“Not if I can help it.”
She nodded at his cautious phrasing, took note of their current low altitude and muttered under her breath, “We’re going to land on the trees.” She waited for the first throat-clutching sign of hysteria, but it didn’t come.
It wouldn’t be too awful, she told herself with something surprisingly akin to serenity. The aspens weren’t all that high and they’d probably just sort of dangle there like a free-hanging tree house. It might be kind of fun. Another adventure to tell the grandchildren about...if she lived long enough to marry and have kids. If lightning didn’t strike the trees.
Oh, dear heaven.
At the last second, with the silvery aspen leaves not all that far from her fingertips, a draft of air carried the gondola clear of the trees, though the balloon tangled in the branches of those along the edge of the field. They landed with an unexpected, jarring thump that threw her to her knees.
Blake was beside her in an instant, his eyes filled with concern. Audrey had always thought it would be interesting to live around one of those men who blithely led a woman into danger and then stuck around to comfort her when it got especially rough. You either wound up with nerves of steel or an ulcer, but at least he was there to hold your hand.
Blake, however, was not exactly holding her hand. He was running his hands along her thighs, in what she was sure he meant to be some sort of medical examination. Unfortunately, it was having the nerve-tightning effect of seduction. She tried to slap his hands away before they both started getting ideas.
He peered at her closely. “Are you okay?”
“Nothing’s broken and we’re on the ground, what could possibly be wrong?” she responded with a jaunty smile. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that you’ve figured out exactly what ground we’re on.”
“I know we’re in Colorado.”
“Very funny.”
He caressed her damp cheeks. “Seriously, if you’re okay, I want to call John and let him know we landed safely. Then we’ll see what we can do about waiting out this storm.”
While Blake was talking to John, Audrey glanced at her watch. It was just before noon. If the storm broke soon there would be plenty of daylight left for a rescue. John had to be wrong about the weather staying like this through the night. She’d heard people talking earlier at the rodeo grounds. They said summer storms came and went here, leaving the air fresh and cool, the sky an even clearer blue. The thunder and lightning and wind-whipped rain almost never lingered for hours on end.
This time it did.
Every white bolt of lightning and accompanying crash of thunder rattled Audrey’s frayed nerves until she was as jumpy as a cat, beneath the tarp which Blake had used to cover them. After a while, she realized it wasn’t so much the storm as it was the growing tension and electricity arcing between her and Blake in the confined space of the gondola.
Though she carefully kept their conversation on impersonal topics, every word, every phrase seemed to be rich with significance, innuendos or blatant suggestiveness. Even when they laughed together, there was something about the sound that wove the sensual web around them more tightly. She was certain that a single spark would set them ablaze.
It had something to do with the way Blake looked at her. His surveys were slow and caressing, even when his hands were not. There was heated desire in his eyes, even when his humor was its lightest, his smile its most innocent. And Audrey’s flesh responded to the touches that never came, as surely as it would have to reality. At times she felt as if the electricity building inside her would crack and rumble and split the air as dramatically as the lightning.
Dusk came before they knew it, along with a break in the storm that gave them a fleeting glimpse of a breathtakingly brilliant sunset of pink and orange and golden slashes that teased the horizon, then disappeared with a final wink of palest mauve. Sitting side by side in the gondola, they watched in awe and lifted glasses of wine in a silent toast.
“Let’s see if we can find a little dry wood and build a camp fire,” Blake suggested, when the spectacular moment ended. “I doubt they’ll come looking for us tonight, not if there are more storms in the area.”
Delighted at the prospect of activity, Audrey allowed Blake to lift her out of the gondola with arms just as strong and sure as she’d imagined. He held her just a moment longer than necessary and when he set her down, her legs were ridiculously unsteady. Unwilling to face the truth, she blamed the trembling on being cramped for so long in one position. She shook her legs to stir the circulation, then followed Blake into the grove of aspen, ignoring the smug grin she thought she’d seen in his eyes.
The earth had a damp, clean scent, but it was uneven under their feet and with twilight fading rapidly, they made a quick game of finding twigs and branches that weren’t too soaked, taking their haul back out to the clearing.
“Now what?” Audrey asked.
“We build a fire.”
“How?”
Blake regarded her curiously. “Haven’t you ever been camping?”
“Never.”
“Weren’t you a Girl Scout or something, when you were a kid?”
“Nope. My mother was into piano lessons and embroidery for little girls. She had some lovely samplers on the wall at home.” There was a wry twist of her lips as she recalled the endless, tedious hours of cross-stitches and the inept final results.
“I thought that attitude went out in another century.”
“It did, everywhere except in our household. My mother had very rigid ideas about proper behavior and practical skills. Cooking was practical, because it was the way to a man’s heart. Piano was okay, because it was a pleasant way to spend an evening. She couldn’t imagine what use a woman would find for math beyond balancing a checkbook.”
“And your father?”
“He died when I was seven. It was just my mother, my sister and me.”
“How did your sister turn out?”
