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Authors: Vivian Arend

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BOOK: High Risk
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CHAPTER
7

She was out the door and headed for the dorms, frustrated energy making her stride
quick and wide. Her mind was stuffed full and yet empty—everything as tangled together
as the ropes had been: Unusable. Impossible.

The first holds had been perfect. The sensation of her body obeying her commands a
thrill as always. She’d planned on testing her limits to see what she had to regain.

It seemed a whole hell of a lot. Everything that had defined her now lay in a mess,
her identity tangled and tattered.

She hadn’t realized how much it would hurt to have her abilities questioned all over
again, and it didn’t matter that Marcus said he didn’t doubt her. She doubted herself,
and that meant she was back to square one.

A rock kicked up beside her and she startled to discover Marcus pacing at her side.
“Shit. Have you been there the entire time?”

“We need to talk.” He adjusted the bag he carried.

“About the team’s schedule. Right. This afternoon.”

“Well, there’s also the issue of our training, details of which we can add to the
official meeting. In the meantime, I need a workout. Want to join me?”

A workout was exactly what she needed. Sweaty, mindless, physically demanding activity
to wipe away her need to analyze and reanalyze every second of what went wrong this
morning. “Another run?”

He shook his head. “A swim.”

They were at the doors to the dorms. “Deal. Where?”

“Back at the school?” Marcus stood and waited, his strong body at ease like some kind
of hunting cat waiting for the exact right moment to pounce. “Or the Banff Centre,
or the rec centre. Your choice.”

She wasn’t going willingly back into the school, not today. No matter what she’d said
about not letting the place beat her, she needed a breather. “Rec centre. We can do
a few weights as well.”

“Deal. I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.”

He walked the slight hill to where his truck was parked, and she couldn’t turn away.
His broad shoulders, the flex of his ass under his pants. She’d spent a month studying
him on the sly when they’d first met, and the same magnetism that had pulled her in
back then was still there. Still had her staring long after she should have gone to
grab her swim things.

What was it about Marcus? What made her lose all common sense and want to flirt and
carry on like some infatuated teenager? Even shaken from the experience on the wall,
he caught her attention and made everything else she should be concentrating on slip
away.

She had to rush to make it in time.

Stepping to the exterior doors of the rec centre pulled an involuntary smile to her
lips. The stonework and glass made the huge building nestle into the trees as if it
had grown there. The rustic construction style was shared by many businesses and homes
in the Banff area. Like the mountains rising around them, the human-made structure
became a fitting part of the whole. The log features carried the taste of nature inside
as well. Becki took a deep, satisfied breath as she stopped at the desk to pay.

A sense of the familiar, the . . . rightness. This was exactly what she needed to
counter her chaotic soul.

The girl behind the desk smiled at her. “Becki James?”

Becki hesitated, trying to place the face. “Yes?”

“You’re already paid for. You can stop by any time and get your picture done for the
pass. For now, let me put this on you.” The girl held out a brightly coloured wristband.

Obviously Marcus had beat her to the centre. “Are there any pool restrictions today?
Or in the gym?”

The girl shook her head. “Nothing booked in the gym until after supper. In the pool,
there’s an aquasize class in about thirty minutes, but the deep tank will be free,
and there’s always at least one lane kept open for laps.”

“Thanks.”

Becki changed before stopping by the floor-to-ceiling windows to check the aquatic
centre. The sunshine had faded to grey as clouds moved in, but in the pool area an
oasis of light and heat remained.

“Weights first?”

She twirled to discover Marcus standing directly behind her. He’d changed as well
into casual running shorts and a well-worn T-shirt with the logo of one of the local
restaurants emblazoned across the front. A neoprene sleeve covered his stump and wrapped
over his elbow—probably both for protection and to provide a better grip. “You move
very quietly for a big man.”

“Helps me sneak up on all those innocent deer in the parking lot. Come on.”

He held open the door to the weight room and she stepped in, the cool of the air-conditioning
brushing the bare skin of her arms and legs like a caress. A few others were in the
room, doing bicep curls or using the machines. Rock music from the local station played
softly in the background, a fitting counter to the low-pitched hum of the treadmills.

“General arms, legs? What are you thinking?” she asked.

“Up to you. I’m game for more lower-body work in here—the swim later will be enough
upper body to finish.”

Perfect. She pointed to a couple of steppers that faced the exterior windows, and
soon they were both moving. Outside the grey skies had gone nearly white, the brown
grass making everything almost monochromatic. The mountaintops were dusted with fresh
snow—the rain earlier in the week freezing at the higher elevations. Spring in Alberta—there
was still a long way to go to get to the lush green that would take over the place
in the summer.

The conversation as they warmed up stayed generic. Comfortable. Fifteen minutes passed
quickly as Marcus led the discussion of nothing important. Becki was grateful, even
as she cursed herself for spending more time looking at his reflection in the mirrorlike
glass than staring through it at the gorgeous mountains surrounding them.

They moved to the weights, and she took charge. “Squats. We’ll use the power rack,
if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Load your starting weight—I’ll follow after. I don’t need to try to impress
you, do I? Loading three times as much weight on seems like a useless venture.”

She snorted. “Trust me, being impressive in the workout room isn’t. I’ve spent too
much time around people who easily outpressed me, yet couldn’t transfer that into
any kind of strength when they needed it most.”

Becki stepped under the bar, resting it on her shoulders as comfortably as possible,
which meant not very. She stood the final two inches it took to release the security
clasps, twisting the metal bar to flip the hooks out of the way.

