Can't Say No (10 page)

“And break your concentration?” she said with sheer bravado. “Not a chance. Unless I miss my guess, that's exactly what got us into this mess.”

She leaned out of the gondola to decide whether it was time to start praying—or jump. The tops of what she hoped were some very tall trees appeared to be no more than the length of a football field below them. She could hear what was very definitely the roar of the raging river, though on closer inspection she had to admit it did appear to be somewhat smaller and more shallow than she'd first thought. That observation required only a minor adjustment in her dire imaginings. She'd probably die plummeting headfirst onto the jagged rocks, instead of drowning. She was glad she'd had that last sizzling kiss before she went.

Then she decided it was better not to look and clamped her hands over her eyes. She could feel the balloon dropping at a speed no doubt faster than any ton of lead. Images of imminent contact with treetops and swirling water flashed through her mind with sickening clarity. Just when she was convinced there was no hope for them, she heard the sputter, then the roar of a timely spurt of flame. The balloon seemed to catch the air like an opening parachute and the downward plummeting slowed.

So, finally, did her heartbeat, as they began to climb again.

She parted the fingers she was holding over her eyes and peeked at Blake. “Is that going to happen again?”

“I hope not.”

“I don't suppose you could inject a little more certainty into your voice?”

“It's a common enough occurrence. Every pilot knows how to deal with it.” He gestured toward the ground, which was dropping away again. “See, we're not in any danger. We're on our way back up. No problem.”

“Unless you count the fact that my heart stopped beating for a few minutes, then made up for it by slamming against my ribs like a freight train. That can't possibly be healthy.”

He surveyed her with disconcerting thoroughness, starting with her mouth, drifting lower to linger on her breasts, then on, right straight down to her toes. “Everything working okay now?”

Everything was tingling, but she wasn't about to tell him that. “I'm not sure.” To her disgust, her voice came out all quivery.

“Come here and let me check.”

She groaned at the seductive gleam in his eyes. “Don't you ever think about anything else?”

Blake seemed to consider the question carefully. “Nope. Not since you turned up this morning. Before that, though, my mind was entirely on this race.”

“You know you have a fascinating array of seduction techniques, Mr. Marshall. Perhaps we should try marketing those to one of the men's magazines...
101 Ways to Get a Woman into Your Arms
. How do you think Harvey would feel about that?”

“Forget Harvey. I'd hate it. Besides, I'd rather think of some way to keep her there. My technique at that must need work. You keep running away from me.”

“It should give you no end of satisfaction to know that as long as we're up here, I won't get far.”

“Eventually, we'll have to land,” he said, his expression suddenly sobering. Her pulse fluttered, as his voice softened and strummed lightly over her nerves. “What happens then, Audrey? Will you run?”

She should. Every instinct told her that it would be the smart thing to do, but, Lord, she didn't want to. Blake was making her feel special again. He was making her feel like a woman. Flames, even brighter and more dangerous than before, spiraled through her at the mere thought of his touches.

“Hot,” she murmured abruptly, tugging her sweatshirt over her head to reveal a scoop-necked sleeveless T-shirt. She caught the blazing look in Blake's eyes and grabbed a plastic plate from inside the cooler and began fanning herself. Blake might have concluded she wasn't a wimp by now, but he was going to think she was nuts. Would he still want her then?

“I'd be glad to help you cool off,” he offered, lifting the top of the cooler as he sat down next to her. So far, he seemed to be taking her actions in stride. Apparently he was a very tolerant man.

“How?”

“Just lean back and close your eyes.”

“Shouldn't you be making sure we get back on course for the race?”

“I've done that. Now hush.” He pressed a finger to her lips and she obediently closed them. “Shut your eyes.”

At the hypnotic purr of his voice her eyes drifted closed, then snapped open. One dark brow lifted warily. “I'm not sure I can trust a man who doesn't want me to see what he's up to.”

“If you're hot, what I have in mind is better than air-conditioning.”