“She found it even more incredibly oppressive than I did. She ran away when she was fourteen and joined a circus.”
Blake laughed. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. She became a trapeze artist, until she got married and settled down in Iowa. She had a brief rebellion, but now she’s just the sort of lady my mother wanted us to be. She belongs to the PTA, bakes pies for the church bake sales and last I heard she was starting a quilting circle.”
“Are you still rebelling?”
“No. Not exactly. I’m just trying to find out what I’m made of. I’ve spent too much of my life trying to please other people, first my mother, then...” She hesitated. “Then the man I was involved with. Everybody wants approval, but I’ve made a career of sublimating my own needs to get it. That relationship proved to me that I’d better find out if I have any strengths at all.”
“Learned anything today?” Blake asked, pointedly avoiding her gaze as he arranged the twigs for a fire.
She thought about the question for a long time and Blake let the silence build until she said, “I think maybe I have.”
“Such as?”
“I’m not quite the coward I thought I was. Not that I wasn’t scared to death when I first realized we’d taken off back in Snowmass, but I survived it.”
“Good start,” he said, then handed her some of the firewood. “Now how about finishing this fire and getting it started.”
“I don’t...” She caught a glimpse of his challenging expression and shrugged. “Okay, but don’t yell if it’s lopsided and goes out in five minutes.”
“Promise,” he agreed solemnly.
When she’d built a respectable fire, Blake brought out the cooler, which still contained chicken and another bottle of wine.
“I’m starving,” Audrey said, her voice edged with surprise.
“It’s no wonder. You wouldn’t touch anything when I offered it to you earlier.”
“I was being stubborn.”
“Yes, I remember,” he said. “I�
��m glad you’re more amenable now. I’d hate to be stuck out here with a grouch.”
“I am never a grouch,” she said haughtily.
“Oh, that’s right,” he corrected with a twinkle in his eyes. “You’re just assertive.”
Audrey arched an eyebrow. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Would I do that?”
“Absolutely. Rogues do whatever they like.”
Blake shook his head sorrowfully. “Not whatever they like. I’ve been wanting to hold you all afternoon.”
Audrey’s heartbeat fluttered wildly. “What stopped you?”
He reached out to run a finger along her cheek, then stopped in midair and shook his head. He pulled his hand away. “The look in your eyes. It’s still there. You’re still afraid of me and I can’t figure out why.”
“It’s not you exactly. It’s what you represent.”
“That powerful, domineering male type you’re afraid of.”
“Don’t forget arrogant and self-confident.”
“I’m not always so self-confident, Audrey. In fact, right now, I feel like an uncertain teenager on a first date. I haven’t felt that way in a very long time.”
“How do you like it?”
“I don’t.”
“Then maybe you have some idea how I feel, when things seem to be slipping away from me.”
“Is control so important?”
“Not over other people, Blake. Never that. Only over my own life and, yes, that’s very important.”
He nodded slowly. “After what you told me earlier, I can understand that. What do we do about it? How do I reassure you that I’ll always let you be your own person?”
“I don’t know. Time, maybe. You can’t expect me to trust you completely after knowing you for less than a day.”
“We’ll have to figure out something, because I have no intention of letting you get away and I’m not even sure how much time I can give you. I want you now.”
He spoke so solemnly and with such certainty that Audrey felt her heart go still again. There was no answer she could give him and none was really even called for. Blake had simply made a declaration of intent and, while she could warn him away again, she knew now it would do no good. He’d made some sort of decision and he would go after her now with the same sort of single-minded determination that he’d used to make a failing winery a resounding success.
“Maybe we should get some sleep,” he said softly. The simple suggestion, coming so soon after his vow to have her, carried a multitude of implications.
“They’re bound to be out early looking for us,” he added, when she said nothing.
The dying embers of the camp fire were red sparks against the night’s darkness, giving off barely enough light for Audrey to see Blake’s features. There was a decidedly hopeful gleam in his eyes that set off a wildfire of conflicting emotions inside her.
“No,” she said abruptly.
Blake watched her closely. “Are you just being stubborn again?”
“Of course not,” she denied.
“Aren’t you tired, after the day we’ve had?”
“Not a bit,” she lied boldly, trying to smother a telling yawn before he caught her.
“Well, I have to admit, I’m pretty beat,” he said.
The air throbbed with tension.
“Fine. I’ll just sit here and watch the fire a little longer. Don’t worry about me.”
“Audrey, you’re going to get cold,” he said, his voice edgy with impatience. She could see him struggle as he tried to temper his tone. “If we curl up here together, we’ll be able to keep each other warm.”
He made it sound perfectly innocent and logical, but logic had nothing to do with the frisson of excitement that played along her spine. Curl up together...dear heaven!
“Not a good idea.”
“You’re being foolish. We’ve just been all through this. Nothing will happen unless you want it to.”
