Almost sobbing with relief now, she waved at him and opened her mouth to call a warning that the ground fell away steeply, and closed it again. He was unclipping his skis and walking the last few feet. Unlike her he was not sliding and stumbling, but moving instead with an almost panther-like grace. The figure clad from head to toe in black approached.
Neve willed him to hurry. She was impatient to explain the situation and renew her search for Hannah.
‘I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you.’
He stood there for a moment. He might have been happy to see her too, or surprised or any number of things, but it was impossible to tell because his face was covered by a black ski mask. All she could see was the gleam of his eyes through the slits of the mask.
Without saying a word he extended a gloved hand and she took it, her eyes widening as she registered the steely strength of the man who dragged her to her feet.
‘Thank you so much.’ She tilted her head back to look her rescuer in the face. She had to tilt a long way; he was seriously tall. The overall effect of the mask and the all-black outfit was sinister, but, she was willing to admit, practical.
Her own face was numb but she was sure it was going to sting like crazy when the circulation returned to it and her frozen extremities.
‘Have you seen anyone else? A girl about fourteen?’
He didn’t respond to her anxious query, just carried on staring down at her.
‘Dark hair, she’s wearing a red duffel coat.’ A warm colour but the coat wasn’t—it was thin and not waterproof. She caught her wobbling lower lip between her teeth and said with determined optimism, ‘Which will be useful—we’ll be able to spot her miles away.’
Her tone invited him to come back with something appropriately upbeat, but when all he did was carry on staring at her with the same unnerving intensity, Neve gave him a gentle nudge.
‘I mean, red stands out for miles, ask any ginger person.’ She tried, but Neve couldn’t force the laugh past her tight, aching throat muscles. ‘We will find her, won’t we?’
‘Find who?’ His narrowed eyes scanned her face. The freckles across her nose stood out in the ghostly pallor that was alleviated by the patches of colour where the driving snow had chafed the soft skin of her cheeks to a painful pink. More worrying was the bluish tinge of her lips, a warning sign he might have noticed a precious minute earlier if he had not been transfixed by the brilliance of electric-blue eyes. In his defence they were extraordinary.
‘Who?’ Had he been listening to a word she’d said? ‘Hannah, of course.’
He unzipped his jacket and draped it around her narrow shoulder. ‘She’s a redhead too?’
‘No, red coat.’ The heat embedded in the padded fabric was tempting, but as much as she appreciated the gesture she couldn’t let him. ‘That’s really kind of you, but I can’t allow you—’
‘Allow implies I asked permission.’
The irritation in his deep voice was echoed in the dark eyes that meshed briefly with her own.
‘I didn’t.’
‘But you’ll get cold…’
Ignoring her protest, he took her right wrist.
She was too surprised to resist as he threaded it into the sleeve as if she were a child and then took her left hand and did the same.
‘But—Ooh!’ He drew the two sides of the jacket together so forcibly he almost jerked her off her feet. Teeth chattering violently, she looked up at him. His dark eyes glittered back at her through the slits in the mask, projecting a level of anger that was bewildering.
‘I really don’t need your—’
Severo swore and grabbed her by the shoulders. This was no time for tact and diplomacy. He studied her upturned features with a baffled expression. She couldn’t take his jacket, but this was the same woman who had taken his car without a second thought?
What she needed, in his opinion, was therapy, and so did he for being out here.
He pulled the zip all the way up until just her small tip-tilted nose peeped out over the top.
‘I’d love to chat with you, but we have no time for a debate. Also, for the record, I am not being chivalrous, this is purely practical. I’m wearing layers.’ And even through them the bite of the cold went bone deep.
The chill went deeper still when he thought of what sort of condition she would have been in if he had not found her when he had. How long would she have lasted—another hour…less?
He felt his anger surge. She seemed utterly oblivious to the danger she was in.
‘You are dressed for a stroll along a beach.’ The harsh condemnation in his voice made Neve take an involuntary step backwards. ‘It is people like you,’ he continued, warming to the theme, ‘people who have no respect for nature and the elements, who wander into the mountains ill equipped and expect other people to risk their lives to save them for their foolishness.’ He shook his head and searched the pale face tilted up to him; it felt like yelling at a kitten. ‘You’ve no idea what I’m talking about, have you?’
‘I’ve never tried to climb a mountain.’
He released a hissing sound of irritation and said, ‘The subject is closed. We are wasting time.’
‘You’re right.’ Neve was relieved he understood the urgency of the situation. ‘I was thinking if we found some high ground—’
What school of survival had she attended? ‘We need shelter, not high ground.’
‘No, that won’t work, we need to see—’
Sounding annoyed at the interruption, he cut across her. ‘See what exactly?’
‘Hannah,’ she said, finally placing the accent that had intrigued her since he began to speak: Italian.
There had been several Italian waiters in the restaurant they had stopped at for lunch. It would be a coincidence if he had been one of them. Though now that she thought about it, she did not remember any of them being this tall.
He shook his head. ‘Hannah?’
‘I was heading towards…’ she made a vague gesture behind her with her hand ‘…That way and she was just in front of me in a blue—’ Neve shook head crazily; she couldn’t recall the make of her own car ‘—car. Which way did you come? Did you see her?’ He shook his head and turned away, scanning the horizon, sizing up the most direct route back to the road.
Neve caught his sleeve and tugged hard. He turned his head, his glance drifting from the fingers curled into the fabric of his sweater to the tumble of wild copper-gold curls around the heart-shaped face turned up to his.
‘But you must have. Were you on the road?’
‘I saw no one.’ Severo struggled to contain his escalating impatience. ‘We are not equipped to undertake a rescue operation.’ Bit late in the day to realise this, and for all he knew this Hannah might be a figment of this woman’s imagination. If not he hoped she had already found safety, but the brutal truth was if she hadn’t adding to the casualty list with their own lives was not going to help. ‘This woman, if she exists, will have to take care of herself.’
‘She’s not a woman, she’s a child! What do you mean if? We have to—’
‘We?’
Neve grimaced as she realised she had been presuming he would be willing to help her. Clearly she had been wrong; she didn’t usually judge,