Audrey wasn't sure her overheated flesh had anything to do with the temperature, but she was willing to give him a chance to lower her body's thermostat—as long as he didn't touch her. One fleeting caress and she'd be done for. She'd melt into a little puddle and that was all they'd find of her when the balloon landed. Blake would have a lot of explaining to do over that.

It might be worth it, she decided with a sigh and obligingly closed her eyes.

Suddenly a trickle of icy water slid along the curve of her shoulder, crept past her collarbone, then ran in a cooling rivulet between her breasts. Her eyes snapped open, accompanied by a startled gasp. Blake was sitting next to her, his face flushed, his concentration intense as he held an ice cube over her. The look of absolute fascination on his face was enough to make her pulse skitter crazily.

“Just sit still,” he urged gently as he trailed the cube very, very slowly along the sensitive flesh on the inside of her arm. Her skin cooled, but an unexpectedly fiery sensation shot straight through to her abdomen.

With the lightest of touches, he marked a path along the scooped neckline of her T-shirt and Audrey felt her nipples harden to sensitive buds as they did on a chilly morning. Blake's gaze fell on the peaks that strained against the lightly ribbed fabric and his lips curved into a satisfied smile. Her eyes widened, met his and she glanced away. She was afraid he would read too much in her eyes, would know that her senses were responding all too readily.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” he asked huskily.

“Umm,” she murmured noncommittally, not wanting him to stop, but afraid to allow him to go on. The exquisite sensations building in her were so sharp and intense they were impossible to resist, though, once more, she told herself that if she was to stay in control of her own fate, she had to.

When she uttered no real protest, Blake continued on relentlessly. The trail across her skin was icy cold, yet it was leaving a white-hot path of heat in its wake. Audrey's muscles tensed as her sensitized flesh waited for the next touch, the next slow stroke of fire and ice.

She felt Blake's fingers at her waist, then the quick tug as he pulled her shirt from the waistband of her pants. Her hand automatically reached out to stop him, but he stilled her gesture and lifted the shirt barely an inch, just enough to trace a delicate line across her bare belly with the ice. Tension coiled more tightly within her as she tried to anticipate where the next touch would come.

Too much, she thought. The feelings were too raw, too intense. She had to stop them before they whirled out of control, before they led her down a path she wasn't ready to travel. Much more of this and she'd drag him down on the floor of the gondola again, and this time, instead of yelling in his ear, she'd have her way with him.

Deftly, she reached her hand into the cooler and picked up her own handful of ice, quickly slipping it inside the collar of Blake's shirt, where it slid down his back and lodged at the waistband of his jeans.

His eyes widened in shock and his outraged gasp brought an immediate end to his own uneven breathing. He yanked his shirt loose so the ice fell free. Then he glowered at her, reaching for more ice of his own.

“So that's the way you want to play, Ms. Nelson.” His voice was laced with laughter and feigned menace.

She scooted out of his reach. “No, honest. I didn't mean it.” She covered her breasts, but couldn't figure out how to keep his approaching hands away from her back.

“You didn't mean to drop that ice down my back?” The deep-throated, disbelieving rasp of his voice sent a shiver along her spine. “I suppose you just found it in your hand and didn't know what else to do with it?”

“Something like that,” she mumbled, trying to quiet the laughter that threatened to bubble up. He looked so indignant, to say nothing of disappointed. He hadn't expected his ardor to cool quite so radically.

“Uh-uh. I'm not buying it and you, my sweet, are going to pay.”

“Pay?” she repeated, her voice quivering slightly. “How?”

There was a wicked gleam in his eyes as he held the ice just beyond her reach for a tormenting eternity, before finally dropping it at her feet to melt. “On second thought, I think I'll just let you wait and see.”

Audrey watched the puddle form and had the strangest sensation that she'd have been better off with that ice dumped inside her T-shirt. “Blake Marshall, this is not some game.”

“Isn't it?”

