Despite fear, despite anger, despite everything, she wanted that kiss as much as he did. More, perhaps, because it had been so long since she’d felt this yearning, this dull, sweetly tormenting ache deep inside. Eyes locked with his, she lifted his hand to her lips and brushed a kiss across his knuckles. The gesture, meant as an answer, set off a trembling in him and a harsh moan rumbled deep in his throat.
“You’re sure I’m not pressuring you?”
Audrey gave him a shaky grin. “Hey, don’t let that stop you now.”
“I will stop, if it’s what you want.”
“No, please. It’s okay. I don’t understand it and I’m not sure I like it, but I know exactly what I want. I want you to kiss me.” She hesitated. “Very much.”
With a deep sigh of satisfaction, Blake closed his eyes and drew her close. The urgency abated. He wanted to savor every moment she was in his arms, even if she was filled with uncertainty. He wanted to delight in her fresh, clean scent that hinted of spring flowers, in the clarity of those vivid violet eyes, the feel of her warm, gently curved body pressed against the throbbing, demanding heat of his own flesh.
Lord, she felt so good held close like this, it was as though she belonged. The rightness astounded him, sent his senses reeling. He’d felt these same sharp stirrings of excitement before, but never the tenderness, the protectiveness that had almost immediately surfaced with Audrey. He knew the protectiveness was something he would have to deal with later, that Audrey was a woman who wouldn’t welcome him in the role of guardian. She had things to prove to herself and he had no right to stand in her way. It was the only way she would rid herself of those foolish insecurities.
For now, though, he found the combination of feelings swirling through him irresistible. This second, more volatile kiss was inevitable.
He searched her face for any sign of lingering hesitation or regret and, finding none, he breathed a soft sigh of relief. Able to wait no longer for the taste of her, he pressed his lips to her forehead, to the tiny furrows in her brow that came, he suspected, from fretting far too much about inconsequential things. With the touch of his lips, he hoped to ease the worrying. The silkiness of her skin lured him on, next to her cheeks, then to the tip of her nose and, when her eyelids had fluttered closed, to each of those in turn.
By the time he reached the generous curve of her mouth, her own lips had parted for him and what began in gentleness escalated quickly into fire and hunger. Mere acceptance of his touch became ardent demand. Her teeth were sharp and teasing against his invading tongue and he felt her body tremble from head to toe. His flesh burned with the heat of her touch and his muscles tightened in anticipation of all that was to come. With that potent kiss, they shared breath and need and life.
“Blake! Dammit, Blake, what the devil are you up to now?”
John’s irritated, anxious words on the radio slashed across the moment’s tenderness, cooled passion more effectively than an icy shower.
“Damn!” Blake muttered, as he grabbed the radio. He kept one arm firmly around Audrey’s waist, his hand splayed on the curve of her hip. To his relief, she didn’t draw away immediately. In fact, her gaze traveled over his face at leisure, her eyes wide, as though she’d been as startled as he was by the intensity of the kiss.
“Blake!”
“John, you’ve got a lousy sense of timing.”
“If my timing were any worse, you’d be getting your feet wet in another few minutes.”
His eyes still locked with Audrey’s, Blake inquired distractedly and without much interest, “What are you talking about?”
“You’re losing altitude. I thought at first you were heading down to a better current, but you’ve been dropping for too long now. I don’t like the looks of it. Is there some sort of problem?”
That brought him out of his trance. Blake glanced out and saw that they were, indeed, lower than any of the other balloons in the vicinity. He couldn’t even spot the blue and gold of Larry Hammond’s entry.
“Where’s Hammond?”
“Forget Hammond for the moment, unless you want to take a dunking in the creek.”
That woke Audrey up. The dazed expression in her eyes faded. “What creek?” she said, suddenly trying to free herself to get a look. Blake knew she wasn’t going to like what she saw one bit. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about it himself. He tried to nestle her head in the curve of his shoulder, but she was having none of it.
“I want to see!” She peered past him and her body sagged in his arms, as she murmured, “Oh, dear heaven, we’re going down in a river. We are going to drown.” She glared at him and repeatedly punched a finger square in the middle of his chest. “And if we do, Blake Marshall, I’m going to give you a very nasty time of it.”
He tried not to chuckle at the threat, because she was obviously so serious about it. “It’s a piddly little creek,” he observed pointedly. “Even if we were to go down in it—which we’re not going to—there’s no way you’re going to drown.”
Black brows arched in feminine skepticism. “You don’t mind if I ask John about that, do you?”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Your track record for the day isn’t exactly top of the line.”
“When have I lied to you?”
“Let me count the times,” she muttered darkly. “Would you just stop bickering with me and get this thing headed in the right direction.”
“It wasn’t so long ago that you thought down was the right direction.”
“That was before we had a raging river underneath us.”
“It is not...”
The radio crackled. “Blake, have you found the problem yet?”
Blake knew perfectly well what the problem was. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. He’d been so infatuated with Audrey, so lost in the sensuality of that kiss that he’d let the air—in the balloon, anyway—cool too long. All he needed to do was send another long burst of hot air into the envelope and they’d be flying high again. He might have been foolish, but they were certainly in no real danger, despite Audrey’s conviction that they were about to be well past their earlobes in swirling, violent white-water rapids.
“No problem,” he told John, casting a significant glance at Audrey as he spoke. He urged her toward the side, then went to turn on the propane tank.
That was when he noticed the problem. “Oh, hell,” he muttered before he could catch himself.
Audrey was leaning over his shoulder before he could take his next breath. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“‘Oh, hell’ is not nothing. It is most definitely something. I want to know what.”
This was no time to start getting distracted, but he tried to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. She shook it off. “Blake! You can’t placate me like some child. If we’re going down, I deserve to know the truth. I might have plans to make or something.”
He just barely managed to restrain a chuckle. His lips twitched, though, and she caught it. She frowned.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not trying to placate you. I swear this is nothing serious. The pilot light went out. That’s all. It happens all the time.”
He didn’t look her in the eye when he said it.
Six
“What do you mean the pilot light went out?” Audrey asked. She was particularly proud that no note of hysteria had crept into her voice. She was saving it for later—when they crashed in the river.
After all, Blake had looked perfectly calm when he made the announcement. Then again, it was obvious he was in a big hurry to get the thing lit and it wasn’t because he had a turkey ready for the oven. This pilot light of his apparently did something important. On second thought, perhaps she ought to be screaming her head off.
“Blake, you’re not answering me again. Explain about this pilot light.”
“I mean the damn thing went out,” he muttered, fiddling intently with something she couldn’t quite see and wasn’t sure she wanted
to.
“Let me try that question another way: does it matter?”
He glanced up at her. “You’re not going to like the answer to that.”
“Oh, dear heaven,” she murmured.
“Don’t go getting crazy on me. I haven’t had one of these crash on me yet.”
Suddenly Audrey noticed that puffy white clouds, which had been drifting pleasantly overhead, seemed to be receding at a rather alarming rate. “Then why are we falling?” she managed in a choked whisper, trying to decide if it was auspicious that her entire life was not flashing before her eyes yet.
“Because the air is cooling off.”
The significance of that did not slip past her. Hot air rises, cool air...dear God! “I don’t suppose you’d like to borrow some matches?”
Blake shot her a quick, encouraging grin. “Hang on to that sense of humor, sweetheart.”
“Is there anything else I should hang on to?”
“You could try me,” he suggested hopefully. The look he cast in her direction was so steamy it could have heated an entire room. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to help the air in the balloon, though it certainly warmed her from her head to her toes. She could feel her cheeks flush. She ran the tip of her tongue over dry lips.
“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, t
hen 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.”
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