No Promises, No Names

The charter flight out of Reykjavik has one rule and everyone on it is breaking it: do not talk to the man in row four. Mara Vela is a travel writer with deadlines and no patience. Cole Herrera is in the window seat, in a very good sweater, and he does not want to be spoken to. Then the engine fails, the plane comes down on a black sand beach in the Westfjords, and the man in row four turns out to be the only person on board who knows how to build a fire. They walk to a fishing cabin. They have one survival kit, one broken radio, and four days before the weather clears. On the first night they agree: no promises, no names, no questions. It holds until the second night. The helicopter comes on day five. He flies to London. She flies home. Six weeks later, her magazine is sold to a buyer she has never met — until he turns around in her editor's office and she recognises the sweater. He is very good at keeping promises. So is she.