Chapter 4 #2
“Okay, let’s get you tied in.” She picked up one end of the rope and measured a length against her arm and chest. Then she whipped through a series of loops before stopping and giving him another one of those quick up-and-down looks.
“I’m going to thread this through your hardpoints and then finish the knot. ”
He couldn’t suppress a grin at the word hardpoints . Juvenile, yes, but he was feeling loose and carefree for a change.
She moved in close and threaded the knot through the two loops of his harness before she did another series of ins and outs with the rope to tie what he recognized as a figure-eight knot.
Even though she never quite touched him, his cock wanted to react to having her fingers so close to it, and he took a couple of deep breaths.
“Dario,” she called, stepping away. “Safety check.”
His bodyguard came over and inspected the knot, the harness, and Raul’s helmet. “All good.”
She geared up for belaying while Dario did his inspection. “Ready for my safety check.”
Raul wanted to offer his services for testing her harness so he could touch her the way she had touched him. Too bad he wasn’t expert enough to be taken seriously.
Dario examined all the knots and carabiners and other gizmos Erica had fed the rope through. “Looks good to go,” he said. “I’ll be on backup as soon as he starts climbing.”
Erica nodded and turned to Raul, her stance one of expectancy. “I will be watching you every inch of the way,” she assured him.
He liked knowing she would be focused on him, and not just for safety reasons.
Even in her harness and helmet, she looked too small and light to be the brake for his six-feet-plus. Yet, after their day and a half together, he trusted her, maybe in more ways than one.
He locked eyes with her for a moment. “I’m counting on you.”
He pivoted toward the cliff. Adrenaline surged through him as he tilted his head back to scan up the expanse of shimmering gray stone. Thrusting his hands into the chalk bag, he squeezed the ball to cover them, the dust glittering in the sunlight, before shifting the bag to his back.
“On belay.” He began the call-and-response that initiated the climb.
“Belay on,” Erica responded.
He set his foot on the first ledge. “Climbing.”
“Climb up,” she answered.
Taking a deep breath, he reached for the first jug.
After that, his focus narrowed to the next handhold or foothold.
Erica had given him the commands for asking for more or less slack in the rope, but he never had to use them.
It helped that she knew what route he was taking, encouraging and guiding him on the next step of his upward journey.
But it was more than that. She seemed to read his mind and had already adjusted for his every move in a smooth rhythmic dance.
Time disappeared as he searched the rock for the right minuscule outcropping, his whole world only three square feet of gray stone, shifting as he moved.
And then his foot slipped off a tiny ledge just as he was reaching for the next handhold.
He tried to stretch his arm to catch the protruding rock but missed.
His other foot skidded off the ledge so he was hanging by one hand, his shoulder screaming with the strain, his stomach twisted in fear as he glanced down to see Erica far below.
“I’ve got you.” she shouted. “Let go! You’ll just injure yourself.”
Jaw clenched, he tried to lift himself with one arm so he could reach the next handhold.
“Use your legs, not your arms,” she said, her voice steadying him.
He groped with his toes for the ledge, his arm muscles shaking. “Joder!” he muttered as his fingers slipped off the rock, his fingernails scraping over it. “Falling!” His heart flipped in panic as he plunged through thin air.
But he didn’t fall. Not really. Just dropped a couple of feet to dangle from the rope looped securely through his harness, his heart pounding with fear and adrenaline.
He looked down again to see Erica with both feet braced against the cliff as she held him in place while Dario grasped the rope behind her.
“Anchor’s good,” Pascal shouted from above.
“You okay?” Erica called out.
“I broke a couple of fingernails and bruised my ego, but otherwise I’m fine,” Raul called down, reaching for the handhold again.
“Rest for a few minutes,” Erica said. “I don’t want the royal manicurist any more pissed at me.”
That surprised a laugh out of him, relieving a small amount of his terror and frustration at his failure.
“Experienced climbers know when to take a break,” she said.
“Mierda,” he muttered before shouting, “Okay, tension!” He would let her hold his weight for now.
“Gotcha,” she returned the standard response.
Wouldn’t she get tired in that braced position? She had Dario as backup, but Raul could tell the bodyguard wasn’t taking any of the load. Caray! The woman was a badass.
Raul shook out his arms and let them dangle loosely for a couple of minutes before he chalked his sweaty hands and found the ledge with his toes again. He couldn’t remember if there was a specific signal that he was ready to go again so he yelled, “Climbing.”
“Climb on,” Erica responded.
He caught the jut of rock he had been aiming for and eased himself into the chimney that was the next section of the climb. Erica had called this the easy part because he could use his legs more than his arms by bracing his feet on the opposing sides of the chimney.
His confidence began to return as he stemmed up the natural formation, his arms getting a little bit of a rest.
Then he hit the crux—the hardest part—of the route and paused to chalk his hands. It was like a chess game, always figuring several moves ahead. He would not fall this time.
Hand. Foot. Stretch. Cling. Pull. Toe. Hook.
