A Risk Worth Taking

CHAPTER FIVE

IT WAS MIDNIGHT when Adam decided to call it quits. After all, he thought wryly, tomorrow was an early start. Although he was still pissed with Sass and Cressa, the heat had gone out of his anger as he’d become absorbed in his studies. He leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands, tired but satisfied. Despite the upsets of the evening, and the lingering jet lag, he’d still managed to get a few hours’ work under his belt. Some days he felt as though he was tilting at the moon. Other times, like now, he felt his goal was almost within his grasp.

He’d spent six long years juggling work and study to get his degree. If he cracked the MCAT in a month’s time and did get accepted into medical school, the next decade would be even tougher. He was mad to even contemplate signing away his life like this, but the desire to be a surgeon burned deep and wouldn’t let him walk away, no matter how tempted he sometimes was.

Being pinned to the spot by Cressa earlier had left him in a devilish predicament. His gallant arrival in New Zealand to allow his sister to enjoy a long honeymoon should not have backfired on him this way. He had a tingling of uneasy presentiment, but damn it, he had the right to not tell anyone about his crazy dream. If it came off, all well and good, everyone would be delighted and he’d be happy to celebrate with them all. If not, he’d want to lick his wounds alone, especially away from Alicia. A man ought to be free to make a bid for the stars without the weight of his mother’s hopes and anxieties on his shoulders; and he ought to be allowed to fail without the burden of her parental guilt. Ideally, he had to admit, he’d also like to escape having to endure public sympathy and pity. Was that so much to ask? Authors wrote novels in back rooms at midnight; inventors experimented in the hidden shelter of garden sheds. Surely he was entitled to his own privacy.

Why, then, this guilt? Why this sinking feeling because he hoped to preserve his secret for a month? After all, he’d already succeeded for six years. How ironic that he should find himself so close to being outed just when the end was in sight.

And all because of Cressa and Sass and their infernal meddling.

Pushing these thoughts to one side, Adam stretched and became aware that the house was strangely quiet. Where were Brian and Cressa? Had Brian ended up staying the night? After dinner, Adam had left them discussing plans. Thirsty, he now prowled through the house to grab a drink before going to bed. Silence. The door to the master bedroom was shut. He had a fleeting image of Brian and Cressa tucked up in the double bed, which he immediately banished. He grabbed the juice from the fridge, a glass from the cupboard and poured himself a long drink, which he downed at the sink. Craning his neck, he looked out the window. The Porsche had gone.

He put the glass in the dishwasher and closed it quietly so as not to disturb Cressa, then padded to the bathroom. The door to her room stood ajar. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help glancing in. The room was empty. That is, its occupant wasn’t there, but her possessions had commandeered the space. Her helmet perched on the desk; her red jacket lay slung over the back of the chair. Her big black boots had been kicked off to one corner. Her bag occupied the lower bunk, its contents strewn across the duvet. An iPod and her cell phone out on the pillow of the top bunk.

Something caught his eye through the window and he moved into the unlit room to look closer. Moonlight illuminated the garden, casting shadows under the trees and turning the harbor to beaten silver. A shadowed silhouette stood by the water’s edge. She raised her arms to twist her heavy hair into a knot on top of her head, then waded into the silver water. It was too dark to tell if she wore a wetsuit or not. She got in up to her knees and hesitated. He wasn’t surprised. He’d dipped his hand in the water earlier today and it had been freezing. She waded deeper. When the water reached her hips, she slid down, and all he could see was a tiny black head with silver ripples widening about her. She was either brave or crazy.

At the same time she looked very alone in the beautiful scene. The vision stirred something in him. Then she turned and began to wade swiftly out. No wetsuit, then.

He shot out of her room, racing to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get out of her way. Her toiletries bag was already there, toothbrush set in the mug next to his. Her shampoo alongside his. And her towel, thrown over the rail, partially covered his.

He was in bed when he heard soft footsteps go past his room. The shower went on. The water would feel good on icy skin. Smoothing away goose bumps.

Relaxing muscles tensed with cold. Releasing clenched teeth into a sigh of pleasure.

