Chapter 8
DARCY
Darcy left Devlin on the sofa and walked out into the corridor. She was shaking, and not just from the cold. The events of the last couple of hours had left her feeling more tired than she had ever felt in her life. The whole thing felt surreal, like a bad dream, and part of her wished she would wake up in her bed back home — in her warm, comfortable, soft, boring bed.
Boring? She wondered where that word had come from. She’d never really thought of her bed as boring before. But it was. Her whole life was warm, comfortable, soft, and boring. She hated adventure, and other than travelling to Europe four years ago to start a new life — a huge leap of an adventure she deeply regretted — she had stayed as far away from them as it was possible to be. Adventures were cold, and uncomfortable, and dangerous, and they certainly weren’t for her. The last few hours had cemented that.
So why was her heart drumming so hard? What she was feeling was nerves, sure, and panic, but it was something else, too. If she didn’t know better, she’d almost say she felt excited. And as much as part of her wanted to be home, there was a part of her that prayed she wouldn’t wake up in her bed, because if this was a dream, then so was Devlin.
Enough, she told herself. It had to be the adrenaline talking, because there was absolutely no part of her that was attracted to Devlin’s impossibly handsome face, or his athletic torso, or that infuriating bad-boy facade.
Right? Right?
Pushing the thoughts out of her head, Darcy passed the storeroom and walked all the way to the front of the cabin. She used the bathroom, checking the cabinets to find them all empty, then examined the boxes they’d seen on their way in. There were a few magazines in one, their pages yellowed with age, and in the other were more papers, these ones more official looking. Darcy dug through them until she found a map of the mountains. Pulling it free, she tucked it under her arm then grabbed another two logs for the fire.
“Here,” she said, returning to the living room and passing the map to Devlin. “This might help. Map reading is not one of my skills, but I’m sure you know your way around an Ordinance Survey. And if you don’t, then we’ll have to figure it out together.”
He took it without a word, and she dumped the logs by the fire before walking back out of the room. This time she made her way into the bedroom. Both beds were made up, which was a relief. The linen felt cold, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t damp. There wasn’t much else here, just a handful of personal items like toothbrushes and shaving equipment in the locker. Darcy grabbed the linen from the beds and carried it through, dumping it on the sofa. Then she went back and grabbed the mattress from the closest bed, hefting it down the corridor and putting it in front of the fire. She did the same with the other one, panting with exhaustion and actually sweating by the time she’d manoeuvred it into place. Devlin sat there, one eyebrow raised.
“Thanks for the help,” she grunted, collapsing onto one of the mattresses.
“You’re welcome,” he replied, flashing her an infuriating smile. He held up the map. “You want the good news or the bad news?”
“I can’t see how there would be any good news whatsoever,” she said. “So, start with the bad.”
“We’re not where I thought we were,” he said, tapping the map. “I was right, this is an old research station. It’s marked here in pen. The ranger station I was hoping to find is a couple of miles east of here, and a thousand feet or so over our heads.”
Darcy felt a cold trickle of dread in her stomach.
“And the good news?” she asked.
“Well, you were right,” he said. “There isn’t any, really. We just have to hope the storm clears long enough for somebody to find us.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Darcy asked. Devlin sighed.
“Then we have two choices. We either make the trek up the mountain in order to find the ranger station. There will be help there, and if not, there will definitely be a radio.”
“Or?” she asked.
“Or we try to find our way back to the resort, which is at least ten miles in the other direction. Judging by the map, it’s a dangerous route. That ravine we nearly ended up in is just one of dozens.”
“Great,” said Darcy. “So we really are stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
“A cold place,” he replied quicky, lifting the map a little and covering what Darcy could have sworn was a blush rising on his cheeks. “A cold snowy place.”
“Not a hard place?” she asked, feeling her own cheeks blaze like the fire. “I’m sure that’s the saying. A rock and a hard place, no? Am I wrong? I’m probably wrong.”
Shut up, Darcy. Stop talking now.
Devlin cleared his throat and shook the map out to reopen the corners. He studied it closely for a beat too long and Darcy wanted the mattress to open up and swallow her whole.
“We’ll be okay,” Devlin said, eventually. “You just have to trust me, we’re going to be okay. We can do this. Just stick with me and I’ll get you out of here.”
The bubble of embarrassment popped immediately at the idea she could trust this man to get her home safely when he was the one who put her in this position.
“My hero,” Darcy said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She stopped herself before she could say any more, swallowing down her frustrations. Devlin was right, arguing would get them nowhere. Whatever happened next, they had to learn to work together. They had to learn to look after one another. Darcy sighed deeply and patted the mattress next to hers. “Come on, you’ll freeze up there.”
“You sure?” he asked, and she nodded.
Devlin eased himself onto the mattress, resting back against the sofa. She did the same, so that they were sitting side by side, almost touching. The fire popped and roared at the end of their makeshift bed. For a moment, it was almost possible to forget about the storm, and the fact they were stranded. Darcy had dreamed about moments like this — sitting in front of a blazing fire in the middle of nowhere with a handsome man.
Only in those dreams the man had been kind as well as handsome.
She glanced at Devlin. He was lost in the flickering flames, those green eyes incredibly intense. He still looked powerful, and dangerous, but there was a vulnerability there she hadn’t really noticed before. He was a man who was used to being in control, she knew, and right now he looked lost.
“Are you all right?” she asked, and he stirred as if he had been deep in thought.
