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.