Can't Say No

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He grinned. Thank God, she was finally making jokes. He tapped her on the nose. “Just humor me. Hold out your hands.”

Like a child whose hand-washing technique was being evaluated by a critical parent, she glowered at him, but she held out her hands for his inspection. They were dainty, the sort of hands that could caress a man with a gentle, magical touch. Her short nails, just long enough for setting up shock waves along a man’s spine, were buffed to a clear shine.

“I knew it,” he said approvingly, sharply aware of the little frisson of excitement that was racing along his own spine. “You don’t spend half your life at a manicurist. Do you realize how many women go into a deep depression if they break a nail? Do you realize how often some of them change their polish to match their outfits? I’ve been left cooling my heels while some woman had her nails wrapped, whatever that is,” he muttered in bewilderment. Sometimes he wondered how he’d survived the inanity of it.

“Sounds like a tough life,” Audrey said with a touch of mockery. If he’d been expecting sympathy, he’d definitely taken the wrong tack. She gestured at the balloon. “What about this? Where does this fit in? Are all the stories about your obsession with this exaggerated, too? Is this just another public relations ploy?”

Audrey watched closely as Blake’s blue eyes instantly sparkled with unsophisticated, boyish excitement. She saw the tension leave his shoulders and the gentle softening of his lips. “Now this is something else again,” he said in that husky tone that played over her nerves like a lover’s caress. “Every word you’ve ever read about my love affair with this is probably true.”

“I don’t get it. Is it the danger, the thrill, what?”

“It’s an escape. It gives me a sense of total freedom, a release from all the pressures of work, even though it has its own challenges. I think all of us harbor a desire to be able to experience flight like a bird. This is the closest man can come.”

“It’s a little too close, if you ask me.”

“Come on now,” he chided. “Just take a look around.”

“I’d rather not,” she muttered, pointedly keeping her gaze directed at his knees, where the denim of his jeans was unexpectedly and charmingly worn and faded. Good heavens, what was wrong with her? She didn’t want to be charmed by anything about this man—not his infectious smile, his brief flashes of sensitivity and certainly not by a worn spot in his pants. “I think I’ll just stay right down here. I get dizzy standing on the first step of a ladder.”

“Come on,” he taunted persuasively. “You’re no coward.”

“Who says?”

“I do. Stand up. You don’t know what you’re missing.” He held out his hand. His fingers were square and strong, his hands roughened by work, good honest labor. Blake Marshall was clearly no pampered executive and, for all the publicity, he was apparently far more than a jet-setting playboy. She’d heard tales of his days in the fields working side by side with his men. She’d thought they were merely publicity schemes dreamed up by Harvey. Now she saw the proof. It only added to the enigma.

When Audrey took his hand at last, she told herself she wasn’t abandoning her fury at her predicament, that she wasn’t giving in. Except, perhaps, to temptation. She allowed him to pull her to her feet, then didn’t do a thing to stop him when he drew her to his side. She told herself she needed the support, especially since her eyes were clamped tightly shut again.

“Now just look around,” he urged. “Have you ever seen anything any more beautiful?”

She opened one eye and peeked. A bright yellow balloon, decorated with a large rat that reminded her rather vividly of her opinion of Harvey, hovered a few hundred feet away. A multicolored balloon was just above them to the right. Snowcapped mountain peaks beckoned from a distance, and far, very far, below were thousands of colorful specks dotting the meadow like so many wildflowers.

“People?” she mumbled in a choked whisper. “Those are people down there? Exactly how high up are we?”

“Not so far.”

“How high, Blake?”

“Maybe a thousand feet, probably less. That’s nothing. We’re just drifting now. Wait until we go over the mountains.”

She twisted around until she could get a good look at his face. He seemed to be serious.

“I am not going over any mountains,” she said adamantly. An assertive woman made her point without wavering, wasn’t that what she’d read? “Am I making myself clear? No way. You do not pay me enough money to make me go one foot higher in this thing.”

The blasted man grinned at her. “Perhaps not,” he said, “but I do seem to have you at a disadvantage, unless you brought along a parachute.”

She obviously didn’t have the knack quite yet for making herself perfectly clear. He thought she was still pussyfooting around. Like Harvey, he was just hunting for the right buttons to push. In this case, there most definitely weren’t any. She wanted to be back on the ground and she wanted to be there now! She was tired of being understanding about this little case of mistaken identity. She was tired of being patient. And she was definitely tired of floating around up here, like a dandelion caught on a breeze. The only thing she wasn’t tired of was Blake and that wasn’t something she cared to deal with.

“Blake Marshall, you take me back down there this instant or I will report you to every government agency I can think of that supports and enforces employee rights. I will charge you with harassment, unsafe working conditions, discrimination. I will dream up so many lawsuits, your attorneys will be able to retire on what you’ll have to spend to defend yourself.”

Her outburst, of which she was particularly proud, didn’t seem to faze him one whit. “Harassment, huh? Sexual harassment? An interesting idea.”

