Chapter 3
DEVLIN
“Is this the fastest you can go?”
Devlin paced back and forth, checking his watch every thirty seconds. There was still so much to do, and the storm was closer than ever. Every time a gust of wind blew, the whole hangar seemed to tremble, and from the sound of the snow drumming on the tin roof, visibility would already be poor. His heart was pounding in his chest. He did have his pilot’s license, and he’d flown helicopters before, but not this one, and not for a long time.
He had to do it, though. So much was riding on this trip.
He glanced to his side, seeing the other reason that his heart was beating so fast. The cute, doe-eyed receptionist stood there, furiously chewing her nails and looking like a rabbit that had been cornered by a fox. Most women would give anything for half an hour with Devlin Storm, but this girl — Darcy — seemed to want nothing more than to get away from him.
There was something unexpectedly attractive about that. Ordinarily, people spoke to him like he was royalty. They complimented him, and sucked up to him, and said whatever they thought he wanted to hear. This girl, though, had stood her ground and told him where to go. That showed a surprising amount of strength for someone so terrified.
She caught him looking and scowled at him, turning her back. He couldn’t resist a smile, but it didn’t last long. Another fist of wind shook the building and he checked his watch.
“Come on!” he yelled.
“We’re moving as fast as we can, Mr. Storm,” said Abigail. “Please be patient.”
The Bell 525 Relentless was being wheeled towards the hangar doors, piloted by the balding man. Devlin would have done it himself, but Abigail had forbidden him. Another insurance matter, probably. He had a good mind to buy the entire resort just so that he could burn their insurance policy to the ground, but he couldn’t be bothered with the hassle. Maybe he’d do it when he got back home.
If he ever got back, that was. This was taking for ever.
“Come with me,” he ordered Darcy, striding towards the hangar door. It was open, and drifts of snow poured in on the wind. He’d almost reached it when he heard a strange noise behind him. Turning back, he saw the girl there, her arms folded over her chest and her teeth chattering like castanets. She was dressed in a shirt and a knee-length black skirt, a pair of cheap black pumps on her feet.
Devlin sighed, rolling his eyes. He walked swiftly back the way he’d come, heading for a small room behind the desk. He knew from experience that this is where the pilots kept their kit, and after a quick rummage on the shelves he came out with an armload of gear.
“Here, put this on,” he said, handing her a huge, orange thermal jacket and trousers. She did as she was told, zipping the jacket right up to her neck. She looked ridiculous, like an orange snowman. He handed her a wool hat, and some gloves, which she took without a word. Her expression had softened a little, though, which he hoped was gratitude.
By the time he’d reached the main hangar door again the chopper was on the helipad, the rotors spinning lazily. The balding man was climbing out, and Devlin put his head down, charging through the bitterly cold wind.
“You sure you wanna go up there?” the man asked, glancing at the sky. It was as dark as evening now, even though Devlin’s watch told him it was only just past four. Threatening clouds rolled over the distant peaks, heavy with snow and coming this way fast. For a moment, he wasn’t sure at all. Then he took a deep breath and nodded.
“Radio the airport. I need them to clear a landing space and hold it for me.”
The man nodded, then scurried back to the hangar. Darcy was struggling across the open ground to the helipad, and Devlin waved her on impatiently. He climbed into the cockpit, taking his seat. He expected the girl to make her way into the back of the helicopter — where six luxury leather chairs waited, along with a minibar — but she climbed in beside him, brushing snow from her shoulders. He almost asked her to move, but there was no time.
Besides, as she pulled off her hat and smoothed a gloved hand over her chocolate-coloured hair, he felt something inside him stir. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have her next to him to take his mind off the storm.
The girl looked at him, saying something that was lost behind the growl of the engine. Devlin pulled on a pair of headphones and handed another set to her. After a second or two, her sweet voice filtered through into his ears.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” she asked.
“Completely,” he replied. “Now keep quiet and let me concentrate.”
He pulled back the cyclic and the big chopper responded instantly, rocking on its pads. Darcy squeaked, her hands gripping the sides of her seat as the helicopter rose gracefully. Past Devlin’s calm exterior, his pulse raced — especially when another gust of wind shook the machine like a child shaking a toy.
“I’ve never been in a helicopter before,” the girl said, her voice trembling with nerves. “I mean, I’ve flown plenty of times. Well, twice. I flew over here from Wisconsin, for work. That was, like, four years ago now. It was supposed to be an amazing new job, you know, a life-changing experience, but it didn’t work out.”
Why on earth was she telling him this now? Devlin was focusing too hard on the controls to tell her to be quiet again. They were a hundred feet up now, the resort already like a model village beneath them. Up here the wind was fiercer than ever, but the helicopter was state of the art — it should be, for the price tag it came with — and it felt stable. He lifted them higher, then banked to the side. The girl screamed again, then started talking even faster, like she was a fizzy drink that had been shaken and opened.
