# Italian Tycoon, Secret Son

Lucy Gordon

Lost: one love. Found: one family!Stranded after an avalanche, Mandy Jenkins and Renzo Ruffini awaited rescue and found comfort in each other’s arms. A year on, Mandy still longs for the carefree Italian she fell in love with but believed was lost for ever – until now! Discovering that Renzo has survived, Mandy goes to him – for he has her heart and she has his son! But Renzo has lost his memory…How will he react when he finds out he is the father of Mandy’s baby – will he claim his English bride and his son?

‘There are some things a man must remember for himself, or they weren’t important,’ she teased.

‘And it was important, wasn’t it, Mandy?’ Renzo replied.

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Tell me.’

‘Be patient. It’ll come to you.’

‘And if it doesn’t?’

‘Then I’ll just have to go away.’

His arms tightened. ‘I won’t let you. I’ll keep you prisoner.’

‘You won’t find that easy. I’ll escape.’

He leaned down so that his mouth was close to hers. ‘Give me a clue.’

She lifted her head a little and laid her lips against his. ‘Remember,’ she whispered.

The next moment she’d slid free of him and glided away.

Lucy Gordon cut her writing teeth on magazine journalism, interviewing many of the world’s most interesting men, including Warren Beatty, Richard Chamberlain, Roger Moore, Sir Alec Guinness and Sir John Gielgud. She also camped out with lions in Africa, and had many other unusual experiences which have often provided the background for her books. She is married to a Venetian, whom she met while on holiday in Venice. They got engaged within two days. Two of her books have won the Romance Writers of America RITA® award.

You can visit her website at www.lucy-gordon.com


Dear Reader

What can destroy love? Time? Distance? Forgetfulness? Death? Those are questions that have always intrigued me.

I wrote ITALIAN TYCOON, SECRET SON as a journey of exploration, often not knowing where the next step would lead. At the start everything seemed as simple to me as it does to Mandy and Renzo, two bright, clever people who prided themselves on their no-nonsense approach to life, and never saw what was about to engulf them until the very last minute.

As I went on I found myself learning from these two, as if I’d only just met them. In my head I listened as they argued that it was too late for the love they had discovered in the face of death. Too much time had passed. They were no longer the same people who’d found and then lost each other. How, they demanded, could they ever retrace their steps so far back, and then start out again on a new road?

But I urged them not to give up, and in finding the way they also discovered the answer to the first question.

If the love is real nothing in the world can destroy it.

Warm wishes

Lucy Gordon

## ITALIAN TYCOON, SECRET SON

BY

LUCY GORDON


www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

ONE thing was clear from the start.

Mandy Jenkins and Renzo Ruffini were fated to be combatants: to tease, taunt and infuriate each other, to jeer and bang their heads against the wall in mutual exasperation. And then to laugh and forget everything. Until the next time.

The truth was there the night they met, if either of them had been able to see it: the instant attraction hiding behind antagonism, the meeting of minds that took them both by surprise.

The only thing missing was the tragedy. That came later.

It was an evening in late February when Mandy arrived in Chamonix, on the French-Italian border, and booked into one of the city’s best hotels. It was slightly more than she could afford, but she was about to spend the next week living tough in the mountains and she reckoned she was entitled to spoil herself.

Everything was perfect, starting with the view from her bedroom window, of the mountains rearing up, shimmering white in the darkness, right down to the delicate French cuisine in the restaurant.

She took her time over the meal, occasionally glancing around at the other diners. One couple in particular claimed her attention. The woman was roughly in her late thirties, done up to the nines, evidently with the intention of attracting a conquest.

Laying it all out, Mandy mused.

If so, the woman was successful. The man with her was entirely focused on her ripe beauty, holding her hand, fixing his eyes on her as though the rest of the world didn’t exist. He too seemed to be in his thirties, with a face that was attractive rather than handsome. But the attraction was intense. His features were lean and sharp, the eyes brilliant with intelligence and devilment.

He smiled, and it was beaming, dazzling, all enveloping.

Hmm! Mandy thought.

Many women would have been seduced by that smile, even at this distance. But not her. She’d seen something that didn’t ring true. Despite his fervour, the passionate intensity in his gaze, this man wasn’t in love. He was simply doing what was expected of him in the situation, heading down a well-worn road to a predetermined end. And there were no prizes for guessing what the end would be.

Her impression was confirmed a few minutes later when the couple rose and headed for the lift, his arm around her waist, her head on his shoulder, their gazes locked in mutual adoration.

After drinking her coffee, Mandy retired to her own room to prepare for the next day when she would join an expedition up the mountains, led by professional climber, Pierre Foule. She was looking forward to it, knowing herself to be physically well equipped with a strong, young body, slim and lithe. Her black hair was cut short in a neat crop.

Efficient, she thought. Just what’s needed.

What she didn’t take into account was her deep green eyes. To her they were just eyes, useful for their perfect vision, but not special, so she entirely missed their beauty and the effect they could have on other people.

The shower felt unbelievably good, and when she’d finished and put on a towel robe, she felt invigorated and ready for the climb she would start tomorrow.

The thought filled her with the desire for one last look at the mountains, and she slipped out onto the wrought iron balcony to stand enraptured. She was about to go back inside when a commotion reached her from two windows along. A man was cursing in French, a woman was screaming.

The window was at an angle and she had a clear view as the curtains parted and a man rushed out onto the balcony.

It somehow came as no surprise to discover that he was the same man she’d been studying downstairs. Before her startled gaze, he climbed onto the wrought iron railings, took a deep breath and launched himself towards the balcony of the next window, landing easily.

But there his luck ran out. There was only darkness inside and his tapping on the window produced no response. The noise from the place he’d just left was growing louder and Mandy saw him eye her own balcony with intent.

He was mad, she thought. The leap he’d just made was across a corner angle and relatively easy, if you were into that kind of thing. But the balcony where he stood now was straight across from hers, a good six-foot jump and a forty-foot drop if he missed it.

‘You’re out of your mind,’ she called.

‘Can we talk about that later?’

Aghast, she retreated into her room, just peering out far enough to see the moment when he launched himself into space, clearing the gap with ease and only just having to cling on to the railings as he landed, muttering, ‘Grazie dio!’ just loud enough for her to hear. Italian, then.

But she’d called to him in English and she had to admire the aplomb with which he switched back to her language.

‘Let’s go,’ he said hastily, hustling her inside and closing the window firmly.

‘What the—’

‘Hush,’he said urgently. ‘Don’t make a sound.’

‘Who are you giving orders to?’ she demanded, drawing the edges of her robe together. ‘Just who are you?’

‘A man who’s throwing himself on your mercy,’ he said quickly. ‘Don’t be alarmed; I’m not going to hurt you. I just need a place to hide until he gives up the hunt.’

‘He? Who’s he?’

‘The husband, of course,’ he said, in a tone that implied inevitable consequences. ‘I didn’t know there was one. She swore she was divorced, and how’s a man to know?’

‘She being the woman you had dinner with downstairs, I suppose?’