He dropped an arm over his eyes, trying to banish the all-too-vivid images, and groaned. His worries about spending a month alone with his mother seemed laughable compared with the predicament he now faced. Thank you, Sass! He should have kept his big mouth shut. He thought back to the clear-headed resolutions he’d made that morning. Clear-headed but, he now realized, hopelessly naive.

Okay. He could cope with the four weeks in New Zealand. He could cope with having a job for a few days. But Cressa was a whole different problem. He’d seen how she was already taking over the house. There was no way he could allow her to hijack his thoughts, his desires and his precious, fast-disappearing time in the same insidious but thorough manner. He could not—would not—allow his body to betray his mind at this stage.

Distance. It was all about keeping the hell away from her. She’d soon get the message.

CHAPTER SIX

“AND ACTION!”

Cressa hurtled down the hillside, through the forest, at a teeth-rattling speed. Trees, tightly packed on either side, swept past in a blur. Cracks of machine gun fire stuttered overhead and a bomb exploded as she shot by, showering her in earth and leaf mold. Her concentration remained zeroed in on the thin path zigzagging downward in front of her. Tree roots, rocks and rotting logs were the real hazards in this sequence.

She hit her skid mark as Jasper leaped out in front of her, brandishing a hand grenade. Gunning her bike, she whirled and plunged down the new track they’d made, barely discernible in the thick undergrowth of ferns and creepers. Her bike was nearly on its nose as she came to the most dangerous part of the stunt. She had to hit the target launch perfectly to sail out over a small bluff and clear the stream. A couple of inches either way would skew her flight and she’d crash into the water or the unforgiving ground.

She saw the mark Adam had left and hit it square on. The bike lifted and for a second she hovered. Sunlight. Stream. Forest. Weightless and floating. Then every bone jarred as she landed with textbook precision. Or rather, Adam’s precision. He’d mapped out this run to perfection.

She killed the engine and took off her helmet, adrenaline fizzing in her blood. She heard scattered applause from some of the onlookers, and Adam stepped out of the shadow of the trees.

“That wasn’t the speed we agreed on, Cressa.”

Did he have a speedometer in his head? She rolled her eyes. “I landed the stunt. Aren’t you pleased?”

He strode over to her bike and grabbed the handlebars, straddling the front wheel so he could eyeball her. “I’ll be pleased when you learn to take direction.”

“I knew I could do it faster, and I proved that, didn’t I?”

Adam pulled the bike nearer so his face was inches from hers. His voice low and angry. “This isn’t about proving things, to yourself or anyone else. It’s not a game, Cressa. I know for you this is a one-off job, so not that serious, but if you’re wanting to test your personal limits, crap like that, do it on your own time. The rest of the people here are professionals.”

That stung. “I’m a professional!”

“No,” he said, “you’re not. You’re just playing at being one. This time you were only risking your own sorry ass, but if you push the limits when other people are involved, you could endanger them. Got that?”

Of course she wouldn’t endanger anyone. But she didn’t have the chance to defend herself. He’d already backed off the bike and walked away. She hated that. Hated people who had the last word. Except yelling after him would seem, well, unprofessional. In the end, he had the final word, because after just a couple of days on the set, he outranked her. She couldn’t believe how fast it had happened. The first day he was an extra obeying orders; the second day he was chatting to stunt coordinators; the third day he was managing some of the bike sequences. It wasn’t even as though he’d pushed himself forward, but when he talked, they listened.

Initially, Cressa had been pleased, taking an almost proprietary pride in him fitting in so easily. Then she’d had to start accepting direction from him and that had turned out not to be much fun at all. She was used to people listening to her, not the other way round. Plus he had no sense of humor. Her entire life she’d been a clown, but now if she kidded around at work, she got the evil eye. He reminded her of her mother!

Sam, one of the other Valkyrie stuntwomen, strolled over. “Well?”

Cressa did a thumbs-down. “He’s pissed because I went a teensy bit faster than he told me to.”

“Ah, I thought you’d stepped it up.”

“What’s the big deal? I could do it far more quickly. I told him at the time, but as always, he just ignored me.”

Sam punched Cressa on the arm. “Stop whining. You should know by now—if it can be done slower, he’ll do it slower.”

“And if I can do it faster, I want to do it faster.”

“We’re lucky he’s so careful. If we fall in these—” Sam indicated the skimpy Roman-army-style tunics they wore “—we’ll be skinned alive. Come on, let’s get a coffee.”