“Nothing’s worked out, to be honest. Not since I’ve been here. You see, I spent all my money getting over here, and when the job fell through, I was stuck. I can’t afford to get home. My folks aren’t around, and none of my friends are rich, and the cost of moving me and my life back to Wisconsin is just too much. I’ve been working—”
Devlin banked the chopper again and she squealed. The sky was dark in every direction but one, and even though it was the wrong way for the airport, he pushed the chopper east. It roared effortlessly through the sky, still climbing.
“Oh god,” the girl went on. “I forgot where I was. Yes, I worked here and there and everywhere. Ski places mainly, although I don’t really ski. Climbing places, but I don’t climb either. Adventure holidays, although I don’t really do adventures. They scare me. Then I found myself at the Royal Alpine last week, when a position opened up on reception. Penny’s a friend of mine. She’s from London believe it or not. She told me about it and I jumped at the chance. It’s about the most exciting thing to happen to me in the last four years, although I have to confess, I’m regretting it a bit now.”
She made a funny noise, and Devlin glanced at her. He had never actually seen somebody turn green before, but she was definitely close. He had a sudden urge to comfort her, to rub her back to help ease her nausea.
“Do not throw up in my helicopter,” he said instead, fighting another squall. Snow drummed against the windscreen, the chopper’s wiper blades sweeping back and forth. The girl nodded.
“Okay,” she answered, a hand to her mouth. Amazingly, though, she kept on talking.
“I thought maybe I might make some new friends here,” she said. “Friends are helpful, don’t you think? We all need friends. Have you got friends? Of course you have, look at you. And there are so many famous people I wanted to spot. Maybe they might want to be my friends too. Probably not. But I haven’t even had time to look, and now I won’t even get the chance to speak to people at the ball, because I’m stuck in this death trap with you.”
At this, Devlin laughed. He managed to conceal it with a cough, scowling at the young woman.
“You want to explain to me why you’re telling me your life story?” he asked, hearing the venom in his voice and hating it. It wasn’t like the girl was doing anything wrong.
“I’m not,” the girl replied, throwing back a scowl of her own. “I just talk when I’m nervous. Nobody asked you to listen to it.”
“It’s kind of hard with the headphones on,” he said.
“Then take them off,” she replied. “They make you look ridiculous anyway.”
“You’re one to talk,” he said, trying to ignore her for long enough to focus on the airspace ahead of him. They were still heading east, towards the biggest mountain in the area. Even though they were close to a thousand feet, it still towered above them. If he was hoping to get to the airport, he really needed to turn north now and skim between this peak and the one next to it — easy enough to do.
But he wasn’t heading for the airport.
“I’m not going to say anything else,” the girl said, pretending to zip her mouth closed. “I’m not going to say another word about how rude you are. It’s really uncalled for. If my mum was still around, she’d have something to say about that, about your awful behaviour. Dad, too, God rest his soul.”
Devlin had a sudden pang of sympathy that both of her parents had passed on. He risked another look at her, seeing how vulnerable she looked, how fragile. Her eyes were the biggest he’d ever seen — they reminded him of a baby rabbit’s. Her whole face was soft and warm and welcoming, and it hurt him a little to know that he had caused such furious words to come out of such a perfect mouth.
“Mum always told me manners don’t cost a penny, and they don’t, do they? So perhaps you could think about that next time you open that mouth of yours. Maybe you could think about what other people are going through. We don’t all live in ￡11,000-a-night rooms and fly around in million-dollar helicopters.”
“Fifteen million,” he corrected, gripping the cyclic hard as he steered slightly south into the wind. “This cost fifteen million.”
He heard her swallow through his headphones.
“That’s just ridiculous,” she said. “Think of all the good you could do with that money, all the — Hey, why are you going south-east? The airport is that way.”
Devlin raised an eyebrow. The girl was smarter than he’d given her credit for.
“There’s something I need to do first,” he announced.
“Uh-uh,” she replied, shaking her head. “That wasn’t the deal. It’s too dangerous.”
“If you don’t like it, you’re welcome to get out,” he said, increasing their speed and pushing the helicopter closer to the giant mountain. “It won’t take long. Just think about how far that fifty grand will take you.”
“A hundred,” she replied, quickly.
“What?”
“You upped my fee to one hundred thousand, remember?”
Devlin grunted, he had a vague recollection of a double or nothing bribe.
“Whatever. Fifty, a hundred, either would get you all the way to Wisconsin, although who knows why you’d want to go back there.”
“You just can’t help it, can you?” she said. “You must be a sad man, Mr. Storm, if it takes so much effort to be nice.”
That actually stung him. He clamped his mouth shut before he could reply, adjusting their bearing slightly. The mountain took up almost the whole of the windshield now, and the snow was so thick he could barely see. But he thought he could make out a glow right ahead, the bright bulbs of another landing pad.
“Hold on,” he said. “This could get bumpy.”
The girl was already holding on, her knuckles white. Devlin craned forward in his seat and saw the ground rising beneath them. They were close enough now that he could make out the individual trees. That was definitely a landing pad ahead, and he nudged the helicopter towards it. Another squall rocked them hard, and the girl shrieked.
“You’re too close!” she yelled.
“It’s fine,” he replied, but that was a lie, because just at that moment the engine gave a mighty lurch, and the helicopter’s alarm started blaring.