A Risk Worth Taking

Cressa leaned forward, eyes dancing. “I know you don’t need it, but Sass said you’d like it. It’ll save you from getting bored. She asked me to see what I could do. So I made a couple of phone calls and the powers that be were really pleased. We’re a warrior short because one of the stuntmen had to return to the States for a couple of weeks for his father’s funeral.” She leaned back, her triumph tangible. “You’ll get to meet lots of people and they’ll just love you! Isn’t that great?”

The same spacey sensation he’d suffered the day before descended on him, the feeling that everything was just out of focus, not quite real. “But,” he said, “I’m going to be busy.”

Cressa appeared surprised. “Doing what?”

Adam sensed Brian’s eyes on him. After their recent skirmishes, no way in hell did he want to admit in front of this guy that he was studying to get into medical school. He glanced at his mother, who appeared curious, a crease of worry between her eyebrows. This was so not the time or the place to tell her, either. Their relationship was too complicated and too fragile at this stage for offhand disclosure. It would kick up old history. So much best left unsaid.

Trapped, Adam uttered the first thing that came into his head. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

He could have kicked himself. Of all the lame excuses available, he’d managed to pick the lamest. Cressa was watching him and he could see questions backing up behind her lips, could feel the ground opening under his feet, so he said the one thing that would make the tense moment go away. “But hey, if it’s only a few days, then great. Yeah. Count me in.”

The brilliant smile Cressa beamed at him almost made the lie worthwhile, but Adam was too busy wondering how many grooms became widowers within their first month of marriage. Just wait till he got his hands on his well-meaning sister. Damn pain-in-the-Sass.

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.”