Chapter 31
DARCY
“Anything?”
Darcy looked over at Penny, whose nose was practically pushed up against her computer monitor. The lobby of the Royal Alpine was eerily quiet, its usual energy sapped after the ball. Most of the guests had flown out, their luxurious stays cut short after the excitement had died down.
According to Penny, half a dozen of them had stayed on to join the search for Devlin and Darcy — including Blake Fielding and Jackson Brodie — but even they had now departed since they had been found safe and well. The lobby, usually bustling with guests in chic winter gear, felt like a hollow shell, echoing with a silence that was pressing on Darcy from all angles, not least her phone which she was checking every few minutes for a message from Devlin. He might not have taken her number, but he was Devlin Storm and if he wanted it, he could have found it.
The whole resort was oddly quiet, so quiet that manager Abigail Lamb had told Darcy not to come back for a day or two. But the truth was that the silence at home was even worse, so she’d dragged herself to work that morning, hoping for a semblance of normalcy.
“Nothing,” Penny said, flatly. “Just the same official message from Claudia Romano.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Darcy, feeling her heart freeze over again. “I don’t understand.”
The last forty-eight hours had been nothing short of a nightmare — worse than crashing in the mountains. Way worse. After being flown to the base camp, Darcy had been transported by ambulance to the nearest hospital. It had all been a blur — the white lights overhead, the cool, efficiency of the doctors and nurses as they had poked and prodded her. Their conclusion had been a relief, pronouncing her surprisingly healthy if a little dehydrated. They’d kept her in for that first night anyway, just to be sure. Sleep had been elusive, and the sterile smell of the ward had done nothing to soothe her nerves. All she wanted to know was where Devlin was and how he was doing. But when she’d asked the hospital staff to contact the clinic where he was being treated, they had refused. She’d pleaded with them, begged them, but to no avail. Celebrity privacy was taken very seriously here, it would seem.
No matter how much she told them Devlin wouldn’t mind, they still refused. And the longer the silence went on, the more Darcy wondered if Devlin would, in fact, mind.
The drive back to her apartment had felt endless as she clung to the hope that there would be something waiting for her when she got there. A message, a phone call, something to let her know if he was alive or not. But there was nothing. It felt worse than anything she’d ever endured, worse than the days when she’d nearly died in the helicopter crash and then endured in the freezing cold snow.
At least, that’s what she had thought until she’d flicked on the TV.
The image on the screen had hit her like a sledgehammer to the chest. The leading story on every channel had been that billionaire Devlin Storm was alive and well. There was footage of the helicopter landing at the private clinic, Devlin being wheeled out on a stretcher looking pale but very much alive. There had been a brief, dismissive mention of Darcy — the ‘unnamed woman’ who had been with Devlin was also ‘believed to be well’. No name, no recognition of what they’d been through together. Just a footnote to the story of Devlin Storm, billionaire survivor.
But the real devastation had come moments later when Claudia Romano appeared on the screen. Darcy had sat on the floor, cross-legged like a child, in front of the little television and watched with growing horror as the beautiful, icy, blonde woman spoke to the reporters with such grace and poise. Her words like daggers to Darcy’s heart.
“Thank you for being here,” Claudia had said, her voice smooth and practised as if she’d delivered these lines a thousand times. “Thank you for caring. Devlin has been through a truly terrifying experience, and the doctors say he hasn’t fully regained consciousness. Being out there, alone, I just can’t imagine what it must have been like. I’ve flown in especially from a shoot in Tuscany, and I plan to be here by Devlin’s side until he fully recovers.”
Darcy had felt the blood drain from her face as the woman had paused, flicking back her hair and looking right at the camera.
“In fact,” she had added. “I plan on never leaving his side again. Devlin is the love of my life. I just had to almost lose him for ever before I truly realised it.”
The reporters had swarmed Claudia with questions, but she hadn’t faltered. With the ease of a runway model, she had turned on her heels and strode away, disappearing into the clinic, and leaving Darcy shattered in front of the television. The tears had come then, hot and heavy as she tried to reconcile the man she had been in the snow with to the man Claudia had spoken about.
