heart missed a beat then thundered heavily on. He turned to her with warning reluctance, and for the first time he allowed himself to scan the face that had so relentlessly haunted his dreams over the past year. The lovely lines were taut with strain, the perfect skin white and transparent, terror lurking deep in those spellbinding eyes.
And for the first time very real misgivings flooded icily through him as he met his own fallibility. Sheâd been telling the truthâas she saw it. She wouldnât involve the police, set an area search in motion simply to save her pride. And if she had a mobile she wouldnât be asking him to do the phoning.
âTell them Iâll be here. Iâll wait.â Her voice was ragged.
âOK,â he said roughly. He turned, then looked back at her. âIâll contact them. And Iâll be back.â
He saw her sag with relief, tears starting in her eyes, and resisted the violent urge to take her in his arms, hold her for a moment and comfort her. He walked quickly into the darkness, his throat tight, dragging his mind away from her.
Thank God it had at least stopped snowing. Even so, there was a good inch of the treacherous stuff underfoot. Swinging into the Range Rover, he reached for the key heâd left in the ignition then put both hands on the wheel, thinking hard.
The events of the last few minutes told him that Bella was desperately worried over her sisterâs non-appearance, that her story was true. She really believed that something dreadful must have happened. The shock of discovering that had driven Kittyâs involvement out of his head, while anxiety over Evieâs fate had never allowed it to enter Bellaâs.
In all probability they were both the innocent victims of a cruel conspiracy. Heâd get to the nearest phone and contact Kitty before he involved the police. If his gut feeling was right, there would be no need.
There was a torch on the passenger seat and he used it to have a look at the time. A few minutes after six. Too early for Kitty and Harry to have gone out for the evening. Too late for her to be shopping. He should catch her at home.
He turned the key in the ignition and nothing happened.
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Bella knew she had to pull herself together. Somehow. She moved briskly round the lamplit room, tweaking curtains, plumping up cushions that didnât need the attention, hoping the futile activities would settle her mind. A mind that was seething with all that was going on.
The shock of seeing Jake, here of all places. His cynical accusations. His cold admission that her absence from his life was a relief. Add Evieâs disappearance to that little lot and you got a brain that was on the brink of blowing.
Sucking in her breath, she flew to the dying fire and carefully placed a few small logs on the embers. If Evie came back the poor love would be coldâShe caught the thought, altered it savagely. Not ifâwhen.
The police would soon be out looking for her, and that was an enormous consolation. She was scatty enough to have run out of petrol. Nothing more disastrous than that. And Jake had promised to come back and report, to wait with her.
The thought was deeply comforting. Yet she didnât want it to be! She wanted him out of her mind. It was the only way.
She turned from the replenished fire, satisfied that the fresh logs were beginning to flame, and Jake walked back in, his face black with temper.
As before, they faced each other wordlessly, until Bella found her voice and whispered, âDid you find a phone?â
He couldnât have had time, surely? Heâd only walked out a matter of minutes ago. She put a hand to her heart as if to still the suddenly violent pounding. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
He looked as if he wanted to shake her to within an inch of her life. His black eyes were ferocious, his jaw clenched, dark with the perpetual five oâclock shadow she had sometimes