There was a decidedly wicked gleam in his eyes that suddenly made her even more nervous. Her heart, which had been ready to stop when she looked out and saw where she was, was now palpitating so fast she was sure she ought to be heading straight for an emergency room. She doubted if Blake would even bother to call Mountain Rescue. His mind seemed to be on other things. Her mouth, for instance. He seemed to find it fascinating.

His arm, which had never loosened its firm grip on her waist, tightened just a bit and his head lowered ever so slowly. She could see the kiss coming, could feel the warm whisper of his mint-scented morning breath against her cheek and she was powerless to stop it. Blast it all, she didn’t even want to, which was the worst trick yet this morning. What good did it do to say no, when your whole body was shouting yes? Blake was a perceptive man. He obviously heard those shouts all too clearly.

She caught the triumphant gleam in his eyes just before his lips covered hers, slanting heat across trembling moistness. She had just a fraction of a second in which she might have managed a half-hearted objection, but it stuck in her throat as his mouth teased gently and then possessed, taking away not only her breath, but all thoughts of protest. In fact, there wasn’t a rational thought left in her head as she gave herself up to the most provocative, enticing sensations she’d ever experienced.

Maybe it was the altitude. More likely, it was Blake Marshall teaming up with her suddenly rampaging hormones. Whatever it was, the kiss left her weak and chastened and just about willing to do anything the man suggested, short of jumping out of the gondola at one thousand dead-on-crashing feet. For a woman who’d planned to spend the next week learning to be assertive, it was obvious she’d failed the first lesson. Worse, with Blake’s arms tight around her, she didn’t even mind.

Then the phrase “good sport” crept into her mind, followed by “understanding woman.” It was like hearing a battle cry, with enemy troops just over the crest of a hill. She put her hands against Blake’s rather solid chest and shoved with all her might.

“You have some nerve!” she said indignantly, when she could manage to get a word out without sounding all breathless and fluttery. “Is this how you seduce your string of women? Do you get them up in one of these dumb balloons and then take advantage of them, when they don’t have anyplace to run?”

“At the risk of sounding egotistical, most women I know aren’t interested in running.”

“Well, I am. I don’t even know you. I do not go around kissing strangers.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to change that, won’t we?” he said with absolute calm as he shot another blast of hot air into the balloon.

Audrey had seen enough by now to know that the hot air sent them up, not down. Her stomach rolled over. “Change what?” she asked, regarding him warily.

“The fact that we’re strangers.”

Audrey didn’t want to be disagreeable, not if it would end her captivity at a height that made her head swim. “Fine. We’ll meet later for drinks. After the race. A friend told me about this great little outdoor café in Aspen. We can have a drink and celebrate your victory.”

“Why wait?”

Good question. He’d already heard most of her salient answers and he wasn’t particularly impressed with them. She tried one last time to remind him of the race. Not so long ago it had been all-important.

“How much talking will we be able to do, if you have to keep your mind on the race?”

One brow arched. “You could help. Working side by side often makes a relationship much stronger.”

She folded her arms stubbornly across her chest. “Not on your life.”

“Then I can probably manage to do two things at once.” His glance slid over her with provocative slowness. His voice softened to a purr. A little more oomph and it would have been a predatory growl. “If I couldn’t and had to choose, though, I think I’d opt for getting to know you.”

Her pulse leaped crazily.

Flattery, Audrey, that’s all it is, she told herself. A man resorts to insincere flattery when he’s losing his case. All she had to do was muster a few more convincing arguments along this line and she’d be down on the ground in no time and Blake would be soaring on to another victory. Harvey would have his publicity coup and she would have her sanity, to say nothing of keeping her limbs in one piece.

Then, Blake lifted his gaze to meet hers and her optimism faded, along with rational thought. There was a depth of sincerity in his eyes that rattled her more than anything else that had happened all morning. Her mouth dropped open in astonishment, then her heart began to pound.

Oh, sweet heaven! she thought, her eyes widening in dismay.

There was absolutely nothing more disconcerting than a man who switched obsessions when you were least expecting it. She had the oddest feeling that she wouldn’t feel one bit more panicky, if he’d suddenly announced that the bottom was about to drop out of the gondola.

In fact, she was beginning to think that was the only way she was ever likely to get back down to earth.

Three (#ulink_49b721be-2fcd-5c05-a4d0-cc902a709afd)

A disembodied voice that she didn’t want to believe came from heaven—though it wouldn’t have surprised her the way her day was going—suddenly penetrated Audrey’s consciousness.

“That’s the last of the competitors lifting off the ground now, folks. In another five minutes, this year’s Snowmass Balloon Festival will officially get underway.”

Audrey peered cautiously over the side of the gondola and saw the announcer perched on top of the shelter, a microphone in his hand, his legs swinging over the edge of the roof. His blithe little announcement made her blood run cold. She’d been arguing with Blake for the better part of an hour to no avail. Five minutes didn’t seem like nearly long enough to come up with a clincher.