His muscles shook, but he focused on the next ledge, the next pocket, the next flake.
And then he was reaching for the horn, the big, easy-to-grip jut of rock that marked the end of the crux.
“Eight more feet and you’ll send it,” Pascal called down to him from his position at the top of the cliff.
Somewhere inside himself, Raul found a reserve of energy and hurled himself up the final stretch of rock.
Flattening his hands on the last ledge above him, he hauled himself up and over, rolling onto the top of the cliff to lie flat on his back, staring at the sky.
He had made it. Triumph fizzed through him, and he gave a gasping whoop.
“Congratulations, Monseigneur .” Pascal’s face came into his field of vision. “You topped out.”
“That was incredible!” Raul said, knowing he was grinning like a fool.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” The bodyguard offered his hand. Raul grasped it, and Pascal pulled him to his feet without seeming effort.
“I fell, though,” Raul said, remembering the moments of pure terror when he’d felt his fingers slip off the handhold. Not to mention having to be saved by Erica.
“Everyone falls.” Pascal handed him a bottle of water. “It means you’re challenging yourself, so that’s good. Otherwise, you wouldn’t need the rope.”
“I’m not going to fall the next time,” Raul said in a promise to himself before he took a long drink. His mouth was dry from exertion, chalk dust, and altitude. Handing the bottle back to Pascal, he said, “I’m doing it again.”
“Bien s?r,” Pascal said with a smile of understanding. “Of course. You’re hooked now.”
“Ready to lower!” Raul called down to Erica.
“Lowering,” she responded.
He swung out over the ledge, all his weight on the rope as he dangled a hundred feet in the air.
A rush of nerves tightened his chest, but then he was moving downward in a slow, smooth glide.
He glanced down to see Erica braced against the wall, her face turned up to him, her hands fisted around the rope as she controlled its slide through her grip.
After about twenty feet, he could get his feet on the rock and walk down, which made him feel like he was helping ease the burden on her.
His feet touched the ground, and exhilaration flowed through him. “That was estupendo! ” He wanted to pick Erica up and spin her in circles.
However, she stood with her hands wrapped firmly around the rope, her expectant gaze on him.
“Oh, right. Off belay,” Raul said with a grin.
“Belay off,” she said, letting the rope go and giving him a smile in return. “ Buen trabajo! You did great, especially for a gumby.”
“A gumby?”
“A beginner,” she said, her smile widening.
“Because my muscles feel like rubber?” he asked.
“I think it’s because a beginner’s climbing is a little awkward and clumsy like the character,” she said. “Yours wasn’t, though.”
“You’re being kind.” But he felt a glow from her praise. “Any success I had was due to my excellent teacher and belayer.”
“Muchas gracias.” A shadow crossed her face, and he wondered what had caused it.
“I want to climb again,” Raul said.
“Take a fifteen-minute break and drink some water,” she said, releasing herself from the rope. “I could use a drink myself.”
“It’s thirsty work,” Raul said, unclipping himself from the rope and accepting a water bottle from Dario.
When he lifted the bottle, there were smears of blood on it.
He hadn’t even noticed that his fingers were covered in cuts from the climb.
Now he understood Gabriel’s lack of concern when he sliced his fingers on guitar strings before his calluses formed.
Being so focused on a task freed you from both mental and physical pain.
He flexed his chalk-covered hands, reveling in the evidence of his profound effort.
Erica grabbed her bottle and plunked down on a boulder before taking a long guzzle of water. She looked more exhausted than he felt.
Guilt nipped at him. “I’m too heavy for you,” he said, sitting on the rock next to hers.
She shook her head. “I’ve belayed larger guys.”
Then he understood that he added extra figurative weight because he was the prince, and guilt jabbed at him. Would he ever get used to being as much a symbol as a man?
“You’ll feel lighter now that I know you can handle yourself,” she said.
Pleasure pulsed through him at her compliment. “If I swear not to do anything stupid, will it help?”
“Nobody thinks they’re doing something stupid when they do it,” she said before taking another long swallow of water.
The truth of that hit him like a punch to the gut.
He and Gabriel had thought they were having some harmless fun when they shook off their bodyguards to go to a rowdy party in Barcelona.
When they left the party, the kidnappers had struck, dragging Gabriel off to a van at gunpoint while Raul watched helplessly.
“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know where that came from. Drink your water, and you can head up the rock face again.”
“Don’t apologize for being wise,” Raul said. “I will make a different promise to you. I will listen to what you tell me.”
“That’s far more useful, even if I don’t believe it.” She tossed him a wry look.
“My job requires that I not only listen, but that I actually hear what people are saying.” He returned her look. “Only occasionally do I fall asleep.”
She choked on a laugh. “Well, there’s no fear of that when you’re climbing.” For a moment, they locked gazes, and a tension built between them.
She snapped her water bottle closed. “Are you ready to go again?”
He stood. “This time, I will not fall.”