a reason.”

A solid hand clasped his shoulder in agreement as they turned to wait while Alisha and Tripp made the descent and rejoined them on relatively stable ground.

“Getting off this piece of rock is going to be a pain in the ass,” Devon muttered, pulling his coat closer around his face.

Tim eyed the cliffs. “We could hang glide.”

A burst of laughter escaped his partner. “We can go off Mount Rundle in the spring. Other than that, I'm not into free fall.”

“So BASE jumping is out? Damn, you're a lousy date.”

Devon winked in response. Normal, everyday chatter between the moments of dealing with life and death—it was what they used to combat the stress. Tim glanced up as the chopper volume increased.

Anders came online. “Oh joy, oh bliss, what we've got is a sightseeing tour. Pilot registered two for the flight, but had room for more. So either he was pocketing the extra fares, or he booked them on for some special low rate fare as a favour.”

“Some favour,” Tim muttered, looking around the crash site.

“There's no crash evidence on the far side, Tim.”

Erin's smooth tones stroked him, a subtle brush against nerve endings that were set on high when it came to anything about her. Even in the middle of the tense situation he was always aware of her, and not only because the sound of the chopper followed them everywhere.

“They have to be somewhere,” Alisha complained.

“Unfortunately, I think I know where.” Tim gestured to the ravine.

A whirl of activity followed as ropes and anchors were set, and Alisha made the first descent over the edge.

Devon waited impatiently, Tim holding his safety rope. “Tell us what's happening, Alisha,” Devon ordered.

“Come on down. You're not going to believe this. It's like the entire belly of the plane surfed down here and—oh
shit
. Devon, haul ass, I need you. Set lines and descend. All hands.”

The radio cut out and if they'd moved quickly before, they were now in high gear, blurs of motion.

“I'll belay you, Devon. Fast trip, call out when you need to slow down,” Tim offered.

Alisha was talking steadily again, information regarding the other passengers coming in over the radio as Tripp locked down ropes and tossed lines. Tim focused on the weight in his hands as Devon vanished out of sight below him, the rope skipping out at what would be an alarming rate for most people.

All he got from Devon was a calm, “Ready to slow. Slow down and stop in three, two, one . . .”

Tim braced himself and gripped the rope tighter to bring his teammate to a standstill.

“Nicely done. I'm down. Tie off and descend.”

Tim was in midair, dropping toward the others, before he got to see what had caught their attention. The crazed dragon that he'd imagined had clawed apart the plane had taken the middle section and spit it out here. The nearly perfect oval had slid, or rolled, but had jammed to a stop half on a rock lip, half off.

The reason for Alisha's call for speed was clear. There were moving shapes in the wreckage, but the entire mass was close to tipping the final distance. There would be no way anyone would survive that kind of a fall to the watery rocks below.

Alisha had already reached the edge of the plane. “Everyone stay put. We're going to place some anchors, and then we can get you out.

A mass of raised voices greeted her announcement, but she swore, raising her hands in a full stop position. “Guys, anyone speak Japanese?”

“Shit, really?” Devon was up against the rocks, slamming climbers' cams into the cracks as rapidly as his fingers would move. “Head count. We need them out of there.”

He gestured at the two passengers who had crawled from their seats earlier and sat huddled together to the side of the wreckage, attempting sign language to make them stay put.

“I see seven, and five are still in the cabin.” Alisha dug in the gear bag and began looping chest harnesses to her body ropes. “Do you have a good anchor for me yet, Devon? I'm going in.”

“The plane's not secure,” Devon shouted.

“She's the lightest,” Tripp cut in, not a slap down at Devon, but a reminder of the goal. “Alisha, single rope on each, but we're not going to take anyone out until you've got them chained together. I don't want to tip the balance more than adding your weight.”

Tim caught Devon's eye. Confidence was there, but fear as well, as Devon had to watch his fiancée move into terrifying danger. He caught the rope Devon tossed him and waited for the moment he could guide it carefully to Alisha.

She moved with a steady grace, even half buried under her equipment. A hushed silence fell over the area. Excited voices stilled as the plane rocked, a horrifying metallic moan rising from where the metal rubbed the granite mountainside.

One person. The next. Alisha used a strange sort of hands-on comforting and gentle manipulation, but she was getting ropes around each passenger. After she'd done the first, chatter sprang up again as the passengers realized what she was doing. They worked eagerly to help her, arms rising slowly, fingers wrapping around ropes.