“What do you think?” he snapped. He took a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m fine. I’ve been in worse places.”
“Really?” she questioned. “Worse than this?”
“That near-death experience in Colorado was worse,” he said. “And one time I was jet-skiing in the Maldives and I hit a reef. I had to swim half a mile back through shark-infested waters.”
“ Seriously ?” Darcy said. Devlin nodded, looking almost proud for a moment before Darcy went on. “That has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Why?” he asked, turning to her.
“Because it’s dangerous,” she said. “You could have died.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a little danger,” he argued, returning his attention to the fire. “People used to think fire was dangerous, but without it we wouldn’t have been able to survive. Maybe it’s the same with life. The dangerous moments are the ones that truly make us feel alive.”
“I don’t believe that,” Darcy said. “I think people who chase that danger, chase those extremes, I think they’re missing something else in their life. I think they’re scared of life.”
“Says the girl who’s scared of everything,” he retorted.
“I am not.”
“You worked in a ski resort, but you’re scared of skiing,” he said. “You worked in a climbing place but are scared of climbing. You worked in an adventure trekking place but are scared of adventure. Did I get that right?”
So, he had been listening to her on the helicopter. Darcy didn’t know whether to be pleased or insulted. She shrugged. There wasn’t much point in arguing, because that’s exactly what she had said. And it was true. All of the opportunities life had thrown at her, she’d turned them down. Maybe he was right, maybe it was her who was scared of life. She shrugged, pulling the blanket up over her jumper. There was something she wanted to say, but she didn’t know how Devlin would react. Clearing her throat, she decided to trust him.
“My dad died when I was a kid,” she said. “He was a fisherman. He was the best sailor I knew. He could sail any boat like it was his best friend. He taught me how to sail, too. He was a big man, indestructible. At least, that’s what I thought.”
“What happened?” Devlin asked when she stopped. Darcy laughed, but there was no humour in it.
“A storm,” she said. “Mum begged him not to go out in it, but it was trout season and he didn’t listen. Like I said, he was an expert. He knew the lakes like he knew himself. So he went out, he just never came back.”
The storm howled outside the window, the cabin rattling in the wind.
“I’m sorry,” Devlin said, meeting her eye.
“He loved extremes too,” she confessed, her gaze caught in Devlin’s. “He loved adventure. And it killed him.”
She wiped a tear away, snuggling under the blanket.
“My dad was nothing like that,” Devlin said, and she noticed instantly that he spoke about his father in the past tense. “He was a coward. The only time he ever showed any interest in me was when I started to make serious money. That’s all he cared about. He sacrificed me and my mum for a few pounds in his pocket.”
“He’s passed on, too?” Darcy asked. Devlin shook his head.
“No, but he’s dead to me.”
“What about your mum?” she asked. It seemed utterly bizarre that she was sitting here by the fire, chatting with Devlin Storm. But what else were they supposed to be doing? A liquid warmth filled her belly as Devlin shifted on his mattress and his arm brushed against hers.
“She was . . .” Devlin took a shuddering sigh, and Darcy’s heart broke a little bit, thoughts firmly back where they should be. “She was amazing. She was a saint. I owe her everything. She always told me that fear was a good thing, because it showed you that you had something worth fighting for, worth living for. She never cared about money, or fame, or big houses, anything like that. She lived for a smile and a laugh and a good meal. She only passed away recently. Just four weeks ago. I wish . . .” He turned away from Darcy and she could have sworn she saw his eyes glisten with tears. When he turned back his face was closed, all the emotion wiped. “There’s no point wishing, though, is there? I can’t buy wishes.”
Darcy reached out her hand, then pulled it back. Then she reached out again and put it over Devlin’s good arm, offering what little comfort she could.
“I still can’t believe she’s not here anymore,” he said. “I’m never going to get used to it.”
“I know,” she replied, tucking her hand back beneath the blanket. “It’s okay to feel all the emotions right now. You have to let yourself grieve.”
Devlin nodded, and his eyes once again turned to the fire. She wondered if the conversation was thawing something inside him, the same way heat thawed the ice. Maybe Devlin Storm wasn’t just an arrogant billionaire.
There was another thing, too. When the helicopter had been about to crash, Devlin hadn’t tried to save himself, he’d tried to save her . He’d thrown himself onto her, cushioning her with his own body. She was fairly sure that was the reason he’d broken his arm, but if he hadn’t done it, she could have been seriously injured.
“Can I ask you something?” Darcy asked, eyes back on the fire.
“What?” he replied.
“Earlier, when the helicopter went down, did you try to protect me?”
He considered the question, then shook his head.
“I was going for the other controls,” he said. “I thought mine might have been damaged, and I wanted to try yours.”
She knew a lie when she heard it, even when it was being told by such a well-practised liar. But why wouldn’t he tell the truth about this? It wasn’t like it was a terrible thing, something to feel ashamed about.
“Well, thank you,” she said. He breathed a soft laugh, thawing a little more.
“No problem. As long as you know I wasn’t trying to protect you.”
“Sure,” she said through a smile. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Do you have to?” he asked.
“What was so important, up here in the mountains? What needed doing so much that you were willing to risk your life — our lives — to do it?”
Devlin turned away again, resting his head on the sofa. The room suddenly seemed ten degrees colder.
“You ask too many questions,” he said, once again turning to ice. “Now please stop talking and get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a difficult day.”