They dropped the bike off with the other two parked in the shade and made their way up the hill to where the forest finished abruptly. A makeshift camp of trailers, awnings and a few portable toilets had been set up in the field.

Bridget, the third Valkyrie stuntwoman, was doing Sudoku at one of the plastic tables by the food trailer. Sam and Cressa got their coffees and joined her.

“Jeez, these costumes are uncomfortable,” Sam said as she sat down, trying to arrange the blades of the very short, rubberized armored skirt under her incredibly long, slender thighs.

“Tell me about it,” said Bridget, squeezing each side of her ribs to ease her breasts, which were sheathed in the tight faux leather corset. “It’s particularly hard on us well-endowed girls.”

Cressa laughed. “No sympathy here for your endowments, Bid. They’re the talking point of the whole crew.”

It was true. Every male eye was drawn to her assets, which brimmed over the tightly laced top.

“Yeah,” Bridget replied, “but they still aren’t getting me where I want to be.”

Cressa followed her gaze to see Jeremy, the sound engineer, was now fiddling with the boom mike. She’d been pining to catch the shy engineer’s attention for weeks now. Behind Jeremy, Cressa spotted Adam squatting beside the bikes, checking tires and suspension. Secretly, she was impressed by his single-minded professionalism, which ran like steel beneath his seeming affability. Alpha males were usually center-stage guys. Adam simply slipped in and took control.

“Ask Jeremy out for a drink,” Cressa suggested.

Bid sighed. “I tried, but he blushed and stammered out some awful excuse.”

“It’s because he thinks you’re out of his league,” said Sam. “You’re going to have to show him you are interested in his mind. All he sees is you wrestling buff warriors day in, day out. Of course he feels intimidated.” She turned to Cressa and grinned. “I don’t imagine Adam feels intimidated. You have a whole different set of problems there. How’s Operation Texas going at home?”

Sam was older than them and had a predatory approach to relationships. She enjoyed the stalking, the catch. Then she’d walk away in search of a new victim. Cressa found this worldly approach to relationships refreshing, and she was amused by Sam’s good-natured, cynical take on life.

“Better than here, I hope,” said Bid. “Face it. When Adam’s at work, that’s his focus.”

They had quickly picked up on Cressa’s interest in Adam but spoke of it lightly because she hadn’t told them about the amazing connection she’d felt when she and Adam first met. It would have sounded stupid, especially as Adam hadn’t indicated since, in any way, that he’d felt it, too. In fact, if not for the photo of herself in his camera, she might have thought she’d imagined the whole thing. Her ongoing failure to secure Adam’s attention, however, amused Sam, who had turned it into a game. Cressa played along. After all, she prided herself in being able to enjoy relationships without getting too involved or experiencing any of the angst.

Cressa made a face. “He’s more terminator than man. When the phone rang yesterday, I ran to answer it wrapped in nothing but a towel. He walked past while I was talking and didn’t even try to cop a look.”

“You must be doing it wrong,” said Sam. “Hey, he’s coming over now. Watch and learn from the professionals, little girl.” She nodded to Bid. “And action!”

Adam sauntered up to their table. “When you’ve finished, Hank wants to do the fight scene and then we’ll go over the escape run. Okay?”

“Okay,” said Sam, smiling up at him. “Why don’t you join us for a few minutes.” In a way that displayed the full, glorious length of her leg, she pushed the empty chair toward him with her foot.

“Yes, do.” Bid leaned on her forearms, maximizing the effect of her tight corset.

“You could do with a break,” said Cressa, joining in and arching back to lift her heavy hair, as though the weight of it was too much to bear. “You haven’t stopped since the moment you arrived.”

Adam looked from Sam to Bid to Cressa, then smiled as he shook his head and slipped into a broad cowboy drawl. “Why, thank y’all for your invitation, but ya think I can’t spot trouble at fifty paces? Try Jeremy over there.” He grinned at Bid. “He’d just love to sit with you gals. I’ll see you in one hour.”

With a flip of his hand, he walked away.

Bid rounded on her. “Cressa! I don’t want you blabbing to everyone that I fancy Jeremy.”

With a small frown, Cressa watched Adam’s retreating back. “I didn’t. Honest.”