Exactly, she thought. That was the problem. She wanted it to. If she curved her body along the length of Blake’s, she might as well kiss her resistance goodbye. She doubted if there was a woman with blood in her veins who’d be able to say no with his compelling masculinity stretched out beside her. And she just knew those powerful arms would be around her. Where else would he put them? He wasn’t likely to spend the night with his hands tucked in his pockets. Even with the best intentions in the world, those hands of his were going to find their way to her flesh, even if they had to remove several layers of clothing to get there.
Worse, she wouldn’t stop them.
“Blake, you’re living in a dreamworld if you think you and I can just curl up together and nod off like a couple of innocent kids,” she snapped. Frustration was making her even more tense than she had been before night had fallen and surrounded them with its intimate cloak of silence.
“We’re mature adults,” he retorted. “Not a couple of adolescents on the make. I can control my sexual appetites. Can’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Well, then?”
“Oh, just shut up and go to sleep.”
“If that’s the way you want it,” he said. She heard him chuckling softly as he settled himself on the ground. “Sweet dreams, Audrey.”
“Good night.” The words whispered barely louder than a sigh past trembling lips.
Audrey stared at the red glow of the fire and tried to ignore the presence of Blake less than a foot away. With her legs drawn up to her chest, she rested her cheek on her knees.
It had been one hell of a day. She’d learned a lot about herself, thanks to Blake’s prodding and the circumstances that had plunged them into this unexpected camping trip. She had a whole lot more resilience than she’d ever imagined. She was actually capable of being feisty, when it was necessary. What else had Blake called her? Assertive. Determined. She tried all of the words on for size and found they fit more aptly than she’d given herself credit for.
Had she always been that way or was there something special about Blake that had brought it out? Perhaps he’d just made her more aware of her own strengths, put her in situations that required brave responses. Perhaps that inner strength had been there all along, buried under a ton of emotional garbage heaped on her by Derek.
As the fire died out, the damp chill penetrated her clothing. Sleep had not eluded Blake as it was eluding her. He was breathing deeply and evenly, the sleep of a man who had nothing on his conscience. She thought there might be a certain amount of irony in that. Unlike the way she’d lived her life, Blake was a man who did what he wanted with no regrets. Even though he’d admitted that his methods of capturing her today had been less than honest, he was the type of man who felt the admission and his apology put the matter to rest. Since he’d never intended her any real harm, he couldn’t imagine what all the fuss was about. Audrey wished she had a little more of his audacity, but maybe that would come in time, too.
“If I keep hanging out with him, maybe a little of it will rub off,” she murmured, the softly spoken words causing Blake to stir restlessly. She shivered and wished she hadn’t been quite so hasty in turning down his offer to keep her warm.
Enviously, she watched him sleeping soundly beside her. He was stretched out on his back, open and vulnerable. She studied the muscular, warm length of him and finally took a deep breath.
“Why not?”
She inched herself closer, until her hip was next to his. Then with the utmost care not to disturb him, she lay down beside him, her head resting on his outstretched arm. Turning sideways, she nestled against him, relishing the heat emanating from his body.
Within seconds, though, once his warmth had stolen over her, she felt something else stir deep inside. An aching yearning began to build, just as Blake moaned softly and shifted positions, his arms coming around her, one leg dropping heavily across hers to entrap her.
Tension coiled inside her as her body burned with desire. There wasn’t one square inch of her f
lesh—clothed or not—that wasn’t sensitive to his proximity. On fire now from the inside out, Audrey perversely wanted him to wake, to complete this union that some part of her had known was inevitable from the moment they’d met.
But Blake slept on, and eventually, relaxing into his gentle possessive embrace, she did, too.
Eight
Blake awoke suddenly, his body stirring to life with an unsettling, throbbing awareness. The night’s stillness had given way to the spirited chirping of birds greeting the day. Tentative, pink-hued fingers of sun stroked his cheek. But it was the press of Audrey’s warmth against his side that woke him.
Readjusting his position until he could rest more comfortably, he gazed down at the woman curled trustingly next to him, her hand splayed across his chest, the soft smile of a gentle dream on her lips. Lovely, unpredictable Audrey. She was such an intriguing bundle of contradictions—fragility tempered by steel. He was lured by her hidden strengths and wry humor, even as he was taunted by her vulnerability and delightful flashes of temper.
Blake’s experience with women had included an array of personalities, from bold and flashy to domestic, from sleek and sophisticated to serene and gentle. Each type had brought something special into his life, however fleetingly, but no one of them had had the unique combination of traits he’d found in Audrey. None of them had touched his soul and, in the end, he’d remained alone.
Now he felt as though he’d found the one woman who could bring spirit and joy into his life, but she was filled with self-doubts. He had encountered feminine insecurities in the past and found them difficult to handle. They often led to unreasoning jealousy that, in the end, destroyed the relationship. Audrey’s insecurities, though, seemed to be of a different sort. He didn’t know what to make of them, even though her revelations about her upbringing made things clearer.
Still, how did you go about convincing a woman that she was more than capable of holding her own in any battle you were likely to have? He didn’t doubt for a minute that Audrey would always know her own mind and express her opinions vocally, that she would be as assertive as the situation warranted.
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