The Billionaire Bodyguard(3)

His  eyes flickered over her leather boots. They were good, soft,  waterproof  leather, but heels like that weren't made for walking. And  neither, by  the look of it, was she. He raised his eyebrows. 'Not  exactly dressed  for it, are you?'

'Well, I wasn't expecting to have to go for a hike!'

His eyes narrowed. 'Ever skied?'

Keri laughed. 'With my job? You're kidding-skiing is classified as a dangerous sport and therefore frowned on.'

Pretty restrictive job, he thought. 'Well, you're sure you're up to it?'

'I can manage,' she said stubbornly.

He  supposed that there was no choice but to let her try. 'You'll have   to-because there's no way I'm carrying you.' His eyes mocked her again   as he saw her lips part, and he realised that he was lying. Of course he   would carry her, just the way he had been conditioned to do. Men would   walk miles across any terrain for a woman who looked like that.  'Button  up your coat,' he said roughly. 'And put your gloves back on.'


She  opened her mouth to ask him to please stop addressing her as he  would  an idiot, but something about the set of his mouth told her that  the  dynamics had subtly changed and he was no longer just the driver.  It was  indefinable but unmistakable from his body language that  suddenly he  was in charge. And she wasn't used to that either.

'Hat?' he drawled.

She shook her head and he reached in the glove compartment for a beanie and handed it to her.

'Put your hair up,' he instructed. 'And then put this on.'

'Won't you need it yourself?'

'You need it more,' he stated. 'You're a woman.'                       
       
           



       

She  thought about making some clever remark about equality, but  something  cool and implacable in his eyes told her not to bother, as if  he didn't  really care what she thought. For a woman used to men  hanging on her  every word, it was certainly a change.

He got out and came round and opened the door for her, pulling it back with difficulty, for snow was piled up against it.

'Be  careful,' he warned. 'It's cold and it's deep. Just follow me,  okay?  Close as you can and quickly as you can. And do exactly as I tell  you.'

It was most definitely an order.

He  seemed to know exactly where he was going, even though Keri could   barely make out what was lane or field or sky or hedge. She panted   slightly as she stumbled into the blinding whiteness. It was an effort   to keep up with him and he kept having to stop, turning to look at her,   the slanting eyes narrowing.

'You okay?'

She nodded. 'I'm being slow, aren't I?'

You're a woman, and you aren't trained up for this kind of stuff. 'Don't worry about it. Fingers not freezing too badly?'

'Wh-what fingers are they?' She shivered.

He  laughed then, an unexpected and oddly musical sound, and his breath   made frozen clouds in the air. 'Not long now,' he promised softly.

As  she teetered behind him she wondered how he could be so sure.  Swirling  flakes of snow flew against her face, shooting into her eyes  and melting  on her lips. The boots she had thought comfortable were  only so in the  context of a short stroll down a London street. Her feet  felt as if they  had been jammed into sardine cans and her toes were  beginning to ache  and to burn. And her fingers were freezing-so cold  that she couldn't  feel them any more.

She had never been so aware of her body in  such an aching and  uncomfortable way, and with the unfamiliar feelings  of physical  discomfort came an equally unfamiliar fear. What if they  couldn't find  the place he had claimed he had seen? Hadn't she read  newspaper reports  of people freezing to death, or getting lost in  conditions not unlike  this?

A shiver quite unconnected to the  cold ran through her. Why hadn't they  just waited in the car and sat it  out until morning? At least they  would have been easily found there. She  bit her lip hard, but scarcely  felt it, then he stopped suddenly.

'Here!' he said, and a note of satisfaction deepened his voice into a throaty growl. 'I knew it!'

Keri peered ahead, her breath a painful, icy gasp which shot from her lungs. 'What is it?' she questioned weakly.

'Shelter!'

As  she came alongside it, it loomed up before her like a spectre. It   didn't look either warm or welcoming. It was a very tall building-almost   like a small church-and the path leading up to it was banked high with   snow. There was no light whatsoever, and the high windows were   uncurtained, but at least it was shelter.

And Keri did what any woman would do under the circumstances.

She burst into tears.





CHAPTER TWO




JAY  narrowed his eyes and gave her a quick, assessing look. How like a   woman! The Canadians had at least five different descriptions for snow;   the Icelanders countless more-and so it was with women and their  tears.  They cried at the drop of a hat, for all kind of reasons, and it  rarely  meant anything serious. And these, he surmised, were simply  tears of  relief.

He ignored them.

'There's nobody home,' he said, half to himself. If indeed it was somebody's home.

The  tears had taken her off guard. She couldn't remember the last time  she  had cried, for that was one thing her job had given her, in  spades-the  ability to hide her feelings behind a bright, professional  smile. She  supposed she should be grateful that he hadn't drawn  attention to them,  yet perversely she felt short-changed because he  hadn't attempted to  comfort her-even in a small way-and she scrubbed at  the corners of her  eyes rather defensively, with a frozen fist. 'How  can you tell?' she  sniffed.

Explaining would take longer than going through the  motions, and so he  began to pound at the door with a loud fist. He  waited, but, as he had  known, the place was empty.

'Stand back,' he said tersely.

'Why?'

'Because I'm going to have to get us inside.'

Keri  eyed the door, which was made of strong, heavy oak. 'You're  planning to  kick the door in, are you?' she asked disbelievingly.

He shook his head, half tempted to give a macho display of strength just to show her. 'No, I'll jimmy the lock instead.'

'J-jimmy  the lock?' It wasn't an expression she was familiar with, but  she could  work out what he meant. Alarmed, Keri took a step back and  very nearly  lost her balance, but he didn't appear to have noticed that  either. 'You  can't do that! That's called breaking and entering!'                       
       
           



       

He shot her  one impatient glance. 'And what do you suggest?' he  questioned coolly.  'That we stand here all night and freeze to death  just to have our good  citizen medals awarded to us?

'No, of course I-'

'Then just shut up for a minute and let me concentrate, will you?'

This  was an order verging on the simply rude, but Keri didn't have time  to  be indignant, because, to her astonishment, he produced what looked  like  a screwdriver from the pocket of his flying jacket, leaving her   wondering slightly hysterically if it was a necessary job requirement   for all drivers to have house-breaking skills. She dug her gloved hands   deep into the pockets of her coat, and with chattering teeth prepared   for a long wait.

But with astonishing speed he was soon opening  the front door, a small  smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he  saw her look of horror.

'You look surprised,' he commented.

'Surprise  isn't quite the right word-how the hell did you manage to do  it so  quickly?' she demanded as she stepped inside and he shut the door  firmly  behind her.

'You don't want to know,' he drawled. 'Just put it down as one of many skills I have.'

Oh, great! What kind of a maniac had she found herself marooned with? A thief? Or worse?

She  eyed him with apprehension, but he was looking around him, his face   raised slightly, almost like an animal which had found itself in a new   and potentially hostile terrain, his hard body tensed and watchful.

Jay  was enjoying himself, he realised. He had forgotten what it was  like to  live on his wits, to cope with the unexpected, to use his  instincts and  his strength again. It had been a long time. Too long.  'Nobody lives  here,' he said softly. 'At least, not all the time.'

'How can you tell?'

'Because  it's cold-really cold. And there's no smell-when a place is  inhabited  people always leave a scent around.' He stared down at the  floor, where  the shadowed outline of untouched post lay. 'But it's more  than  that-it's a feeling. A place that isn't lived in feels lonely.'

Lonely … yes-quite  apart from its geographical isolation, the house had a  lonely feel. And  Keri knew exactly what that meant-you could have the  busiest life in  the world, but inside you could sometimes feel achingly  lonely.