‘Oh, you saw her? Can you blame me for losing my head?’

‘You didn’t lose your head,’ she said, standing back and regarding him cynically. ‘You knew exactly what you were doing at every moment. All that passionate gazing—’ She made a gormless face to indicate what she was saying and he flinched.

‘That’s a wicked slander! I never look like that.’

‘Look? Present tense? Meaning not with her or any of the others?’

‘How do you know there are others?’

‘Guess! You looked like a lovesick duck!’

‘A duck? May you be forgiven!’

‘But there was nothing lovesick about you. You were in control all the time.’

‘It seems like it, doesn’t it? A man who was in control would hardly be on the run. She just made my head spin.’

‘And that’s your excuse for acting like the hero of a bad Hollywood movie? Who do you think you are? Douglas Fairbanks?’

‘Who?’

‘He was always doing that athletic stuff in his films and— Why am I telling you this? How dare you just barge in here like some second-rate Lothario?’

‘I thought I was Douglas Fairbanks,’ he said with an expression of innocence that didn’t fool her for a minute.

‘Get out! Get—’

The last word was silenced by his hand over her mouth.

‘Hush, for pity’s sake,’ he begged. ‘Ow!’

‘Now will you let go of me?’

‘You bit my hand.’

‘I’ll bite you somewhere a lot more painful if you don’t leave my room. Go back to your lady friend.’

‘I can’t, her husband will kill me.’

‘Good for him! I’ll help him dispose of the body.’

‘You’re not very kind,’ he protested plaintively.

She stared at him, bereft of speech long enough to hear a knock at her door.

‘Mademoiselle, I am police. Please to open at once. This is for your own protection.’

She darted to the door, but at first she didn’t open it. Afterwards she could never quite understand what had stopped her, but she merely called back, ‘What is the matter?’

‘A criminal, mademoiselle. He has been detected in a room along here but managed to escape. Please to open.’

‘Open it,’ her companion murmured in her ear.

‘What?’

‘If you don’t, they’ll just get more suspicious. Your best bet is an air of calm and lofty innocence.’

‘How dare you? I am innocent!’

‘Then you can open it.’

‘And let them see you, so that the husband can identify you?’

‘He can’t. He never saw me. I got away while he was still in the outer room.’

‘And how do I explain your presence?’

‘This is a liberated age. You’re entitled to have a man in your room.’

‘Are you daring to suggest that I pretend that you and I—’

‘Unless you can think of something more convincing. I suppose I could be trying to sell you insurance—’

‘Shut up!’

‘Whatever you say. I’m at your mercy.’

‘Mademoiselle!’That was the policeman again.

Then another man’s voice said, ‘He’s obviously in there. Beat the door down.’

There was a thump on the door. Furious with all of them, Mandy wrenched it open so fast that the attacker was caught in mid-blow, lunging forwards against her and landing hard enough to knock her back. Only the swift movement of her mysterious companion prevented her hitting the wall.

‘Murderer!’ he cried. ‘My darling, has he hurt you?’

‘I’m not sure,’ she said faintly. ‘Help me up.’

He did so, lifting her in his arms and carrying her towards the bed, laying her down, then sitting beside her, still holding her.

‘Get out, the pair of you,’ he said to the two other men who were just behind him. ‘Look what you’ve done.’

Through half closed eyes Mandy surveyed the two men, one of whom was in a police uniform. Madness seized her and she pointed to the other intruder, a squashy-looking individual with a mean face.

‘Why did he attack me?’ she asked in a quavering voice.

‘I didn’t, I didn’t,’ he squeaked. ‘I was seeking the man who was with my wife. I thought he was here—’

‘Ooh!’ she moaned, covering her face and turning so that the stranger’s arms enfolded her.

‘Get out before I have the law on you,’ he threatened.

The policeman began a stumbling apology but fell silent when he saw a look in the stranger’s eyes. A jerk of the head sent him retreating through the door, half dragging the outraged husband with him.

‘It’s all right, they’ve gone.’

Lifting her head, she saw him regarding her with a mischievous devil in his eyes. Then her appalled glance fell on herself, and the towel robe which had drifted open, revealing her nakedness. Sanity descended on her like a cold shower and she snatched the edges together.

‘Thank you for everything you did,’ he said in a placating voice. ‘You were wonderful.’

But he backed away as he spoke, reading murder in her eyes.

‘If,’ she said, breathing hard, ‘you don’t get out of this room this instant, I shall scream the place down, call back the policeman and tell everyone the truth about you.’

‘Not that,’ he begged. ‘Anything but the truth.’

‘Oh, but this truth is very interesting. You are an unspeakable scoundrel—’

‘No doubt about it.’

‘A crook—’

‘Guilty.’

‘A ham actor—’

‘That’s going too far.’

‘A fraud, a man without scruple—’

He’d reached the door now, opened it, paused in the gap.

‘I just want to say that you were brilliant,’ he said quickly.

‘Go!’

‘And thank you.’

‘If you don’t get out of here—’

He paused just long enough to blow her a kiss. Then he was gone.

Mandy stood, torn between exasperation and laughter. He was everything she’d called him and worse, but she felt mysteriously invigorated as never before in her life.

Swiftly she put out the lights, tossed aside the robe and jumped into bed, mulling him over.

Where did he come from? She’d heard him mutter to himself in Italian, and he spoke in a Continental accent.

What had possessed him to make those crazy jumps? Fear of an enraged husband? No way. He was a lithe and powerful athlete who could have handled any number of husbands. Yet he’d chosen to run for it, risking his life in the process.

A man without fear, then, but also a man with some very kooky values. The way he’d said, ‘She swore she was divorced, and how’s a man to know?’ implied many other similar incidents.

And it didn’t bother him. It was just how he lived, from one woman to the next. He loved, he escaped, he went on. And he laughed. He’d been laughing all the time she’d berated him, not outwardly but inside. It had been there in his whole attitude, but mostly in his gleaming eyes.

Curse him for seeing her robe fall open. Just let him dare get ideas about her. She didn’t have a husband, but she did have a very useful left hook.

The thought made her feel better, and she fell asleep.

Next morning Mandy set out to walk the short distance through the snow-lined streets of Chamonix that led to the office where she was to join the expedition. Up ahead loomed the dazzling white mountains, inviting her to forget everything earthbound.

As she reached the office of Pierre Foule, expedition organiser, she could see a group of young people outside, looking around and up, impatient for the pleasure to begin.

‘When I told them at work that I was going to be climbing the Alps,’ a man was saying, ‘they were really impressed. Especially the girls.’

‘And aren’t you just going to make the most of it when you get back!’ another man ribbed him.

From behind Mandy a young female voice joined in the banter. ‘You want to be careful. These days we climb them ourselves, and we get to the top before you.’

There was a good-natured laugh. Mandy turned to see a woman of about her own age, with a cheerful face and a robust appearance.

‘Hi, I’m Joan Hunter,’ she said. ‘I’m going on the Mont Blanc trip.’

‘Me too. I’m Mandy Jenkins.’

They looked each other over approvingly.

