feeling for support. She had to climb down backwards. It
was impossible to walk down. She was only a short way
from the top when she heard the car engine in the
distance. It appeared to be racing along the bumpy narrow
track. Stones rattled and flew as the wheels spun. She
wondered if Jake had intended to get here early to help her
down, and then, hearing the car stop with a ferocious jerk,
turned her head to smile at him.
The smile froze on her face. It was not Jake, but Marc,
who had leapt out of the driving seat of the khaki jeep
drawn up far below her.
His expression as he looked up at her was grim. She
could see, even from this distance, the tight clenching of
his jaw and teeth. The flash of the hard grey eyes.
He was bitterly angry, that much was obvious.
Shock made her move too quickly. She felt her hands
slip, felt the tearing pain of the rock biting into her skin,
h
er feet slithering helplessly down. Panic blotted out all
thought for an instant, during which time she grasped
desperately at the rock face and spread-eagled herself
against it, toes curling into the niche they had somehow
found.
Stones rattled downwards nearby. She heard quick,
harsh breathing. Then an arm clamped round her and she
was pulled against a cool blue shirt, her face buried
against Marc’s chest.
For a second there was a silence, then he asked roughly,
“Are you badly hurt?”
Kate lifted her head, without looking up at him, and