“Are you sure you don’t want to get out of here,” said Penny, bringing Darcy back to the moment. “I’ve got this under control. Why don’t you go and relax? Maybe Abigail will let you use the spa.”
Darcy shook her head. “I don’t want to be on my own.” The words came out in just a whisper, a confession she hadn’t meant to make, but it had just slipped out.
“Maybe she’ll let us both use it,” Penny replied with a laugh. Darcy’s face fell even further and Penny reached over, putting a gentle hand on her arm. “Look, I don’t know what happened out there. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it’s been — it must have been terrible — and I don’t know what Devlin was like, what he was really like, but you’ve got to remember who he is. He’s Devlin Storm, Darcy. He’s famous. And he’s with her .” She nodded to a picture of Claudia on her monitor. “I hate to say it, but three days freezing your behinds off together in the snow isn’t going to put you in the same league. I’m sorry, that’s horrible, but it’s true.”
And the worst thing was, Darcy knew it was true. It wasn’t a fairy tale. It wasn’t some grand romance where the billionaire fell for the ordinary girl. Yet, she couldn’t shake the memory of their time together. She couldn’t erase Devlin’s words from out of her head.
I think I love you, too, Darcy .
He’d been so sincere when he’d said it, she just couldn’t accept that he didn’t mean it. There had been a vulnerability in his eyes, a rare softness that she was still clinging to. But the doubts were creeping in. What if it had been a lie? What if it had all been a lie, an empty promise, a fleeting sentiment to get him through scattering his mum’s ashes after the trauma they’d already suffered together?
And then there was Claudia — stunningly beautiful, sophisticated Claudia Romano. Everything Devlin had told Darcy about her, how cold and detached she was, how their relationship turned into a facade the moment she sold their story — were those lies too? Could he have been playing her? Was she a diversion, a distraction from the reality of life? Or was Devlin just attracted to that kind of woman? Maybe everything he’d said to her, everything he’d done, was an act. Maybe the arrogant, devilish Devlin, the ones the tabloids adored, who charmed and discarded women like toys, was the real one after all.
No . She wouldn’t believe it. She just wouldn’t.
“Just go stretch your legs,” Penny said. “Get some air. No point sitting here pining over him. You’ll drive yourself crazy.”
Darcy nodded, pushing herself to her feet. This whole thing was torture. She left the reception desk and crossed the lobby, seeing the reporters clustered outside. Abigail had strictly forbidden her from speaking with the press, saying that it would be a direct violation of the resort’s privacy policy. But what would she say anyway? She didn’t have answers to her own questions, let alone theirs.
She turned around and headed for the staff door instead.
“Darcy!” Penny called her name.
“What?” Darcy asked, turning back.
“It’s just been announced,” Penny said, cautiously. “He’s awake.”
Darcy felt her world tilt, her pulse thudding in her ears as she ran and stood behind Penny, looking at the screen. It was true, Devlin had woken up a short while ago and was doing fine. Darcy let out a breath in a hard stutter, bracing herself on the back of Penny’s chair so that she didn’t fall over. So that was the reason he hadn’t been in touch — he simply hadn’t been able to. The relief was like stepping into a warm bath after a cold day. Any moment now Devlin would call her. He’d tell her how he felt, and everything would be fine.
“Thank goodness,” she said.
Penny was scrolling down the article, but Darcy didn’t care what it said. At least, she thought she didn’t, but then something caught her eye at the bottom of the page that made her stomach lurch.
“Wait, what did that say?” she asked, her voice tight.
Penny scrolled back to the section, her face paling.
“Devlin has announced that he will be holding a press conference shortly after one,” Penny read. “Alongside his girlfriend, Claudia.”
“No,” said Darcy, her voice just a breath.
But how could she deny it? Beneath the text was a photograph, snapped through the hospital window that very morning, of Devlin and Claudia, their hands tightly clenched.