The plane settled a foot, and the low murmuring turned to screams. Tim bolted forward as well, unable to stop the knee-jerk reaction.

“It's okay. It's okay. Just stop moving.” For a tiny thing, Alisha could sure shout when she had to.

Tripp passed Tim a rope end. “Tie on. I want you ready to move if needed.” He spoke softly enough not to be overheard.

There wasn't enough oxygen in the air. Not until Alisha turned from securing the final person and gave the signal.

“I'm going forward,” Tim announced. “I can help get them out of the wreckage.”

Tripp nodded, then belayed him down the edge. Tim took the time to set his own anchor in the rocks at his feet. A short rope, just enough room on it to manoeuvre.

A dangerous version of a child's playground game began. Standing on the teeter-totter, attempting to balance it, but with the additional stress of working with shifting weights, Alisha directed the passenger farthest from safety to move toward Tim.

Everyone's eyes were wide as he shuffled slowly toward a safer perch. As the first civilian passed him, Tim looped an additional carabiner around the harness Alisha had fastened, and Tripp took control, lifting the man rapidly to a secure ledge. Rinse, repeat. None of them had time for a break, one muscle-aching moment following another.

On the opposite side from where they were removing passengers, Devon held Alisha's rope ready. She turned to the final tourist, and their luck vanished. The plane began a slow, grinding tilt that was too determined to end in anything but a complete disconnect from its perch. Chunks of rock supporting the plane broke away with horrifyingly loud cracks that echoed off the wall behind them.

Tim regrasped the cable he had waiting and made a decision. He snapped the carabiner into his palm, kicked his anchor rope free, and gave Tripp as much heads-up as he could.

“Free fall,” he shouted.

Tim jumped, aiming for the open space in front of the two bodies left in the plane. A loud shout rang in his ears as Tripp responded, almost too quickly. Tim slammed the carabiner through the chest loop around the last passenger, then twisted and held on tight to Alisha. She grabbed him with one arm and caught her rope with the other, and the mountainside gave way, taking the empty remains of the plane with it.

Tripp pulled the final passenger over the cliff lip. Alisha and Tim ended suspended in midair, Devon securing them in place. Their ropes slowly twisted together.

A deafening roar rose from the base of the mountain as the plane settled into its final resting place.

CHAPTER
11

Tim eased back awkwardly in the plastic seat and let weariness take hold. It was no use pretending he wasn't beat.

After his little leap of faith it had taken an hour to get his and Alisha's feet on solid ground, plus get the entire group of passengers onboard the chopper. Erin pulled off another flying miracle and kept the chopper level in nearly impossible conditions, reducing the panic in the group as they were winched onto the chopper.

They'd shifted the rescued into a medical transport, passing over responsibility at that point, done a quick debrief with the local SAR team, and then Tim had offered to stay behind until Erin completed her paperwork. The rest of the team were shuttled to a nearby hotel for a chance to recover.

That was what seemed like hours ago, and he'd been floating between sleep and consciousness the entire time since. But he wasn't leaving Erin, no matter how much he longed to crash for a few hours.

Soft, warm fingers stroked his arm, and he opened his eyes to discover Erin hovering over him.

“Hey, you.”

Tim didn't fight the yawn that welled up as he pulled himself alert. “Hey yourself. You done all your postflight checks?”

“Uh-huh. Plus, I've got amazing news—I get to fly her to Calgary when we leave. They need her out there, and since we're available, we get the gig.”

He smiled at her enthusiasm. “That is awesome. Congrats.”

She laughed. “You're still half asleep. Come on, we're good to go.”

Dragging his carcass out of the seat made him groan lightly as his tight and bruised muscles protested. Erin wrapped an arm around him, and they headed toward the exit.

“The rest of the team settled for the night?” Erin asked.

“They're already at the hotel. And Devon got his wish. Marcus announced we've got a three-day leave.”

Erin paused, adjusting her small personal backpack to hang over her shoulder. “Seriously?”

Tim nodded. He tugged her to the side, pulling her strong body against his. “I want to take you somewhere special for the time we've got. Somewhere a little fancier than the local Holiday Inn. You okay with that?”

“Right now I need food.” She covered a yawn. “And then anywhere with a shower and a bed is fancy enough for me.”

“But you'll go with me?”

“I don't need to hang out with the team all the time,” Erin said. “But don't expect me to make any decisions right now. My brain is mush.”

Tim tucked her hand in his and led her to a waiting taxi. “No other decisions needed. I'll take care of you.”