‘I’ve just been in there to register,’ Joan said. ‘But it’s a madhouse. Pierre Foule, who was supposed to be leading us, is off sick, so someone else is standing in, and the girls are crowding round him, sighing. Not that he’s fending them off.’

‘Oh, heavens!’ Mandy said cynically. ‘One of them.’

‘Them?’

‘All easy charm and full of himself.’

As soon as they went inside she saw what Joan had meant. A female crowd was converging around a man she couldn’t see clearly. Then he turned and her blood froze.

‘It can’t be,’ she whispered.

But there was no mistaking that smile, that air of being on top of life and ready for anything. She breathed hard.

‘Hello, everyone,’ he said. ‘I’m Renzo Ruffini. I’m taking charge of this trip, but I’m still missing someone.’ His voice faded as Mandy appeared before him.

She had the pleasure of seeing him disconcerted, which she guessed didn’t happen very often.

‘You,’ he whispered.

‘Yes, me. I’m glad you remember me among the crowd.’

‘But of course I do. You saved my life.’

‘I think the least said about that the better, don’t you?’

‘Definitely.’ He pulled himself together. ‘How do you come to be here?’

‘I’m Mandy Jenkins.’

‘You?’ he queried. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Well, I’ve been Mandy Jenkins for twenty-seven years. If there was a mistake, I’m sure I’d have noticed by now.’

‘I only meant—you’re not quite what I expected.’ He surveyed her five foot two inches. ‘It’s a very demanding climb. I wonder if you’re strong enough.’

‘I’ve filled in the forms, answered all the health questions. I meet your requirements, otherwise I wouldn’t have been accepted by Pierre Foule.’

‘That’s true, but if Pierre had realized you were quite so delicate—’

‘Oi!’ she said. ‘Delicate, my left foot! I’m as tough as old boots.’

To prove it, she adopted a boxing stance, which he immediately copied, declaring, ‘Put ’em up.’ Then he ruined the effect by asking, ‘That is what they say, isn’t it?’

‘That’s what they say when they’re going to thump someone. I’ll thump you.’

‘No, no, ti prego, ti prego,’ he said in a comically placating tone. ‘You may not be delicate but I am.’

‘Will you please stop your nonsense?’

‘Anything you say,’ he vowed, giving her a delightful smile.

It was so obvious that this came from the manual of ‘how to deal with awkward customers’ that she nearly did thump him.

‘Look,’ she said in a low voice, ‘I don’t like this any more than you do, but we’re stuck with each other. I joined to go up the Alps, and that’s what I’m going to do.’ She glowered in what she hoped was a threatening manner, not easy as he was ten inches taller. ‘Do you understand?’

‘Signorina,’ he said solemnly, ‘I vow to you that if I was an Alp I’d be shaking in my shoes.’

‘Perhaps you should be,’ she warned him.

Then he murmured something in Italian, clearly not expecting her to understand. But she did. He’d said, ‘Why does this kind of thing always happen to me?’

She answered him in Italian. ‘Some people act like a magnet for trouble.’

She had the reward of seeing him embarrassed.

‘I shall have to beware of you, shan’t I?’ he said wryly.

‘Definitely. You have been warned.’

‘If you’ll excuse me, I must speak to the others.’

Renzo moved away hastily.

‘Cheeky devil,’ she murmured. ‘So certain that he’s got everything sussed. And I bet they all fall for it. Well, not me.’

Mandy had to admit that the charge of ‘delicate’ had some truth. She was daintily built and graceful of movement, which fooled many people into thinking her fragile. They were wrong.

Joan returned to her side, saying, ‘They say he’s in great demand.’

‘Because of his mountaineering skills, you mean?’ Mandy asked ironically.

‘I think it has more to with the Wow! factor,’ Joan mused, studying Renzo’s tall, athletic figure.

‘I can’t say I noticed it.’

Joan chuckled. ‘You would have done if you weren’t miffed with him.’

Mandy laughed and conceded the point. While she might not have taken to Renzo, honesty forced her to admit that he had the Wow! factor in spades.

If asked to describe his attractions, she would have shrugged and said, Par for the course, which would have been true without doing him complete justice.

He looked like a vibrant, healthy animal who’d spent his life in the open. Without being muscle-bound, he was powerful enough for the demands he obviously made on his lithe body. Even his dark hair and eyes fitted her picture of the conventional Italian male.

‘A professional Lothario,’ she said cynically, remembering the night before.

‘So who’s complaining?’ Joan asked. ‘I’m not.’

‘He’s all yours.’

At last the formalities were finished and Renzo called for their attention so that he could outline the plan for the next few days.

‘We’ll spend the nights in the huts we’ll find up there,’ he said. ‘Some are like good hotels, some are more basic, but I take it you’re all ready to rough it.’

There was a murmur of agreement and Mandy couldn’t resist calling, ‘Even those of us who are delicate.’

Renzo grinned. ‘I guess I’m not going to be allowed to forget that. Right, let’s go.’

As the others made their way out of the door, he drew her aside, murmuring, ‘I really am grateful. You’re not mad at me, are you?’

‘I can’t think what you’re talking about. I remember nothing.’

‘You’re probably right. Let’s be off.’

The first day was relatively easy, moving slowly up the lower slopes, linked by ropes.

Mandy had done just enough climbing to be able to cope fairly easily. The hardest moment was when Joan, roped to her, missed her footing. Briefly Mandy found herself supporting the young woman’s weight, and hung on grimly, but Joan recovered quickly and the moment passed. Looking up, she found Renzo watching her and had the satisfaction of seeing him nod in a way that suggested she’d done well.

There was also the ironic pleasure of discovering that she was far from being the worst of the party of twelve. That honour was reserved for Henry, a hulking, loutish young man. Though superficially good-natured, he wanted to do everything his own way and didn’t take kindly to instructions. Several times Renzo had to be very firm with him, and Mandy had to admit that he managed it without trouble.

As the light faded they came to the hut where they would spend the first night. It was small and when they had all crowded in the place was bursting at the seams, but the food was filling, the beds narrow but adequate and there was an air of jollity that carried them through the evening.

It amused her to see that as soon as they arrived Renzo became the target of attention again. The women gazed at him with pleasure, the men with jealousy. He accepted it all as his due, and Mandy had to admit that he had plenty of what the Italians called bella figura. More than mere good looks, it implied confidence, style, charisma, panache.

He was never at a loss. When someone produced a battered guitar he led the singalong with all the aplomb of a natural showman.

Now and then Henry butted in, making a noise—as someone observed—like a terrified monkey. But he was shouted down and vanished, scowling. After that nobody thought of him until bed time, when the sound of a slap followed by a yell showed that he’d had no luck there, either.

The next day they climbed up nearly three thousand metres and ended in a larger hut, perched on the edge of a ridge, staring down into the valley where the lights of Chamonix were just visible, like winking signals from another planet.

Mandy slipped outside to catch the last of the light, which had an unearthly quality here, in the heart of the snowy peaks. In the distant sky she could see a blaze of glorious scarlet, such as she’d never expected in February, and held her breath, longing for it to last.

