Page 35 of Suddenly Tempted
It feltamazing. The moment Devlin closed the door a wave of relief poured over her like she was standing in a warm shower. The building wasn’t exactly tropical, but it was well insulated, and certainly more comfortable than the brutal mountain climate outside. They stood in a small, bright hallway, the scent of mint and something inherently masculine flooded her nose as Devlin shook off the halo of snow from his hair. She turned and angled her head to see his face. This close, she had a face full of his broad shoulders.
“Do you think there’s anyone here?” she asked. “How does this work?”
Devlin’s teeth were chattering so hard he couldn’t speak so he simply shrugged.
“Hello?” Darcy called out, wishing with all her heart that a bunch of rangers would come pouring through one of the two doors leading from the hallway, wrapping them in blankets and feeding them gallons of hot chocolate as they whisked them into a helicopter bound for home.
There was no reply. The building wasn’t exactly big, so if somebody was here they would have heard her call. Still, she tried again, opening the door to the right to see a large, open living quarters complete with kitchen and lounge area. There was even a pool table and a TV.
“Hello?” she called again.
“Hey, is anyone here?” Devlin shouted, his teeth still chattering wildly. He opened the other door into a garage, but when she peered over his shoulder, she saw that it was empty.
“Maybe they’re out looking for us?” she said, but Devlin shook his head.
“I didn’t see any tracks,” he said, shivering. “They’d have been visible in the snow. No, I think this place is empty. Solar lights, they stay on all year.”
The building didn’t have that same neglected air as the research hut had. This room felt like it had breathed in the last year at least. Devlin walked around her, and Darcy followed him into the living area. The sofa called to her with its comfortable, if dated-looking cushions, but she willed her legs to keep going. An open door led to a bunkroom, with a toilet and shower, and another, through the kitchen, led into an office. They walked into the office, and Devlin burst out laughing when he saw the huge, modern radio set sitting on the desk. Darcy felt another giant wave of relief.
“Thank goodness,” he said. “We’re going to be okay.”
He reached up and tucked a stray lock of her hair out of her eyes and back under her hat. The action was so simple, yet Darcy felt her whole body tingle at the touch of his cold fingers on her skin. Their eyes caught. Neither of them in a hurry to look away and Darcy’s belly flooded with warmth.
“We’re going to be okay.” Her mouth was dry.
In the quiet, and stillness, and calm, she found herself leaning towards Devlin. He mirrored her, until they were so close she could feel his breath on her lips. She felt her own lips part, a pulse of electricity running between them, static energising every part of her that was touching him.
Then Devlin shuddered violently, his teeth clacking together like castanets.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m just really, really c-cold.”
“Oh, man, sorry,” Darcy said, stepping back. Her cheeks lit up like a furnace, and she grew so hot she had to unzip her coat. “I’m going to go in search of some warm clothes, you see what you can do with this radio. Deal?”
He nodded and she left the office, running into the bunkroom and opening one of half a dozen lockers that ran along one wall. They were stuffed full of brand-new clothes and thermal equipment, and she rooted through them until she found something in Devlin’s size. Large. Scooping it up, she returned to the office to see him sitting at the desk, his sore arm hanging limply at his side. In his good arm he held the radio receiver in gripped fingers, his thumb on the button shaking so wildly with the coldness that had seeped into his bones, it didn’t stay active. He let it go, growling.
Darcy skipped over to him and placed the down-filled jacket over his shoulders, careful not to touch his broken arm. He shrugged it on further and tucked his chin into the high funnel neck that looked like it was lined with rabbit fur. Darcy was almost 100 percent sure it was fake, or she might have thrown it out of the window.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice muffled. “I just need a minute to melt the iceberg that’s formed around my brain, then I’ll get us rescued.”
Darcy tugged at her hat.
“Do you want me to . . . go?”
“Stay,” Devlin answered without taking a beat.
Darcy had been about to offer to look for food or a first-aid kit that was higher tech than a stick and some bandage, but his order took her words from her lips.
“Please,” he added, the rumble of his voice a tonic. “Stay.”
Darcy nodded, for once lost for words. She drew her lips into her mouth, dropped silently into the seat next to him, and watched patiently as Devlin’s shivers subsided.
After a minute, or maybe ten, he emerged from the cocoon of his (faux) fur collar and huffed out a breath.
“Thank you,” he said again, staring at the receiver. He picked it up and pressed the button. “Hello, can anyone hear me? This is Devlin Storm, and Darcy Wainwright. We flew out of the Royal Alpine yesterday evening and crashed on the mountain. We are both okay, and currently located at . . .”
He looked around, and so did Darcy. She spotted a piece of paper pinned to a drawing board with a fire escape plan on it. It had the station code written at the top.
“Four, eleven, F, T,” she read.