His aches and pains faded rapidly as she settled beside him in the cab, leaning into him and sighing. He pulled out a phone and connected with Devon.

His teammate picked up on the first ring. “Yo, Tim!”

“You're disgustingly chipper. You already eaten, or do you and Alisha want to join us for refueling?”

“Chipper is because I've had a shower, and we're just headed down to the restaurant. Want us to order for you?”

Shower—
bullshit
. Tim would bet anything Devon had not only showered but bent Alisha over, or had her up against the wall. Only soul-satisfying sex put that tone in a man's voice. “Cover the table with appetizers, and we'll see about the rest when we arrive.”

“Deal. Hey . . . while it's on my mind. Going out on a limb here, and I don't expect an answer this minute, but I know Erin's a frequent visitor at The Wild. You ask her to put in a good word, and get Alisha and me an invite to the rooms upstairs sometime?”

Seriously?
“Why, Devon, isn't that a little outside your usual tastes?”

A deep chuckle sounded. “Assumptions can come back to bite you, Tim. Maybe Alisha and I get a kick out of keeping it fresh.”

And a visit to a sex club was on his mind? Yeah, the man had definitely had sex and now he was gloating. Tim tucked away the phone and pondered how every day brought new and interesting things to light.

Erin nestled in again. “Late lunch with the team?” she asked.

“Just Alisha and Devon. Thought it would be nice to relax with them for a bit.” Tim didn't add that his original intention had been to make sure Erin got used to being accepted as a part of a couple. Devon and Alisha worked with the team, but there was an unmistakable connection between them. Something he desperately wanted for himself and Erin again.

A partnership on the field and in the bedroom—strong enough that everyone would know they were together. The details of how they were together and what they were doing in private weren't for others to know, but it was the complete deal Tim was still focused on.

The restaurant was surprisingly busy, delicious smells rushing from the kitchen to assault them as they walked in the door. Devon's call rose over the sounds of happy tourists, and Erin tugged Tim toward the corner booth where Alisha and Devon sat.

The huge platter of nachos waiting in the center of the table pulled a groan from him. “Oh, hell yes.”

Erin had a scoop of guacamole on a chip before her ass even hit the cushioned bench. “I dreamed about this the entire flight from Banff.”

“We've got enough appetizers coming we don't need anything else,” Alisha warned. She held out a plate. “Jalapeño poppers ordered just for you as well. Except Devon's gone through four already.”

“It was cold out there. I needed something to warm me up,” Devon protested with a smile.

Other than putting in drink orders when the waitress came by, there was little but the sounds of happy crunching for the next fifteen or so minutes.

Devon leaned back, nestled up tight against Alisha as he let out a long, hard sigh. “God, I didn't know I was that famished.”

“Granola bars and power gels get the calories in, but they don't count as food.” Alisha held up a forkful of salad. “Here—you need something green to go with that carnivore's feast you just inhaled.”

Devon rolled his eyes at Tim, then good-naturedly turned to his fiancée. “Rabbit food. Fine.”

Alisha might have been the one holding the fork, but Devon was obviously doing something other than it appeared as he accepted the mouthful of food.

Tim watched closely, trying to figure out why Alisha's cheeks had bloomed so brightly. Their body language, the way Devon leaned toward her—everything screamed that they were not only a couple, but a pair who couldn't keep their hands off each other.

It wasn't until Alisha shuddered slightly, though, that Tim discovered the reason for her flushed face. He smiled, hiding the expression behind his glass. Devon's hand was below the tabletop, and Tim would bet long odds he knew what was going on out of sight.

Devon's little question from earlier made more sense now.

Tim turned to Erin. “Great job out there today.”

“You, too, except for the momentary shot of stupid.”

Devon joined in the conversation, no indication that he was doing anything sexual to Alisha while they spoke. “I thought it was no more than what was needed. A touch stupid, but there's nothing wrong with that—”

“Sometimes stupid is what gets the job done,” Tim agreed. “Exactly. You can't always wait for the most comfortable situation. Wait for the right place and time—hell, occasionally it's that edge of danger that makes some experiences work better than if you called it safe.”

Devon grinned, catching the dual meaning in Tim's words. “That extra edge? I hear some people get off on it.”

Alisha sucked in a tiny gasp of air, reaching for her water glass with unsteady fingers. Whatever Devon was doing, she was enjoying it immensely. Or at least enough that she didn't feel safe to join in the conversation.