A door behind her opened and she glanced back to see Renzo emerge. To her relief, he didn’t speak but stood in silence while they both watched the blazing colour fade swiftly into darkness.

At last she heard him sigh.

‘It’s breathtaking, isn’t it? I always come out to watch.’

‘And yet you must have seen it so often,’ she ventured.

‘It doesn’t matter how often. It’s always like the first time.’ He looked at her wryly. ‘I guess that surprises you, seeing as you have me down as an unrelieved jerk, totally insensitive and incapable of appreciating a moment of beauty. Don’t deny that that’s your opinion of me.’

‘I wasn’t going to deny it—’ she chuckled ‘—why should I?’

He looked aggrieved. ‘It might have been polite.’

‘I don’t do polite.’

‘Very wise. You save a lot of time that way.’ He came and sat beside her. ‘Are you coping all right?’

‘I’m fine, thanks. I’m really pleased with myself for not collapsing when Joan lost her footing. I just supported her until she was ready, you have to admit that.’

‘True, but with me above, supporting the two of you. All right, all right, don’t eat me.’

From inside came a burst of laughter, making him wince.

‘Shouldn’t you be getting back to your guests?’ she asked.

‘They’re not my guests, they’re my responsibility, and sometimes it’s one I’d much rather do without. I swear, this is the last time I take over a party where I haven’t been able to vet everyone first. And no, I don’t mean you.’

‘I know,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Henry. Do you know which one of the girls slapped him last night?’

He grinned. ‘They’re lining up to lay claim. Poor Henry. I saw him trying to attach himself to you earlier today. Is he giving you trouble?’

She glared. ‘You’re not chivalrously offering to take care of him for me, I hope.’

‘No way,’ Renzo said hastily. ‘You deal with him any way you like, and er—’ he gave her a significant glance ‘—I’ll dispose of the body.’

‘All right,’ she said, laughing. ‘Enough said. Actually, Henry really wanted to have a moan about you.’

‘Because I had to keep him in line?’

‘I think it’s more that you’re everything he wants to be and never will. He reckons you don’t get your face slapped, and that makes him want to kill you.’

‘What does he think I’m up to? Those bunk beds are only about two feet wide.’

‘Well,’ Mandy mused, ‘I suppose two feet might just be enough if—’ She left the implication hanging.

‘You’re making me blush, do you know that?’

‘I should really like to know what could make you blush,’ she said ironically. ‘Nothing I could think of.’

It was too dark for her to see much of his face, but his eyes seemed to gleam at her with unholy glee.

‘How do you know if you don’t try?’ he teased.

‘Now, you stop that,’ she said, suddenly cross. ‘I know what you’re doing and it’s a waste of time.’

‘Sure about that?’

‘Quite sure. Who do you think you’re dealing with? One of those girls in there, ready to sigh every time you go past?’

‘I’ve never pictured you like that,’ he said truthfully.

‘You think I want you swinging from my balcony?’

‘No way. You’d push me off.’

‘How astute of you.’

‘Let’s drop this, since I’m getting the worst of it. I think I’ll get us something to drink so that we can fight in comfort.’

Renzo went inside and Mandy leaned back in her chair, feeling content. She had a feeling of being in control, and she suspected that not many women had ever felt that with this man. It was very enjoyable.

CHAPTER TWO

RENZO returned after a moment with a bottle of light wine and two glasses.

‘Just a little,’ he said. ‘We’ll need all our wits about us tomorrow.’

When he’d poured and handed her the glass he said, ‘So Henry behaved himself?’

‘Only at first,’ Mandy replied. ‘Then he tried it on, but I gave him my “drop dead” look. It worked a treat.’

‘He has all my sympathy. You’re probably a karate instructor in your spare time.’

‘No such luck. I do research.’

‘Research? You mean—brainy stuff?’ He sounded nervous.

‘Well, I do have a couple of degrees.’

‘A couple?’ He edged away, as though fearful that her degrees would jump out and attack him.

‘It helps. I hire myself out to people writing books. They need stuff on other countries, history, language, that sort of thing.’

‘Is that how you come to speak Italian?’

‘That’s right. I had to learn some for a man who was writing a novel about the Borgia family and all their evil doings, and I liked it so much I went on and learned the rest.’

‘And I’ll bet that’s not the only language you know,’ he said, sounding more cautious by the minute.

‘I did French and German at school. They’re often useful too.’

‘You really are an academic.’ He sounded aghast.

‘Sure I am. Why do you keep looking down at the drop?’

‘I was wondering which would be the best place to throw myself off,’ he said in a hollow voice.

‘Don’t be in such a rush. Wait until we’re all safe, and I’ll think of something.’

They grinned in perfect understanding, and he refilled her glass.

‘You’re probably winding me up,’ Mandy said, sipping appreciatively. ‘I expect you went to college too.’

‘For a couple of years, but I was there on an athletic scholarship. As long as I won things, my lack of brains didn’t matter too much.’

She didn’t believe a word of it.

‘Don’t you ever want to write books?’ he asked.

‘I’ve done a couple of travel books.’

‘Is that why you’ve got a notebook?’ he asked, observing something in her hand. ‘You’re actually working out here?’

‘Just making a few notes. I do it wherever I am.’

‘Don’t you ever stop and simply enjoy yourself?’

‘But I do enjoy myself when I’m jotting things down. Often I only know afterwards how I’m going to use them. They dance around in my head and take on a life of their own, and who knows what may come of it?’

‘Fantastic,’ he agreed at once. ‘Throw the dice in the air and watch to see what happens.’

‘I guess that’s how you live.’

‘I like to let life surprise me, just like you. We’re alike, plenty of freedom and no ties. That’s the way to be.’

‘How do you know I have no ties?’

He shrugged. ‘You’re either free or you have a partner who’s content to sit at home while you climb mountains.’

A little devil prompted her to say primly, ‘And why not? We each follow our own path out of mutual respect.’

Renzo’s face was a picture of comical disgust. ‘Dio mio! You ought to get rid of him fast. Hell would freeze over before I let my woman risk her neck without me there.’

‘Let? Let? What century are you living in?’

‘Any century rather than one where this can happen. But you’re fooling me, aren’t you? Don’t tell me this paragon of dreary virtue actually exists.’

‘No, he doesn’t.’ Mandy gave a melodramatic sigh. ‘I just dream of meeting him.’

‘Sure you do. And it would serve you right if he turned out to be just like you described.’

‘What about you? No ties and you mean to keep it that way?’

‘For a while at any rate. Ties are all right— one day.’

‘No, I think you’ll live and die a free man, because that’s what life means to you.’

He raised his glass in salute. ‘Very clever of you.’

She lifted hers in response. ‘So be careful what you say. I see everything. I’m a witch.’

He peered at her in the shadows.

‘No,’ Renzo said softly, ‘not a witch, a cat— a sleek, graceful, green-eyed cat.’

‘Then beware my claws,’ she said, suppressing the flare of pleasure that this gave her.

