Page 57 of Suddenly Tempted
“Do you really want them to?” he asked, brow raised.
Darcy glared at him.
“Of course I do,” she said. “He might be worried about me.”
“Sure,” said the ranger. “Devlin Storm, the guy who only worries about himself.”
He laughed, walking towards the building. Darcy waited for the helicopter to take off, but it stayed where it was, the rotors spinning.
Please let him wake up, she said.Please let him run after me, pick me up, hold me tight.
But there was no sign of Devlin. She turned, following the ranger to the base station. There might be somebody she could talk to inside, somebody who could give her more information.
“Miss Wainwright!” yelled one of the reporters as she passed them. “How are you doing? How did it feel to almost die?”
“Darcy!” called another. “How is Devlin? Is he seriously ill?”
“How was it being locked in a cabin with Mr. Storm?” shouted a third. “Most women would pay for that kind of experience!”
The reporters laughed, and Darcy felt her blood boil. She ignored them, walking through a door into the building. A medical team was waiting for her there, complete with a stretcher. A doctor stepped forward, smoothing back his slick, black hair.
“Miss Wainwright,” he said in a strong accent. “We’re here to take you to the hospital. After an experience like the one you have just had, you will most certainly need a check-up and medical care.”
She didn’t need medical care, she needed Devlin.
“Look, I . . .”
She stopped speaking when she heard a surge of excited shouts from outside. For a wonderful moment she thought it was Devlin, stepping out of the helicopter so that he could embrace her. But when she turned to the big glass door she saw that a sleek, black limousine had pulled up alongside the helicopter.
“Miss Wainwright, please,” said the doctor, but Darcy ignored him.
Somebody was climbing out of the car, a stunning blonde wearing a fur coat and sunglasses. The helicopter door opened and she walked up the steps and climbed inside. Moments later, it lifted off the landing pad and soared into the perfect blue sky. The reporters were still calling out the woman’s name, as if they expected her to answer from up in the air. Darcy didn’t need them to tell her who it was, though. She didn’t need anyone to tell her who had climbed into the helicopter beside Devlin. She had recognised the woman instantly.
It was Claudia Romano.
Chapter 30
DEVLIN
For a moment, when Devlin opened his eyes, he thought he was back in the snow. It was freezing, and his teeth were still chattering. The room around him was dark, the soft glow of early morning creeping in through the windows, but his mind was foggy, disorientated. He rubbed his eyes, trying to piece together the events of the last few days.
Slowly, the memories came rushing back. He remembered the crash — the chaos, the biting cold, and the sheer panic that had followed. He remembered finding the research cabin, the desperate trek through the mountains, the ravine that had nearly swallowed him whole. But more than anything, he remembered the outpost, the quiet sanctuary where he’d found shelter from more than just the storm.
He remembered Darcy.
The night he’d spent with her was still vivid in his mind. The warmth of her body, the way she made him feel. They way she’d ignored his stupid note and helped him to spread his mum’s ashes. He’d only had the strength to do it because of Darcy. She’d been there for him, as steadfast as the mountain they stood on. If it hadn’t been for her, the experience would have broken him.
Then what, though? He dug into his cloudy memories, seeing the walk back down the slope, then the chopper ride, the relief of being rescued, and the joy of flying home with Darcy. He must have fallen asleep, or maybe even passed out.
He sat up, squinting into the sleepy darkness of a small room. The blinds were drawn, although beads of warm light squeezed through and pooled on the floor. There were machines everywhere, bleeping softly, and through a half-open door he could hear the unmistakable sounds of a hospital.
“Finally,” said a voice from the far corner of the room. Devlin peered into the shadows to see a woman there, nothing more than a silhouette. He broke into a smile without even realising it.
“Darcy,” he said. “You’re okay, thank goodness.”
“Darcy?” the woman said, and as he recognised the Italian accent, his temperature dropped back to dangerous levels.
The woman sashayed to the bed, the light falling on her face. Claudia was as superficially perfect as ever. Devlin shook his head.
