Can't Say No

by Sherryl Woods

  “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

  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.

  She’d once been involved with a man exactly like him, a man who wouldn’t take no for an answer, a man so compelling and strong that her own personality had been swallowed up and lost. Blake was just as overwhelming, and because of that, he was a danger to every vow she’d made to get control of her life, to exchange roller-coaster excitement for serenity. Admittedly, she thought wryly, vows of poverty and chastity probably had a better chance for success in this day and age.

  She’d thought she was doing better. While she might still be a pushover for Harvey’s requests, at least she put up a halfhearted fight. She only acceded to her friends’ desperate calls for help out of long-standing loyalty.

  By contrast, she’d just given in to Blake, a man she’d known less than two hours, with barely more than a whimper of protest. There was no loyalty involved. That wickedly dazzling smile of his, combined with just a hint of vulnerability accompanying his plea, had done it. He’d charmed her into sticking with him. Without even trying very hard, he had overcome every bit of her common sense and outright panic. Who knew what he could talk her into, if he really put his mind to it. She’d probably never say no again.

  There was no choice, really. She wouldn’t back out now and add indecisiveness to her list of failings, but once this race was over and she had her feet firmly on the ground again, she’d put them to good use...running as far from Blake Marshall as she could, while she still had the will to do it.

  “Blake?” John Harley’s voice crackled from the hand-held radio that was lying on top of a small cooler. It was one of two radios in the gondola. The other one spewed forth frequent information from the airport tower about aircraft in the vicinity. Audrey had been trying very hard not to think about the implications of that.

  “Blake, pick up the radio.”

  Blake seemed intent on ignoring it.

  “Dammit, son, are you out of your mind? Jenkins is down here waiting.”

  Blake picked up the radio at last, avoiding Audrey’s curious gaze. “Sorry. I already have a passenger.”

  “That little girl looks scared to death. Jenkins paid a fortune for the privilege of being up there with you today. You don’t leave a sponsor hanging around on the ground, while you go for some damn joyride.”

  “This is no joyride. I have every intention of winning. Jenkins will have to be satisfied with that.”

  “You can’t win if your mind’s on other things. What happens if something goes wrong?”

  “Nothing is going to go wrong. Besides, you’ll be following along in the chase truck. I’m sure you won’t let us out of your sight.”

  Audrey was listening to the exchange with a resurgence of her initial panic. If John Harley was concerned about her inexperience, then she was in far more trouble than she realized. She’d gotten caught up in some temporarily romantic notion that floating around up here like a bird was a piece of cake.

  “What’s he talking about?” she asked Blake. “What kind of trouble?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he soothed. For a man who’d glibly talked her into going along for the ride, he seemed surprisingly bereft of convincing words just now. “You’ll be able to handle anything that comes up.”

  The reassuring tone was nice, but not nearly enough. “I want to worry about it. I like to worry, especially if imminent death is the subject.”

  Blake’s expression was excessively tolerant. “We are not going to be killed. John was just born cautious.”

  “Not altogether a bad trait.”

  “Don’t pay any attention to him.”

  John, however, didn’t seem inclined to be ignored. The radio spewed out another stream of static, along with a stern lecture on foolhardiness.

  Blake glowered over the side of the gondola and inquired via radio, “Has there been any change in the reports from the weather service?”

  Audrey peered down to see John’s reaction to having his advice so calmly discounted. He was scowling up at the two of them, his wrinkled face totally disapproving.

  “Missy, are you okay?”

  Before Audrey could speak for herself, Blake said, “She’s fine. Now, what about the weather?”

  John muttered something unintelligible, then sighed. “The weather report is unchanged, clear until noon or so, then some storms brewing.”

  “Thanks, John. We’ll see you in Glenwood Springs.”

  “You do remember where it is, don’t you?”

  Blake laughed and gave him a thumbs-up gesture. “I checked the map, old man.”

  “Glad to hear it. You ain’t shown much sense about anything else this morning.”

  “Stop hounding me and get out on the road. If I lose sight of Hammond, keep me posted on his progress.”

  “If you lose sight of Hammond, you’ll have more to worry about than his progress. Over.”

  “What did he mean by that?” Audrey asked, instantly alert.

  “Just that the course should be pretty straightforward. If I can’t see Hammond, one of us has gone astray.”

  “Can that happen?”

  “It’s possible.”

  Audrey stared at him and sank back down again. “Oh, my God.”

  “Don’t give up on me now. We’ve got work to do, woman.”

  “I’d like an explanation first. Exactly how do we go off course? Don’t you know how to steer this thing?”

  “Sure,” he said confidently. “Up and down.”

  Her eyes widened. “Up and down? What about forward and back?”

  “That’s a little trickier.”

  “How tricky?”

  “Actually that part’s up to the air currents.”

  That vague sense of alarm that foolishly had gone into hiding came back with a vengeance. “We’re floating around up here at the whim of some fickle wind?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “I’ve changed my mind. I’d like to take the down ride now.”

  “Too late, sweetheart. We’re off.”

  Tension made her numb, except for the pulse in her neck that seemed to be fluttering excessively fast. A little more reassurance now would have been nice, but Blake seemed to be occupied with a number of inexplicable maneuvers, including spilling little drops of water over the side of the gondola.

  “If that’s our water supply, would you mind preserving it?” she requested over the lump that had lodged in her throat. She was beginning to envision spending the rest of the summer and then a long, very cold winter stranded on a mountain with only Blake for warmth. To her disgust, certain aspects of the image held a very strong appeal.

  “Just checking the wind. We’ll have plenty left if we need it.” He opened the vent in the side of the balloon, allowing the air to cool slightly, and guided it down into a more favorable curren
t. His movements were efficient and, even to her untrained eye, skilled. They also displayed his masculine strength to full advantage. He had stripped off his windbreaker and was working in a snug-fitting polo shirt. A thorough exploration of the corded muscles in his arms distracted her temporarily. Those titillating images danced through her head again.

  He glanced down at her. “How are you enjoying the ride so far?”

  Audrey tried to concentrate on the warmth in his eyes, but she couldn’t help noticing that a few remaining, low-hanging clouds were zipping past at a dizzying speed. “I’ll let you know later.”

  Blake stopped what he was doing and gazed at her with concern. “You aren’t still afraid, are you?”

  “Does the phrase ‘stark terror’ mean anything to you?”

  He knelt down beside her. As a distraction, it was very effective. The bulging muscles of his thighs were mere inches from her fingers. She tried to recall everything she’d ever read in her high school chemistry and biology books, but she couldn’t think of a single thing to explain the powerful reaction sweeping over her. It was probably in the sex education text, anyway, and that had been banned from her school.

  His hand curved along her jaw and he tilted her head up until their eyes clashed. “You are safe with me,” he said gently. “Promise.”

  Audrey shook her head. Even if he wasn’t aware of it, she knew it was a lie. She might be safe enough in this flimsy balloon, though she had her doubts, but she wasn’t safe with Blake Marshall at all. She’d have been more secure in a pit of vipers.

  “Who’s Jenkins?” she asked, just to get her mind off the urgent and nearly irresistible desire to check out the muscle tone in Blake’s thigh.

  “A sponsor,” he answered and quickly got to his feet. Too quickly. Suddenly he didn’t seem interested in meeting her gaze. He couldn’t have done more to arouse her curiosity if he’d tried.

  “What does that mean?”

  “He puts up a chunk of money for these races.”

  “And he was supposed to fly with you this morning?”