‘I’ll take my chances, because it’s so nice to talk to someone who understands freedom. But, at the risk of being bopped, I’d like to know why you’re alone. Have the men no eyes?’

‘Perhaps they don’t always like what they see,’ she mused. ‘He said he preferred a woman with “a bit of meat on her”.’

Renzo nodded, far too intelligent to ask who ‘he’ was.

‘He sounds like an Englishman,’ he observed. ‘That’s the charming way they talk. But you speak of him in the past.’

‘One day he just didn’t turn up for a date and I never heard from him again.’

‘You’re well rid, and it saves you the chore of dumping him.’

‘How do you know I would have dumped him?’

He made a face. ‘Because you have too much taste to tolerate for long a creature who has the soul of a pig. And, besides, you’ll never find your perfect man, because you’re not really seeking him.’

Mandy thought for a moment. Could that possibly be true? The man who’d almost broken her heart—but only almost—wasn’t she recovering remarkably fast?

She had a strange sensation that Renzo had looked directly into her and seen things that were hidden from herself.

‘That might be it,’ she conceded, nodding slowly.

‘What made you come up here? It’s more than seeking material for your notebooks.’

‘I needed the change. I like to get out in the open and do something adventurous. Slaving over a hot computer isn’t enough.’

‘I know. I spend too much time cooped up, as well.’

‘I thought you’d practically live in the mountains.’

‘I don’t do this for a living. I used to climb a lot but now I sell sports equipment. I learned to climb with Pierre, who owns this firm, and is the man you were expecting. We’ve stayed friends, and when he needs help he calls me. It gives me the chance to get back here.’

‘Away from noise and silly irritations,’ she murmured.

Renzo nodded. ‘The mountains may endanger you, but they’re never trivial.’

‘And even the danger—’ She stopped and drew in a breath of pure satisfaction.

‘You too? Yes, it’s true. There’s pleasure in going to the edge—perhaps closer than you should—’

‘The moment when you feel you might just have gone too far,’ she murmured, ‘but you get away with it.’

‘There’s nothing like it,’ he agreed appreciatively. ‘And then you’re a winner, ruler of the world. And next time—’

He stopped and their eyes met.

‘Should you be talking to me like this?’ she asked humorously. ‘You—teacher. Me—pupil. Surely you should be preaching safety, not leading me astray with the delights of danger?’

‘You’re already “astray” or you wouldn’t have known what I meant so quickly,’ he said. ‘But you’re right. I shouldn’t talk like that, and I wouldn’t to anyone else. I rely on you not to repeat it.’

‘I promise,’ she said and they chinked glasses.

‘Especially him!’ Renzo added as Henry’s bellow reached them from inside. It was clear that he was heading towards them.

‘Is that the time?’ Mandy asked hastily, rising. ‘I think I’ll get an early night.’

She was annoyed with Henry, who’d ruined a moment she was enjoying. The discovery that Renzo had hidden depths had opened a new path that might have been fun to explore. Best of all had been the understanding that had flashed between them. He was the last man with whom she would have expected this, which only made it more intriguing.

But she remembered that they would only be together for a few days. Then he would return to his country and she to hers, and that would be that.

Next day the weather was good and they travelled fast. With every step the air became clearer and brighter, and the peaks seemed tantalizingly closer.

‘It’s like we could get to the top today,’ Mandy breathed when they were halfway up.

‘That nearness is an illusion,’ Renzo said. ‘You’ve been in the mountains before, you should know all about the illusions.’

‘True,’ she said. ‘So many different ones—’

‘Yes, and after a while everything seems unreal—or maybe it’s real—but how can you know when your surroundings seem to come and go? Are they near or far? What will it be like finding out? Or will we ever be able to find out at all?’

‘Hey, you’re a poet,’ she said, grudgingly impressed.

‘Nonsense,’ he said hastily. ‘I’m a seriousminded man, who disapproves of levity. And stop looking at me like that, you little cat. Sometimes I have to be serious—’

‘Or pretend to be.’

‘Or pre— Will you shut up, please? Listen to what I say, and be careful about false impressions.’

‘But maybe not all the impressions are false.’

‘Most of them out here are. Don’t get sentimental, just concentrate.’

‘Yes, sir!’ Mandy gave an exaggerated salute.

‘Behave yourself!’

This time she didn’t answer in words, but her eyes said everything. He turned away quickly, yelling, ‘All right everyone, are we ready?’

Renzo went round the others, checking ropes, and Mandy gave a small, private smile. Without meaning to, she’d touched on a side of him that he preferred to keep private. Interesting. Very, very interesting.

They went further that day and finished up in a ‘hut’ that was an improvement on the last. Instead of dormitories with bunks, there were double rooms with comfortable beds. The food was excellent, and after a rewarding meal everyone gathered in the main room where a man was playing an accordion.

At first the dancing was boisterous, but after a while the tone softened and the crowd divided into couples. Joan, Mandy was amused to notice, had two suitors to chose from—three, if you included Henry, which nobody did.

Joan’s choice finally fell on a handsome young man called Peter. They circled the floor smoochily, then vanished together and weren’t seen again.

Renzo danced with every girl on his expedition, except Mandy, who was so occupied he couldn’t get near her.

What she hadn’t told Renzo the night before was that she’d once wanted to be a dancer and had taken lessons. She’d given it up when she’d realized she had only a modest talent, but she still loved to dance, and suddenly the legacy of her training had kicked in. She could manage the fastest speeds, the most intricate steps, and men were soon queuing up to partner her.

One, a Frenchman called Marcel, was her equal. Together they hurled themselves about the floor, twisting, writhing, together and apart, while the others stopped dancing to stand back and watch.

They were Spanish dancers, clicking imaginary castanets, gazing passionately into each other’s eyes. Then the rhythm changed, became rock ’n’ roll, and he began to fling her up and around his shoulders. When the music crashed to a finish, she was lying back in his arms in a theatrical simulation of abandon. The applause was loud.

Marcel gave her a neat bow and set about turning his advantage to gold with the ladies who were converging on him. Slightly breathless, she smiled at her next partner, approaching her with his hands outstretched. But he was eased determinedly out of the way by Renzo.

‘Boss’s privilege,’ he said. ‘Mandy, I can’t compete with your last partner, but I’ll do my best.’

‘Suppose I don’t want to dance with you?’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ he said with mock gravity. ‘I have to distribute my favours equally. You’re the only one left, and I can’t have you being a wallflower, can I?’

‘Wallflower? Me?’

But his eyes were gleaming with fun, and she thumped his shoulder lightly.

‘Cheeky so-and-so,’ she said. ‘I don’t know why anyone puts up with you.’

‘I’m irresistible, hadn’t you heard?’

‘No, and if I do hear, I’ll tell them different.’

‘That’s my girl.’

Renzo drew her close, sighing dramatically in a way that made her want to giggle. The music had become a waltz, and as he guided her smoochily around the floor she realized that she was being stared at again, this time with envy. ‘There’s no need to overdo it,’ she murmured.

‘You don’t understand. I’m expected to overdo it.’

