Page 61 of High Seduction
Matt clicked on the line. “It is a great view. You know how seldom I get to see clear skies on the coast?”
“Best part of living in Banff,” Erin teased. “No coastal weather. I don’t miss the grey skies all winter long.”
“The never-ending winter winds that sweep the east coast drive me insane,” Tim confessed. “Erin, you know this—if it’s not tied down or fastened to the Rock, there’d be nothing left in Newfoundland after a long hard winter with the winds licking over the Wreckhouse flats.”
She shuddered involuntarily, remembering all too clearly even after her years away. “God, it chills to the bone, doesn’t it?”
They all fell silent for a short while, admiring the sunshine glinting off the wave-painted surface of the water. From this height each indentation appeared to be lit from within, turning the entire ocean into a sparkling, multifaceted diamond. It was glorious, and mesmerizing, and she nearly hated to exchange the water for the shoreline, rising over the trees and heading through the passes that provided the straightest route while avoiding the major cities.
A world of shimmering silver was exchanged for the purest white of upper-range snow. Here among the peaks there was no one to disturb the virgin white. Rare even was the thin line of an animal track marring the endless fields of snow as they headed higher and broke through the teeth of the Selkirk Range.
“Amazing.” Tim reached over and clicked her radio to a different line, not the one they’d been talking on with Matt. “It’s a piece of heaven, love, and I’m so grateful for the chance to see it with you.”
With one sentence he melted her. She took a deep breath and refocused on the instrument panel to stop from blurting out anything that was too soon to be saying.
But she was thinking it. Hard. It would be too easy to completely fall in love with her scoundrel if he kept on being so damn fascinating.
Too much baggage was involved to be thinking that seriously. So much they still needed to discuss.
They topped the next ridge, entering a sea of mountaintops, and Erin gloated in the glory that was her job. “So beautiful.”
Black snow-free peaks jutted skyward, breaking the pristine landscape with sharp slashes of dark against the light. Erin adjusted altitude to follow the level of the glacier field below them, the earth racing past in a rush of wild magnificence.
“Makes me want to leap out and make some tracks,” Tim shared. “Leave behind a sign that we’ve been here.”
Matt shook his head. “It would only last for a few hours. The wind would have the slopes buffed and polished before you even reached the bottom.”
“I’dknow I’d been there.”
Tim twisted to catch her attention, brilliant blue eyes as beautiful and compelling as the scenery below them.
She smiled back. “You do leave an impact wherever you go.”
She’d planned a flight path that took them north of Whistler, heading in a near-straight line toward home. Tim fell silent, and she just enjoyed being with him. At one point he leaned in the opposite direction so he could lay a hand on her thigh, his gaze still fixed out the window in fascination.
They’d been in the air more than two hours, the huge chopper easily eating up the distance. Another hour and a bit and they’d be landing. Drop off the chopper, find a rental car, then they could discuss the next thing.
Their holiday break was needed in more ways than one. For the first time in a long while, Erin could honestly say she was on her way to being truly relaxed.
They closed in on the secondary pass, a narrow passage between the towering cliffs. Erin increased their altitude slightly so as not to get caught by an updraft off the opposite side of the mountain. The shadow of the chopper followed them on the snow below, a dark silhouette growing larger and smaller as the terrain changed.
They broke over the ridge, and the world changed.
“Holy shit, what’s that?” Tim pointed to the south.
“Tracks. What makes tracks that big?” Matt asked.
The ground was exposed in a near-straight line running northwest to southeast, the snow shoved aside like an enormous shovel had been dragged over the surface.
Tim stabbed a finger at the window. “There. Broken landing gear?”
Erin headed for the cliff Tim indicated, the situation far too similar to recent memory. “Damn, looks like a plane crash. Think it went over the edge?”
“Possibly. I’ll get our gear ready.” He unbuckled and headed into the back.
“Hey, slow up, buddy. We have some decisions to make first.”
Tim stopped dead in his tracks, reversing direction and planting his butt in his chair. “You’re right. Sorry for jumping the gun. Matt—you okay with us stopping?”