How had Adam picked that one up? She’d thought he was completely immersed in his work here.

“In—ter—es—ting. He didn’t miss a beat, did he? You’ve got yourself a real challenge there.” She stretched out so both feet now rested on the empty chair, her eyes following Adam. “Maybe I should join in on Operation Texas. What do you think, Cressa? May the best woman win?”

Cressa felt a flush of annoyance with Sam. And with Operation Texas. Which was stupid, because they were only kidding around. She wound her hair up and tied it into a heavy knot at her nape. “Boring. Time for another subject.”

Sam laughed. “Okay, I’ll take Hank instead.”

Hank was the fight coordinator, with the body of a gladiator.

“He’s a person, not a conquest,” Cressa snapped. She wasn’t sure if she was talking about Adam or Hank.

Bid threw her a sidelong glance. “Touchy all of a sudden, aren’t you?”

“No. But I’d like to talk about something other than blokes for a change.”

“Agreed,” said Sam. “I nominate literature. So, what did you think of the ending to War and Peace? Did you find it ended on a whimper when you expected a bang?”

“The characterization was what I enjoyed,” said Bid. “Robust, yet poignant.”

“You can’t say that,” Sam objected. “That’s the same line you used to describe the wine last night. Which was execrable, in any case.”

Cressa laughed. “The wine or the line?”

“Both,” said Sam.

“Oi!” Bid protested in mock outrage. “That’s my most useful stock phrase. You’d be amazed at the number of different conversations I can work it into.”

Cressa drained her cup and looked at her friends affectionately, her irritation forgotten. “C’mon, guys. Let’s go wrestle.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

ADAM WAS SURPRISED Cressa was home that evening for dinner. Maybe it was because it had started raining when they got home. She’d been out every other night, visiting her cousin, going out with the other Valkyries, catching a movie. She couldn’t seem to just sit. Couldn’t be with her own company. He wondered what that was about.

His mom was happy. “How wonderful to have you join us. I’ve made chili. There’s plenty for everyone.”

“Fabulous, thanks,” said Cressa, pulling up her chair. “I’m starving.”

Tonight her hair was in a long ponytail that fell over her right shoulder. His resolve to hold her at a distance was enjoying only limited success. Yes, he had kept things professional, but he was having to work hard not to look at her too much. In one fight scene he’d gotten a helluva whack on the head from a wooden shield when he’d been distracted by her broadsword and flying leather skirts, her braid swinging in an arc as she ducked and twirled in a beautifully choreographed sequence.

Cressa heaped her plate with rice and his mother’s special chili. Adam watched with interest as she took her first mouthful. She coughed, spluttered and grabbed a glass of water. “Wow. That’s hot.”

Alicia sounded surprised. “Oh, dear, have I put too much spice in?”

She’d been putting in way too much spice for as far back as Adam could remember. Her chili used to lay his friends out flat, and he and Cole had had a running competition to see who could eat most before diving for the water jug.

“No, it’s lovely.” said Cressa, her voice hoarse as she blinked away the tears. “Great.”

Adam smiled. Payback for her insubordination.

“So how was today?” Alicia asked. It was the same question she used to ask every day after school.

“Good.”

And it was the same reply he’d always given. It had served its purpose then and it had served its purpose these past few days when only he and his mom had been around. It set a nice, easy, conversational tone that carried them through each meal.

“Good?” Cressa dropped her fork and stared at him. “First he shouted at me for going too fast—”

“I didn’t shout.”

“Then he got mad at one of the mechanics because a brake line on one of the bikes snapped.”

“The fool should have picked it up. He was lucky there wasn’t a serious accident.”

“And then,” said Cressa, still ignoring him, “he stepped onto a rotten log, dislodged a wasp nest and got stung three times.” She grinned smugly. “I think it was fate getting him back for being so high-handed.”

“High-handed? I was doing my job, Cressa. The one you got me.”

“Wrong!” She pointed her fork at him. “I got you a nice little number as an insignificant stuntman like the rest of us. It was you who moved in and just took over.”

With a so-there toss of her head, she scooped up another mouthful of chili—and choked. Served her right.