‘Ah, yes, just doing your duty. Otherwise, of course, nothing would make you dance with me.’

‘I wouldn’t go quite that far. A very large sum of money might persuade me.’

‘I’ll kick your shins in a minute.’

He was an excellent dancer and she fell easily into step with him.

‘You’re not playing your part,’ he said after a while. ‘You should be gazing adoringly into my eyes.’

Glancing up, she found his face closer than she’d expected and drew a sudden sharp breath.

‘That’s better,’ he murmured.

‘Watch it,’ she murmured back. ‘I’m in a dangerous mood.’

‘Wonderful! A woman is never so interesting as when she’s dangerous.’

Mandy knew a brief flare of alarm. For a moment—just for the tiniest possible moment—she’d actually wanted him to find her interesting. Time to bring him down a peg.

‘That’s a very good line,’ she said admiringly. ‘You must be proud of it.’

‘One of my best,’ he assured her.

‘Of course you need to practise your delivery.’

‘I thought I delivered it just right,’ he said, hurt.

‘No, you should try it with a woman who isn’t standing back and judging the performance.’

‘You’re not standing back,’ he said, tightening his arm about her waist, so that she could feel his body more closely against hers.

‘Inside I’m standing back, having a good laugh at you, actually daring to think I’d give you an easy time.’

‘If there’s one thought that never crossed my mind it’s that you’d give me an easy time,’ he said fervently.

‘Well, you should be able to cope with that,’ she teased. ‘You’re Italian, after all. Think Casanova! Think Romeo!’

‘Think a sock on the jaw! Mio dio, where do you get these ideas from? If I labelled you cold and prissy because you’re English, you’d be annoyed.’

‘Not if it were true,’ she said. ‘Then I’d be flattered that you’d recognised my innate virtue.’

His alarmed expression was so comical that she burst out laughing.

‘I’d take a bet,’ Mandy said, ‘that every night at bedtime you say a prayer to be saved from women of virtue.’

Renzo gave her a considering look. ‘Well— maybe not all of them. How sad that the music is ending. We must continue this so interesting conversation another time.’

He gave her a little bow as they parted.

‘Thank you, kind lady,’ he said formally.

‘And you, sir. With your duty done, you can start enjoying yourself.’

His eyes flashed her a message, but so swiftly that she wasn’t sure she’d read it right. Perhaps it was safer that way.

Needing some fresh air, she fetched her jacket and slipped out into the snow. There was a full moon, bathing the mountains in dazzling silver light, and she walked down to the low wall that marked the boundary, where she could sit and ponder.

‘Ah, there you are,’ came a voice behind her.

She gave a silent groan. ‘Hello, Henry.’

‘I was watching you in there. You were fantastic.’

‘Thank you.’

Inwardly she was praying that he wouldn’t come and sit beside her. He did.

‘You’re such a super mover,’ he enthused, ‘slinky and sexy. It made me think all sorts of things about you and me. How about it, eh?’

‘No,’ she said firmly.

He made the mistake of lunging for her, which gave Mandy the chance to seize his hand in an iron grip.

‘Ow!’ he muttered.

‘Listen carefully, Henry,’ she said with a deadly smile. ‘If you don’t back off, I shall boil you in oil and decapitate you, not necessarily in that order. Now push off before I’m tempted.’

Even he got that message. He sloped off in the direction of the door, muttering just loud enough for her to pick up the word frigid. Furiously she picked up a handful of snow and hurled it after him.

‘Hey!’ protested a voice.

‘How long have you been there?’ she demanded indignantly.

‘Long enough to enjoy the sight of Henry being an idiot,’ Renzo said, coming forward, brushing snow off himself.

‘Shouldn’t you have rushed to my rescue? How about protecting a damsel in distress?’

‘I never saw a damsel less in need of help,’ Renzo said, sitting beside her. ‘It’s enough to make a man go very carefully.’

‘If it was in his nature to go carefully. Some men don’t have the common sense to be afraid.’

Renzo nodded. ‘Except when I’m climbing, I never had any common sense,’ he confirmed. ‘It’s led to me having my face slapped a few times, but it’s also given me some of the best moments of my life.’

She nodded. It was just as she’d supposed.

‘You were pretty gorgeous in that dance,’ he said at last. ‘Enough to make a man enjoy a few fantasies.’

‘Only a twerp like Henry,’ she said firmly.

But Renzo shook his head. ‘Any man,’ he said softly.

‘Is this you doing your duty again?’ she asked, regarding him cynically.

‘Let’s just say that if I wanted to approach you, I wouldn’t go about it like a bull at a gate.’

It was madness to say, ‘Just how would you go about it?’ but she found herself saying it anyway.

‘I’d be quiet for a moment while we both drank in the mountains. Then I’d point out how the moonlight makes them unearthly, so that we almost could be on another planet—just the two of us.’

‘And then you’d say that there was nobody you’d rather have with you than me?’ she conjectured.

‘I think I’d try something more subtle like— you’re so ethereal that you seem to embody the moon. No?’

He’d seen the scepticism in her face.

‘I might laugh at that one,’ she admitted.

‘Then how about something more down-to-earth like—watching you dance gave me thoughts I’m ashamed of. I couldn’t even tell you about them—unless you insisted.’

‘I don’t think I need to,’ she murmured.

‘Of course not. You had a dozen men at your feet, as you well knew.’

‘Did I?’ she mused. ‘Well, perhaps.’

‘Little cat,’ he whispered. ‘You knew exactly what you were doing.’

Renzo was right. There had been pleasure in knowing that every man’s eyes were upon her, but the only ones she’d cared about were his.

But hell would freeze over before she gave him an easy victory.

‘One must pass the time somehow,’ Mandy said languidly.

‘Very good,’ he said. ‘Play the indifferent card. Make him suffer, but beware of teasing him too much, lest things get out of your control.’

‘Nothing ever gets out of my control,’ she mused softly. ‘I don’t allow it to happen.’

‘Now that is sheer provocation.’

Somehow he’d taken possession of her hand and was holding it gently between his.

‘Of course,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘this might be the moment when you threaten to pour boiling oil over me.’

‘No, I think I’ll save that until later.’

Without speaking, he laid his cheek against her palm. It was a pleasant sensation, and not alarming, until he turned his head so that she felt his lips. She controlled her tremor, determined not to let him feel it, but she couldn’t hide it from herself. This was only meant to be a joke, but what had she wandered into?

‘On the other hand,’ she said softly, ‘I know just the oil to use.’

‘You think I’d be foolish to try my luck any further?’

‘Very foolish.’

Renzo leaned forwards so that his mouth was close to hers. ‘A brave man would put that to the test.’

‘How brave are you?’

‘Shaking in my shoes.’

The next step was so easy. She had only to say the word and she would be in his arms, his mouth on hers, relishing the kiss for which he’d been cleverly preparing her.

Preparing her!

Mandy froze as knowledge hit her like lightning.

It was a game, a trick, and she’d walked into it with her eyes open. He’d probably taken a bet with himself that he could lure her into dropping her defences. And she’d fallen for it. Nearly.