Erin bumped his shoulder, whispering in his ear. “Did I just miss some guy-talk lingo?”

Tim glanced at Devon. The other man raised a brow but didn't answer. Instead, he picked up a spring roll from the table and offered it to Alisha, feeding it to her as he spoke softly.

All the while continuing to torment her and make her squirm.

Well, hell. Tim had enjoyed Devon's company before, but this was a whole new side that he was seeing. Perhaps they had more in common than Tim originally suspected. It was something he'd have to explore more in the future.

Right now?

Now that there was food in their stomachs it was time for him and Erin to head toward the next thing, and there was no reason not to begin immediately.

He snuck his hand up Erin's back, caressing the strong muscles of her shoulders, stroking the gentle curve with his thumb. He leaned in close so he could speak quietly.

“Your friend is really enjoying her supper today,” he whispered.

Erin snorted. “Why are we whispering about Alisha and appetizers? Is this some dark secret because of the deep-frying?”

“Try deep penetration,” Tim teased. “Notice where we are? Tucked up safe in this corner? Devon's got his fingers all over Alisha right now, and I bet you she's biting her tongue to stop from moaning.”

Erin stiffened slowly as he spoke, instantly glancing away from the other couple. “They're fooling around right here?” she demanded, still keeping her voice low enough not to be overheard.

“That's what I think.” Tim squeezed her neck again, dragging his nails lightly over her skin. “You know this. You know people get off on all kinds of edgy play. Voyeurs, exhibitionists. It's a part of what makes people happy. If this is one of their kinks, good for them.”

“But it's Alisha and Devon,” Erin protested.

“And you've spent how many hours with them over the years?”

“Enough, but I didn't know—I mean, I don't
want
to know what turns them on.”

“You trust them with your life; they trust you with theirs. You've played together as well as worked—enjoyed a good meal. A good movie. Sexual pleasure is simply one more thing we appreciate as humans. Knowing what they like doesn't mean you're jumping in and getting hands-on, either.”

He ignored her and faced the table. If Devon and Alisha were playing right out in the open like this, he was going to take advantage of the situation. Plus, there was something deliciously sensual in helping them take it one step further.

He caught Alisha's gaze, making sure he was wearing a completely nonjudgmental expression, but he also didn't let her look away. “Alisha. When you drop on the cable, especially in high winds, I've noticed you don't seem to spin as much as I do. Got any secrets to share?”

Alisha swallowed hard but wiggled herself a bit more upright. Devon's soft smile showed his approval and delight as he also met Tim's gaze and waited for Alisha's answer.

“It might have something . . . to do with our weight ratio. I don't present as big of a target since my—” She sucked for air, her lashes fluttering. Only a second later she pulled herself together, voice shaky as she continued. “. . . My mass is smaller than yours. Try flipping between staying compact, and using a ballet dancer's snap to focus your . . . torso on one point. That slows . . .
oh, god
 . . . the rotation.”

She pressed both hands to the table and her eyes went unfocused for a second, lips slightly open as she silently exhaled. Devon was fully engrossed in her now, his mouth close to her ear as she got caught in the maelstrom of what Tim judged to be a very nice orgasm.

At his side Erin squirmed, a good indicator of just how much this was affecting her.

Erin wasn't a wiggler.

“You'll have to work through that with me in the gym sometime.” Tim raised his glass to Devon. “Demonstrations are the best way to learn.”

“Fun as well,” Devon agreed. He raised his hand to his mouth and deliberately licked the wet fingers clean, all the while staring at Alisha.

“Holy shit,” Erin breathed, leaning against Tim. “This is all wrong, but I'm so turned on right now.”

Hallelujah. “Nothing wrong, love. Our friends have healthy sex drives. They know what they like, and they're good having some fun. Sounds like pretty much the perfect situation.”

“It feels . . .” She shook her head. “Not here.”

He squeezed her leg, leaving his hand on her thigh. “We'll talk about it in a bit, then.”

She nodded.

Tim wanted to jump up on the table and cheer. Instead he focused on the rest of the time together with Devon and Alisha, making sure it was ordinary and everyday as possible. Just friendly team members, taking a break. Enjoying the start of a couple days off.

But when they got out of here? He was picking up the conversation and running with it. And he was sending a bottle of really good whiskey to Devon the first chance he got.

* * *

Tim followed her into the back of the taxi. He didn't crowd her, yet his presence wrapped around her so hard she broke into an instant sweat. His scent, his nearness.

Just
him
.