She focused on her reflection in the mirror. Legs spread shoulder width apart, toes
facing forward, she bent her knees and lowered the weight until she was in a sitting
position. Reversing direction made all the muscles in the front of her thighs engage,
the thicker bands in her butt having to work to bring her back to vertical.

“One. Nice form. You keep that up, and I’m going to feel like a wimp when it’s my
turn,” Marcus teased.

“You’ll have as good form or better—remember, you asked me to train you. I don’t let
my partners muck around.” Becki continued on as she spoke, the blood moving into her
legs warming her. Her heart rate steadied, and she concentrated to keep her breathing
smooth.

All the different components of training were a balancing act she loved. Part of using
her body as the tool, making it fit, keeping it strong. Making demands now so that
in the field she would go on autopilot and do what needed to be done.

Marcus kept his count going, walking behind her to rest his hand on the metal bar
between where it rested on her shoulder and the palm of her right hand.

“I hope you don’t expect me to flake out this soon,” Becki said. “It’s going to be
a damn short workout if you’re spotting me already.”

He chuckled. “Don’t be offended. I’m sure you can easily finish this set.”

She completed two more squats, only now? She wasn’t focusing on her core body. On
watching her legs to make sure she powered up using her thighs.

No, a lot more of her attention was struck by the distance he stood behind her. How
the heat from his torso crossed the narrow gap between them, and how when she did
complete the set and twisted the bar to engage the security hooks, he slipped his
hand to her shoulder and trailed his fingers down her back.

“Good start.” Marcus switched positions with her. He had to bend lower to get under
the bar, and she was way too aware of his glute muscles rubbing past her thigh.

Becki stepped back to a nice safe distance.

His gaze in the mirror as he began his set? Mocked her.

He knew why she’d moved away.

Oh God.

Becki took a drink from her water bottle and reconsidered her entire game plan. Working
out with Marcus wasn’t supposed to be some kind of long, extended session of foreplay.

“You going to count for me? That was three.” His wink only made her more aware of
him. Of his dark colouring reflected in the mirror. Of the way his shoulder muscles
bunched against the fabric of his shirt as he had his arms raised to support the bar.

“Four.” She had to think of other things. “Adjust your right foot. Your hip is out
of line at the bottom of the squat.” He followed her directions, but on the next repeat
he still was wrong. “More.”

“More what?” Marcus hooked the bar into position and stepped from under it. “Show
me when I’m not holding the weight.”

Becki nodded. “Face the mirror.”

He turned. Lowered himself. She stepped behind him and leaned in. “Here, you’re pressing
your hip back at the three-quarter point.”

“Like this?”

Marcus adjusted, but it wasn’t enough. She placed her hand to the outside of his knee,
but he was still out of line. She pressed her hip against his butt as well to get
him to move the way she wanted. “There. Do you feel that?”

His voice was lower when he spoke. “I feel it.”

Becki snapped her head up to find his face only inches away from hers. She was pressed
tight to his torso, her left breast against his arm as she reached her right hand
forward. Basically, she’d wrapped herself around him.

She scurried back to safety. “You’re a terrible person, Marcus Landers.”

“I think we established that fact a long time ago.”

He got under the weight and proceeded to do five more squats, all with impeccable
positioning. His heated expression taunted her because she had lost the ability to
tell him to cut it out.

The entire damn training session turned into a twisted form of sexual torment.

Marcus stood beside her to spot her. Always in a way that was logical, but a little
too close. He didn’t take the weights from her when they switched position; he laid
his hand on her and touched lightly. Her forearm. Her waist. The swoop of her lower
back right over her ass. All the while watching her with his dark eyes, the trace
of a smile on his lips.

She could have said no. Should have said no, but after the morning’s stress—

No, there was no excuse other than she wanted it. Accepted it. Wanted to revel in
the fact that this man made her feel completely and utterly alive.

He caught hold of her towel as she stood after completing the final machine. His fingers
wrapped slowly around the fabric and pulled her closer. They’d both worked hard enough
she was sweaty, a sheen of moisture covering her bare arms.

The desire to rub all over him like she was marking territory wasn’t good, but she’d
given up telling herself that thirty minutes earlier.

He looked at her, his gaze fixed on her lips. Instinctively, she licked them.

His eyes closed briefly, mouth closing tight over a groan. When he did speak, it was
soft—for her ears only. “I don’t know if I should compliment you on your workout ethics
or assume I’m the only one feeling the heat.”

She hesitated. Lying was no use, but the urge to take out a few of her own frustrations
on him made her reckless. “We said we’d work out together, not fuck each other’s brains
out.”

The answering flash in his eyes said she might have made a mistake poking the beast.

So when he simply stepped back she was a little disappointed, and how twisted was
that?

He nodded slowly. Let loose his grip on her towel.

“Right. Good point.” He trailed his fingers the length of material where it hung between
her breasts, his knuckles skimming the side of one curve. Her breath caught in her
throat. The way his smile grew darker made it clear he’d caught her reaction.

Fake it. It was her only defense left. “See you in the pool?”

He nodded, moving away from where he’d had her trapped by his body. She slid past,
ignoring the brush of their torsos as much as possible.

Just before she’d completely made it to freedom, he spoke.

“Becki?”

She turned to face him. “Yeah?”

He full-out grinned, and her knees trembled. “About working out together? You let
me know when you want to make some additions to the list.”

BOOK: High Risk
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