The announcer went on with what she thought was disgusting enthusiasm. “Today’s event is an unusual one, a long distance race, with the winner being determined by the distance achieved. For those of you who plan to follow on the highway, keep an eye on that blue and gold balloon piloted by Larry Hammond of Austin, Texas, and on the Grapes of Wrath, piloted by Blake Marshall, who makes that excellent California champagne you’re all sipping today.”

Nice PR, Audrey thought instinctively, then wondered about the announcement’s overall implications for her under the current circumstances. She didn’t have to wonder for long.

“Word has it these two men have been locked in a fierce competition on the circuit this year. Right now, they’re tied. This weekend’s three events will break the deadlock, so you can bet they’re going to give us a hell of a race.”

Audrey’s startled gaze shot to Blake’s face and caught the grim expression as he surveyed Larry Hammond’s balloon. Unexpected sympathy welled up and replaced both her irritation and her single-minded concern about her own safety.

“This race isn’t just for fun,” she said. “It’s much more important to you than you’ve been admitting, isn’t it?”

Blake refused to meet her eyes. “I’ve been after Larry Hammond for the past five years, practically since the day I started ballooning. This year I’ve finally caught him,” he said in a neutral tone.

Despite his apparent indifference, she could see the tension in his shoulders. She also thought she could sense his disappointment. He had to know he was giving up his shot at a victory by keeping her with him.

“Then why on earth don’t you give yourself a real chance? Get someone up here who knows what they’re doing.”

Blake shifted uncomfortably, but he didn’t respond. They were hovering just a short distance above the ground now, too high for Audrey to jump, but low enough for her to seriously consider it. She could see John Harley and the rest of Blake’s ground crew waving frantically and pointing at a man in their midst, who was obviously supposed to be where she was. Despite the sparks between her and Blake, and because of those fiery dragon’s flames shooting above her head, she would have gladly traded places with him.

She caught a flicker of temptation in Blake’s eyes, but it vanished almost as quickly as it had come. He gave her a jaunty grin. “I think the two of us can do it.”

“Blake!” She uttered his name with an exasperated moan. “What on earth is with you? You’re certainly not being very practical. Unless having me around for ballast is a help, I won’t be of much use to you.”

“If you work for Harvey, then you know how to take directions. I know what a stickler for details he is.”

“Harvey knows my limitations. He has never asked me to fly a balloon before,” she pointed out. “He’s stuck with the simple stuff like writing press releases and pulling together the annual report. The most daring thing he’s ever asked me to do was to choose the ink for the company stationery. Even then, he was very nervous until he saw that I hadn’t picked orange.”

“Just think of the absolutely fascinating, realistic press release you’ll be able to write, after you experience this firsthand.”

“Part of the joy of being a writer is that I get to use my imagination,” Audrey countered.

Blake parried right back, not with words, but rather with a thoroughly bewitching smile. His lips curved into soft temptation. His eyes dared her. And all of her polite, sensible arguments promptly stuck in her throat.

“Please,” he said, his voice thick with husky persuasion. “Won’t you just give it a try? For me? I promise you’ll be safe. The last thing I’d ever want to do would be to put your life at risk.”

For the first time since this crazy odyssey had begun, he actually appeared to be giving her a choice. Yes or no, it was as simple—and as complex—as that. Could she say no to him? Could she turn down a man who was willing to sacrifice a dream just to keep her at his side? Could she break with twenty-seven years of tradition as a good sport?

The last one brought her up short. A good sport? She was back to that again. Her head screamed at her to take a stance this time, to say no just this once to prove she could do it, to say it forcefully without wavering. Then she met Blake’s hopeful gaze and caught his enticing half-smile.

“Well?” he said softly.

She looked determinedly at the ground below, at the mountains ahead, and tried to give her intellect—and her nervousness—full rein, but her heart was clamoring for equal attention. For some utterly insane reason, it seemed to want to stay up here with a man who had absolutely no scruples. She’d never realized she had a latent suicidal streak, to say nothing of incredibly bad taste in men. Blake might be considered quite a catch by most women, but by her standards he was no better than a presumptuous rake.

“What the hell,” she muttered at last. “Let’s give it a shot.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she groaned, turned away and pounded on the side of the gondola. The willow ridges cut into the soft side of her fist. The pain was almost welcome.

“Poking a hole in this isn’t a particularly good idea,” Blake said casually. “Care to explain why you feel the need to try?”

She peered over at him. “You’d never in a million years understand.”

“As soon as we get this thing moving, why don’t you try to tell me? I’m a pretty good listener.”

The last thing Audrey wanted to do was inform a man who clearly had a will of iron that she had a backbone with all the resilience of overcooked spaghetti. If he was around her for long, he’d figure it out for himself, a prospect that didn’t please her. In fact, it had occurred to her more than once this morning that while she might be increasingly attracted to Blake, he was absolutely the last man on earth she should ever consider looking at twice.