Page 29 of The Unlikely Pair

The light is fading fast, the darkness transforming the forest into a scene straight out of a low-budget horror film. I half expect a guy in a hockey mask to jump out from behind a tree.

Although, at this point, I’d probably welcome the company.

“We should gather firewood before it gets too dark,” I say.

“We can’t light a fire. Too risky. It’s like waving a flag at our pursuers, telling them exactly where we are,” Harry says.

“So we freeze to death instead?”

“It won’t get that cold,” he says in a pompous, know-it-all tone.

“Are you kidding me, Harry? We’re in Scandinavia in October. Cold is what it specializes in.”

“I think you’ll find Scandinavia specializes in many other things besides the climate,” Harry says.

“Forgive me, Harry. I left myFun Facts About Scandinaviaguidebook in my luggage. But hey, I’m really looking forward to the frostbite bringing out the blue in your eyes.”

Harry rolls his eyes, his face one of disdain, but nevertheless, the exchange has buoyed my mood.

It appears some perverse part of me likes sparring with Harry.

Maybe it’s because it’s the only normal thing I can grasp when my entire world has tipped upside down?

I might be lost in the Scandinavian wilderness with armed terrorists hunting me, but Harry Matheson is still an annoying prick. It’s nice to have one point of consistency in the world.

I dump the survival kit on the ground. Then, I gather the loose sticks around the clearing, stacking them into a pile.

Harry stands by the survival kit, his gaze narrowing. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gathering wood so I can light a fire.”

“If you light a fire, I’ll stamp it out,” Harry replies coolly.

We stare at each other in a standoff. Harry’s first to break our mutual glaring, glancing at the survival kit at his feet. “What do you suggest we should do? Split the emergency supplies between us and go our own way? Say good luck and see you back at Westminster?” The animosity has drained from his voice, leaving only flatness.

At the thought of being alone out here, my heart pumps even harder than when we had an enemy helicopter hovering overhead.

“No. I don’t want to do that,” I say quickly.

Harry raises his gaze, and his blue eyes seem too bright in the dimming light.

“The only way we’re going to survive this is together.”

I swallow hard. “I know.”

Our gazes remain locked for a long moment.

Is my survival instinct stronger than my hatred of Harry? It’s going to be a difficult test.

The idea I’m reliant on Harry Matheson for my survival is abhorrent. But equally, I really, really don’t want to die.

I think of all the things that went through my brain as the plane plummeted from the sky. All the things I’ve never done. Like falling in love.

I need to survive this so I can get home and have a chance to do all those things.

I take a deep breath.

“All right, if we’re not lighting a fire, how are we not dying from hypothermia, genius?”