‘Shaking in your shoes, hmm?’ she mused. ‘Well, I think that’s a very good idea. If you knew what I was thinking right now, you’d really shiver.’

‘Mandy—’

‘Don’t treat me like a fool, Renzo. I know what you’re up to, and I’m ahead of you. You did it well, I admit, but not quite well enough.’

‘You think I’m—’

‘Just fooling. Admit it.’

‘Well—’he seemed to consider ‘—since you saw through me so easily, I guess that’s it. I might as well give up.’

‘You and Henry both,’ she said firmly.

After that there was nothing to do but walk casually back indoors, bid a cheerful goodnight to everyone, go to bed, and lie staring into the darkness wondering if she was going mad.

* * *

The sun rose on another bright day and, to Mandy’s relief, the ghosts of the night before were dispelled. He’d laid a trap, she’d weakened but seen the danger in time. The world was good again.

Renzo seemed to have forgotten about the night before. He had some words of advice for each of them.

To Mandy he said, ‘Don’t rush it. You climb as if you’re always trying to prove something. Just take it easy.’

They all set out cheerfully, taking deep breaths of the clear air, relishing the day to come.

As they trod carefully along a narrow ridge, Mandy began to fantasise about reaching the top. How incredibly blue the sky was, how wonderful it would feel to be there! Entranced, she let her thoughts drift.

Suddenly the ground, so firm beneath her a moment ago, simply ceased to exist. For a blinding moment the steep slope stretched away, yawning into the depths of infinity. Snow and sky became one, swirling sickeningly back and forth. Then the world steadied again. She was being drawn upwards, supported around her waist by an arm that seemed to be made of steel.

‘All right?’ said Renzo’s voice.

She lay on her back, looking up into the heavens, her heart thundering, while the universe fell into its right place again.

‘What happened?’ she gasped.

‘You slithered, but it’s all right now,’ he said in a reassuring voice. ‘Take a few deep breaths. No rush.’

‘I’m fine,’ she said, sitting up.

She began to get determinedly to her feet, accepting his support for a few moments. As they went on she put a brave face on it, but she felt shaken and it was a relief when Renzo said, ‘We’re not going so far today. There’s another hut soon up ahead. It’s not as grand as the one I was aiming for, but it’ll give us a much-needed rest.’

Mandy was desperately glad. Weariness had caught up with her and there was a pain in her leg where she’d scraped it as she’d fallen. At last the hut came into view. As Renzo said, it was basic, but comfortable.

In the bedroom, shared by four girls, Joan took charge of Mandy, helping her to undress and getting out her nightwear, a pair of pyjamas, consisting of a jacket and shorts, which revealed a long red mark down her calf.

‘Wow!’ Joan exclaimed.

‘It’s impressive, isn’t it?’ Mandy said, touching it gently. ‘It’s also sore.’

There was a knock at the door and Renzo’s voice said, ‘Can I come in?’

‘Yes, fine,’ Joan called.

‘Joan, Peter’s looking for you,’ he said, entering. ‘I think he’s planning a romantic tryst in the moonlight. Shall I tell him you’re not interested?’

‘Don’t you dare,’ Joan said eagerly and slipped away.

‘Let me have a look at that leg,’ Renzo said.

Mandy sat on the bed, swinging her legs up so that he could see the mark, and he seated himself, inspecting it critically and laying his hand over it.

‘It’ll be better when I’ve rubbed some of this in,’ he said, holding up a bottle.

‘What is it?’

‘Dr Renzo’s All Purpose Linctus is what you need. Stretch out.’

His manner was so impersonal that it was easy to lean back, close her eyes and succumb to the soothing effect of his hands rubbing her leg rhythmically. It was wonderfully relaxing, and she soon felt warmth flowing through her.

‘Mmm!’ she said softly.

‘Good?’

‘Mmm!’

‘Got any more aches and pains?’

‘Everywhere,’ she murmured. ‘Neck, shoulders, arms, back—’

‘Turn over.’

She did so and he continued massaging her back, sliding his hands under the cotton jacket until, almost without realizing what she was doing, she opened the buttons at the front and he pulled it off.

How good it felt to have him massaging her spine, her shoulders, her neck, driving the strain away until she was floating in a cocoon of comfort. She was vaguely aware that she was being foolish, lying here, half naked, alone with a man who charmed his way through life. When he’d finished easing her ailments he would try once more to bring her under his spell, perhaps to avenge his defeat the night before.

He’d do it by letting his hands wander just a little too far, drifting forwards to caress her breasts, pausing to see if she objected, but not really expecting it. Then she would have to be firm with him, which would be hard because she felt too contented to be firm about anything.

‘Right, that should do it,’ Renzo said, standing up. ‘I’ll send some food in, and then a good night’s sleep should make you feel better. Goodnight.’

And he was gone.

Mandy lay there, thoughtful, unsure whether to credit him with being a gentleman or blame him for the implied slight. While she was trying to decide, she fell asleep.

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN she awoke, Joan was there.

‘Renzo sent me in with food an hour ago, but you were dead to the world,’ she said. ‘Now, I’m under strict orders to keep an eye on you and make sure you eat as soon as you awake.’

Mandy sat up, rubbing her eyes. ‘Where does he get off giving people orders?’

‘He doesn’t, really. He just gets his own way with that smile. It’s far more effective than anything else, sort of wicked and gorgeous. It invites you into a conspiracy with him, and you know that it would be the most delightful conspiracy in the world.’

Now Mandy knew what she had against him.

‘Does Peter know you feel like that about our great and glorious leader?’ she asked tartly.

‘Every girl on this trip feels like that about him. Except you, but then you’re just “ornery”. I can’t think why, especially when he’s been so nice to you today. Oh, yes—I see. I should have thought of that.’

‘Thought of what?’

‘When he was giving you that massage—I should have stayed here, shouldn’t I? I thought he was the perfect gentleman, but I ought to have known better.’

‘What are you saying?’ Mandy demanded.

‘Well—you know—he probably let his hands wander too far. That’s it, isn’t it? He “took advantage of you”.’

‘No, he didn’t,’ Mandy said, exasperated beyond endurance. ‘He was totally professional and his hands didn’t wander one inch from where they should be.’

‘What, not even the tiniest—’

‘No!’

‘Ah,’ said Joan wisely. ‘Now I see.’

‘There’s nothing to see. It’s time I got up,’ Mandy said firmly. ‘I’ll eat out there. Shall we go?’

Joan’s knowing eyes saw too much.

Mandy edged tentatively off the bed, fearing the worst, but she felt good. Dr Renzo had been very effective, she thought, pulling on some clothes, pleased to find that it was easy.

The others raised a cheer as she appeared and asked kindly how she was. Renzo didn’t speak, but he observed her carefully and served her food with his own hands.

‘Eat it all,’ he said. ‘You’ve got to keep your strength up.’

While she ate he watched over her like a guard dog, or a nanny. Suddenly her thoughts about his amorous intentions seemed ridiculous, and she began to chuckle.

