Not Even for Love(50)

Reeves stopped and surveyed the sight with a wry grin on his face. “You can tell by the thoroughness of the operation that Helmut’s in charge.”

Jordan didn’t respond. Instead she shifted his camera case from one arm to the other and followed him as he started down again. What would she tell Helmut? Would he ask about last night? Would he know without asking? Surely if she and Reeves looked at each other the truth about their night together would reveal itself.

But the closer they came to the group of men looking for them, the tighter the lines around Reeves’s mouth became. His eyes weren’t shining with a glow of passion as they had done all night. Instead they seemed to reflect the icy patches of snow he skirted around on their careful descent. They were cold.

Anxiety seared her chest, and it was far more painful than her hard breathing. In some secret part of her heart she had hoped that they might reconcile their ambitions for the future, compromise on what they wanted out of life. The splendor of last night couldn’t be so easily dismissed, could it?

“They’ve seen us,” said Reeves, tersely breaking into her thoughts. He set down the heavy basket and waved both arms high over his head.

Jordan saw one of the men respond by enthusiastically waving back. He was wearing a bright red ski jacket and tight black pants tucked into cleated boots. He was unmistakably Helmut. She watched as he turned to excuse most of the men with him, correctly guessing that she and Reeves were safe if they were walking down. Ten or twelve of the men remained with him as he continued to climb.

“Let’s wait for them,” Reeves suggested, and gratefully set down his load. Jordan did likewise. She folded the blanket into a thick cushion, placed it on a wide, flat rock, and they sat down on it. By the time the snow soaked through it, Helmut would be there.

The silence that strained between them grew more tense with each moment. Finally Reeves stirred and let his eyes skim her face before flickering away.

“Jordan, about last night …” He sighed.

Here it comes, she thought. The gradual letdown. Don’t cause a scene. Be calm. Don’t weep or tear at your hair.

“I…I never planned for it to happen with us again. After that night of the storm, when I learned you were engaged, I swore I’d leave you alone. But then you said that you weren’t going to marry Helmut… that day on the mountain and then yesterday morning… being stranded and all—”

“Don’t talk about last night, Reeves. Please.” By an act of will, she prevented the tears that flooded her eyes from overflowing.

Almost on a whisper he asked, “Then you know how I feel about it?”

Yes, she knew. For her it had been a turning point in her life. Had she ever doubted that she was making the right decision not to marry Helmut, she saw clearly now that such a marriage would never come about. Foolish though it was to love a man who had no commitments beyond the next fast-breaking news story, she loved Reeves. Marriage to another man would be unthinkable.

For Reeves it had been an episode. She had been a brief but pleasant interlude in his life. He had found her to be genial, attractive, and—she swallowed—obliging. He had responded as any man would, given the same set of circumstances. Reading anything other than fierce passion into their lovemaking was childish and futile and wrong.

She gulped down a sob. “Yes, I know what it meant to you, Reeves,” she answered with far more serenity in her voice than she had a right to expect.

“Good,” he said with obvious relief.

They saw Helmut striding toward them now. The look on his face, even through his fatigue, was one of elation.

“Jordan, since you understand about last night, I want you to know I’m leaving immediately. I’m going to Paris tonight.”

The words pierced her as no others had. So soon! He was ridding himself of her quickly. The severance would be swift, clean, and irrevocable.

She didn’t look at him or respond. She wouldn’t let him see the tears. He’d never know the heartache she was suffering. The death her spirit was dying would be a private one, witnessed by no one. He must never know that she loved him.

Not hesitating until it was too late, she catapulted off their resting place and ran pell mell down the hill, scrambling over the slippery surface. “Helmut!” she shouted. Let Reeves think their time together had been only a casual dalliance for her, too. Let him think she was going back to her wealthy fiancé. Let him think the worst of Jordan Hadlock, but don’t let him see that she loved him.

Helmut was waiting for her with outstretched arms, and, when she threw herself into them, he thought the tears that bathed her face were tears of joy.