“I haven’t taken over, I’ve simply got some expertise that they are using.” He’d meant to sound calm and rational. He was annoyed to hear the so-there in his voice, too.

His mother smiled. “Dear me. Things certainly sound far more eventful today than on previous days.”

He cast her a sidelong glance but there was nothing to read in her face except demure interest.

Cressa shook her head as she loaded her fork with a five-to-one ratio of rice to chili. “I simply don’t understand how such a nice woman like you, Alicia, could have produced such an infuriating son. I bet his dad was overbearing in that same quiet way.”

A stillness fell over the table. Cressa glanced up. “Oh, shit. Have I put my foot in it? Sorry, Alicia.”

Alicia’s laugh was a shade too tinkling. “Of course not.”

Adam wanted to wring Cressa’s neck. He and his mom had managed just fine. The two of them had enjoyed perfectly reasonable, friendly chats every night. Cressa was home for one night and already she was upsetting things. Glaring, he said, “We don’t talk about him.”

Cressa, typically, paid him no attention. She was looking at Alicia. “How come?”

His mother stirred a portion of rice and chili together, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “It upsets Adam.”

He was taken aback. “No, it doesn’t. We don’t talk about him because it upsets you.”

She was surprised. “Why should it upset me?”

“Because…” He floundered. “Well, because you never mention him.”

“Because you got so angry the one time I tried to tell you about him. Don’t you remember?”

Adam stared at her. “What?”

Alicia put her fork down and faced him. “When you were about six, you asked why you looked different from the rest of us. I tried to explain, but when I got to the part where Dad—Cole and Sass’s father—wasn’t yours, you covered your ears with your hands and ran screaming from the room.”

He had vague memories of that now. Strange, how he’d never remembered before.

She picked up her fork again. “Of course, I completely understood. Terrence, to do him credit, had always treated you exactly the same as the other two. I’ll always be grateful to him for that.”

Adam thought of their father, tall, blond, good-looking, humorous. They’d all adored him—when he was around, which wasn’t that often, even before he took off completely. Adam had wondered a lot over the years how his dad had really felt about having this dark kid foisted upon him, proof to the world that he’d been cuckolded.

“Was I the reason Dad left?” he asked abruptly.

Alicia appeared horrified. “No! Absolutely not. He’d have gone whether you were there or not, Adam. You have to believe that.” She paused and added more matter-of-factly, “Some men aren’t meant to marry, Adam. Terrence was one of them. He loved being on the rodeo circuit. He was never a ‘nine-to-five, come home to the kids’ sort of man. Not deep down. We only married because I was pregnant with Sass. Looking back, I see that’s the worst reason to get married.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Cressa was so emphatic that both Adam and Alicia stared at her. “But, Alicia, you still haven’t said what Adam’s real father was like. Was he all macho and bossy?”

His mother’s eyes softened in memory. “No, Adam’s father was a modern-day troubadour. A man with a heart full of poems and not a cent in his pockets.”

“Wow, he sounds so romantic, whereas Adam—” she looked at him pointedly “—so isn’t. How did you guys meet?”

It didn’t matter how they met, and it wasn’t any of Cressa’s damn business. He pushed his plate away and was suddenly aware of how airless the kitchen felt, the heat of the oven fogging up the windows. His mother smiled. “He came to our school to talk about poetry to some of our writing classes.”

Poetry! Oh, jeez. Why the hell couldn’t he have had a real job, been a truck driver or something? His mom really knew how to pick them.

“And were there sparks the first time you laid eyes on him?” Though she’d asked Alicia the question, Cressa glanced sideways at Adam.

“Why, yes, there were. Funny you should ask. There was this strange electricity between us. Hard to explain.”

“I think I know what you mean,” said Cressa. “What was his name?”

Adam’s stomach hollowed at the question.

“Adahy Wilson. A lot of the time he was just called Andy, but his real name was Adahy. It means ‘lives in the woods.’”

“Adahy.” He tested the name. “Adahy Wilson.”

He must have spoken, because Cressa stared at him. “Don’t tell me you never even knew his name.”

Alicia cut in. “That’s my fault. He never asked, so I never told him. I should have.”

Adam was hating this whole conversation, but what the hell, now that Cressa had started poking around, he had a few questions of his own. One in particular that he’d never dared ask. “Did he know about me?”