‘Careful,’ he said gently. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘Nothing—nothing—’ she gasped.

‘Well, don’t choke yourself for nothing. Steady.’ He was patting her on the back. ‘That’s better. Now can you share the joke?’

‘No way,’ she said. ‘Some jokes just can’t be shared.’

‘They can be the best,’ he suggested.

‘That’s true, and this one—Oh, don’t get me started again.’

He looked at her curiously, and seemed about to say something, when a shout of, ‘Hey!’made everyone look up.

It was Henry, standing at the window.

‘It’s snowing,’ he bawled.

At once they crowded to the window to see the soft flakes drifting down. Renzo slipped outside and Mandy joined him.

‘I don’t like this,’ he said, staring intently.

‘It’s not very bad, is it?’ she asked. ‘It’s only a light fall.’

‘Yes, but if it keeps on for long it can have a destabilising effect. You get too much light, powdery snow that hasn’t had a chance to firm up and compact with the rest.’

‘You mean, we couldn’t go on?’

‘It might be a good idea to turn back.’

‘I hope we don’t have to,’ she said with a little sigh. ‘It’s so lovely up here—and just a little bit of snow—’

‘The trouble with you English is that you live in a moderate climate,’ he chided her. ‘You don’t really understand that snow can be dangerous. But look high up.’ Renzo indicated the flakes and, beyond them, the white peaks rearing up in the darkness. ‘Snow like that isn’t just affecting life. It is life. At the best it’s a challenge, at the worst it’s an enemy.’

‘Hey ho! That’s that then.’

‘No, it’s too soon to know how bad it’ll be. Don’t despair yet.’

‘Me, I never despair,’ said a voice behind them, and they both groaned at the arrival of Henry. ‘Come on,’ he rallied them. ‘Where’s your sense of adventure?’

‘I put it to rest on the day I accepted responsibility for bringing people up here,’ Renzo said through gritted teeth.

Now he was a guard dog again, shepherding them both back inside, commanding everyone to bed, chivvying them until they obeyed.

‘How’s the leg?’ he asked Mandy.

‘Fine. Everything’s fine. Dr Renzo’s Linctus is great. You should patent it.’

‘No, I keep it for special occasions. Sleep well.’

To everyone’s relief, the snow stopped during the night, but the day was overcast, making Renzo frown. As breakfast finished they were startled by the sight of a group coming out of the clouds on skis, heading towards them. When they arrived, it soon appeared that they had turned back.

‘It’s getting bad up ahead,’ said the leader, a bearded young man called Toby. ‘We’re going down before it gets worse.’

‘Right, then so will we,’ Renzo declared. ‘Sorry, folks, but safety first.

‘Everyone get packed up and ready to go. And that includes you, Henry. Henry? Where is he?’

‘I haven’t seen him this morning,’ one of the men said.

Even then nobody guessed the truth. Renzo simply shrugged and said, ‘Tell him to get packed up, and then hurry.’

It was another five minutes before one of the young men approached him and said worriedly, ‘Henry’s vanished. We found this.’

It was a note in Henry’s schoolboy handwriting:

Some of us aren’t afraid to go on. See you up there, losers!

‘He’s gone ahead on his own!’ Mandy breathed. ‘How can he be such an idiot?’

‘Because he is an idiot,’ Renzo said savagely.

The look on his face made his audience recoil. They were used to seeing Renzo friendly, amusing and firm, but nothing had prepared them for the bleak fury that confronted them now.

‘Scary,’ somebody muttered.

Mandy agreed. Suddenly he become a new man, one capable of terrible deeds. She wondered how she could ever have thought him lightweight.

He began to curse in Italian, speaking softly but in a way that made the underlying violence more alarming. At last he controlled himself and said, ‘I have to go after him. The rest of you are going down with the party that’s just arrived. Get moving.’

Nobody felt inclined to argue with him in this mood. Mandy slipped into the bedroom and packed up her things ready for departure. A resolution was growing in her. She couldn’t tell from whence it came, but instinctively she knew that she must not let Renzo go after Henry alone.

‘Are you ready?’ Renzo asked when she appeared.

‘Yes, but I’m not going down. I’m coming up with you.’

‘No way. That fool could do anything.’

‘Then you might be glad of backup,’ she said defiantly.

‘Look, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but he’s capable of landing us all at the bottom of a ravine.’

‘Fine, I’ll let you tackle him, and if he takes you down with him, I’ll still be alive to tell the world what happened to you.’

He stared at her, speechless.

‘Look,’ she persisted, ‘I’m coming whether you like it or not. I can either go with you in relative safety, or I can go on my own and take my chances.’

‘Is there any use saying no to you?’ he snapped.

‘None at all, so why are we wasting time?’

Joan and Peter emerged at that moment and Renzo appealed to them. ‘Can you talk some sense into her? She thinks she’s coming with me.’

‘Great idea,’ Joan said. ‘I’ll come too to keep an eye on her.’

‘Me too,’ Peter said.

Renzo tore his hair. ‘When we get out there, you do as I tell you, and if we see Henry, you stay clear.’

Toby was gathering his party ready for departure, asking if anyone was joining them. Mandy, Joan and Peter folded their arms stubbornly, but the rest trooped out, ready to descend the mountain. There were goodbyes all round, and then Renzo was left alone with the other three.

‘You’re mad, all of you,’ he growled.

‘Yup, you’re stuck with us,’ Mandy affirmed. ‘Some people would call it loyalty.’

‘Most people would call it stupidity.’ But his face softened as he said, ‘Thank you.’

As the others busied themselves with final preparations, Renzo moved closer to Mandy, murmuring, ‘You haven’t got the infernal nerve to try and protect me, have you?’

‘What, delicate little me?’ she teased. ‘No, the one I’m trying to protect is Henry—from you.’

‘You might have a point there.’

They fitted on their skis, Renzo checked the ropes that connected them, and they set out, climbing slowly and carefully, their eyes skinned for any sign of Henry.

‘It’s a pity we can’t shout,’ Joan observed. ‘I’ve got plenty of names I’d like to call him.’

‘Don’t,’ Renzo said firmly. ‘If there’s any name-calling to be done I’ll do it, at close quarters.’

But the day moved on without any sight of their quarry. Mandy hoped fervently that he was safe, but only for Renzo’s sake. If one of his party came to harm he would get the blame, however wrongly. She felt a powerful surge of anger towards Henry.

It grew colder and bleaker as they climbed. Now there was no sun and the world was grey. Peter, whose courage was fast deserting him, was the first to express doubts.

‘I wouldn’t mind finding a hut right now.’

‘What about that one over there?’ Joan said, pointing in the distance.

‘It’s deserted,’ Renzo said. ‘Can you see that it’s on the edge of a precipice? It wasn’t on the edge when it was built, but the ground has fallen away ever since, until it’s no longer safe.’

They moved on up, anxiety growing on them, until suddenly Renzo said, ‘I can see him.’

Henry was up ahead on a ridge, turning to watch them, waving like a victor.

‘Damned fool!’ Renzo snapped. ‘He’s actually pleased with himself.’