Maybe it was, but if so, the rules were all new to her. She thought she'd be safer playing Monopoly, but she doubted if Blake would sit still for a competition over a mythical Park Place or Boardwalk. Buying up property had become commonplace to him. He'd added hundreds of acres to the vineyard since he first purchased it. She, on the other hand, represented a challenge.

Audrey knew a few things about men and challenges. They often lost interest, once they'd gotten what they wanted. And the more you fought them, the higher you made the stakes, the more determined they became to get what they wanted. It had something to do with that ridiculous macho stubbornness.

Knowing that was all very nice, but it didn't solve her problem. There would be a huge risk in giving in to Blake. If she took away the challenge and hoped that he'd vanish once the thrill of the chase was gone, she'd probably be head over heels in love with the man before the game ended. He was already clambering over walls she'd thought were too high to be breached.

Perhaps that was the only choice she had. She could give in and then try very hard to show Blake that she wasn't the woman for him. She was no adventurer who would thrill to taking risks, and he would grow quickly bored with the simple life she'd chosen for herself. It was a risk she was going to have to consider.

But not now. Now she was going to savor what was left of their day together, accept whatever it had to offer. The memories would be something she could recall on cold winter nights when she was fighting loneliness and boredom.

“Hungry?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts. “There's some cold chicken in the cooler.”

“No, thanks. This is no time for a picnic.”

“Why not?”

“Because picnics are supposed to be on the ground, maybe in a park or at the beach.”

“Who made up that rule?”

“It doesn't matter,” she said stubbornly. “It's just one of those things that sensible people know.”

“I see,” he said. He nodded sagely, but she saw the tiny suggestion of a smirk on his face before he added persuasively, “I'm sure there's a park down there somewhere.”

“But we're not in it. In fact, do you have any idea where we are now?”

“Oh, I'd say we're about halfway to Glenwood Springs.”

“Any sign of Larry Hammond?”

“Nope.” He didn't sound particularly distressed.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. This has turned into more fun than any race I've been in before.”

“But you're going to lose.”

“You can prevent that,” he retorted with a look that was pure invitation.

“I meant the race.”

He grinned at her. “What did you think I meant?”

She squirmed uncomfortably. “Never mind.”

“It won't matter so much, if you console me.”

She shot him an indignant look. “I have no intention of consoling you,” she warned, then taunted deliberately, “Frankly, you deserve to lose. You haven't been paying one bit of attention to what you were supposed to be doing. Seems to me like all this media hype about what a hotshot competitor you are was pure hokum.”

“Hokum?” Blake's voice rose ominously.

She ignored his tone and doubled the implied dare. “That's right. You get some woman up here with you, your libido takes over and it's goodbye race. It must not have meant as much to you as I thought. The media will have a field day when they discover that you lost not only to Larry Hammond, but to half a dozen others, just because you couldn't keep your mind on what you were doing.”

Blake sputtered indignantly, but she kept right on. “Of course, it will fit right in with that image of yours as a womanizer. Just try to keep my name out of it.”

“Are you trying to egg me on? Do you actually care whether I win this race?”

“Not for myself,” she said blithely, leaning back staring up at the inside of the huge balloon. She didn't dare look him in the eyes. “I just want to get back on the ground.”

He grinned at her and nodded. “I see. Very clever.” He paused, then asked, “Are you sure you're not just the least bit concerned about my feelings?”

“Don't go getting any ideas, Marshall. I'll admit I thought it was important to you, but obviously that's not the case.” She allowed the charge to hang in the air, then prodded quietly, “What about John Harley and this Jenkins, though? Don't you owe it to them to at least try?”

“Why are you so worried about them? You don't even know Harley and Jenkins.”

“That doesn't mean I don't have a sense of honor. From what I gathered, John Harley has done a lot for you. He seems to think you're pretty special. And you said Jenkins put up part of the money for your entry. Of course, if that doesn't matter to you...”