“Manuel and Maria both know how to calculate distance and direction. And we have a beacon that I can start that gives off a signal. When they are close enough, they’ll receive that. I haven’t been wrong yet, have I?”

“Not that I know of, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be,” she said, annoyed with him. He looked as fresh and energetic as he had that morning. She would love to sit somewhere and relish being on the earth again. She knew any hint of makeup she’d put on that morning was gone. Her hair had to be a mess. And she’d love to forget about everything and just veg out—preferably away from Rafael Sandoval.

He laughed. “True enough. But better for my image if every time I’m wrong, few people know about it.” He looked around, fists on his hips.

Amalia thought he looked the way a conquistador probably looked when landing in the New World and thinking he’d conquered all he surveyed.

“We can wait in the basket if you like,” he said.

“No, thanks, I’ve spent enough time there today.”

“Then help me with the balloon.”

They stretched it out, then began rolling it toward the basket. Once it was compacted, he reached in the basket for the blankets and a large plastic tarp.

“We cover the balloon, then we sit and wait.”

“Why cover the balloon?”

“To keep it dry. Wet nylon doesn’t inflate very well.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll take a blanket to sit on,” he said when the envelope was covered. He also took the last two sodas.

She handed him a blanket and then put hers down on the ground. Rafael sat opposite her.

“Will we have to spend the night here?” she asked as he tossed her one of the sodas and kept the other.

“Probably. I didn’t see any signs of civilization when looking for this space. I don’t want to spend a lot of time traveling back and forth when we could be airborne.”

“I’m not much for camping,” she said.

“Ever been?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Then how do you know?”

“I like hot and cold running water too much.”

“Look on this as a great adventure.”

“Yeah, that’s what my brother says. Who says I want adventure?”

Rafael laughed.

Amalia swallowed her drink wrong and ended up in a coughing fit. He pounded her on the back until she stopped.

“Thanks, I’m okay now.”

She looked around. The clearing was several acres in size. There were a few scruffy trees here and there, but otherwise it was a rocky flat area on the dry side of the hills they’d been following all day. She was already feeling the hard unevenness of the ground beneath her. How could she sleep on it? How could she sleep alone with Rafael?

Were there wild animals? She looked around, realizing how fast the light was fading.

“It’ll be dark soon,” she said.

“We have a couple of flashlights in the gondola. At least when it’s dark, you can see the stars like never before. Each one is crystal clear.”

“I’d think you’d dislike it even more than I do. Aren’t you missing the fancy restaurants like last night? The luxurious hotel with the fabulous spa tub?”

“You’ve been reading too many newspaper accounts. Sure I enjoy fine things. And I like eating good food. But I also enjoy climbing, hot air ballooning. Versatility is needed for both.”

“So tell me about climbing. How did you get into that?”

“Friends from school and I first went on a trek in France when I was around eighteen. I was hooked. Talk about a challenge—finding my way up the face of a cliff that looked as if it had never been scaled. Reaching the summit and feeling like I was on the rim of the world. You should try it sometime.”

Amalia shook her head in horror. “I can’t imagine much worse—unless it’s hot air ballooning.”

“So your hobbies are needlepoint or knitting, safe and secure?”

“Don’t turn your nose up at those kinds of hobbies. They’re probably fun for many people. But not for me. I like computers.”

“So you don’t take your brother on camping trips?”

“Is that a guy thing? He does plenty outside. He’s going on a science camp this week, with twenty other students. They’ll be camping out and exploring geophysical phenomena. He’ll love it, even if it rains.”

“I do admit to preferring four walls and a roof in the rain,” Rafael said.

He stretched out his single blanket, then lay down.

“Are you going to sleep?” Amalia asked. It was getting darker by the moment. She could already see a few stars in the sky.

“No, just wanting a good view of the sky. Once the crew gets here we’ll have a fire and lights and miss some of the spectacle.”

Rafael confused her. Every time she thought she understood him, he’d say or do something opposite to what she would expect. There was more to him than the playboy image he seemed to relish in Barcelona.

There was something rock solid about him. Even when he pushed for his own way, she knew she could count on him to keep his word and get her home safe.

She looked at the sky. If she sat looking up long enough, she’d get a terrible crick in her neck. Reluctantly she spread her own blanket and lay down. Shifting slightly to find a more comfortable spot she relaxed and enjoyed the starry sky. The darker it became, the more stars appeared. She could see the Milky Way.

“It is spectacular,” she murmured.

“It always puts things into perspective,” he said.

“Like?”

“Like work is not the be all and end all of life. That we are insignificant creatures in the great scheme of things. How many stars can you count?”

“I can’t count them all!” She laughed.

“They say God knows the name of every star.”

“I find that totally amazing.” She was silent for a moment savoring the beauty above her.

“You could have asked for the fifty thousand Euros for yourself,” he said.

“What?” She sat up. “Where did that come from?”

“I was thinking about your scathing comments about the bet. I’m sure you must have imagined what that kind of money could do for you and your brother.”

“I provide just fine for me and my brother. Soon he’ll be on his own and every penny I earn will be mine.”

“A gift, then,” he said.

“No, thank you. That’s not my style.”

He looked at her, silhouetted against the night sky. “So what is your style?”

“To earn my own way,” she said.

He smiled, though she couldn’t see in the dark. So idealistic. Refreshing after the women he usually dated. Then again, maybe the fault lay in his taste in women.…

“After this balloon ride, maybe you’ll feel you earned it. Or at least a bonus from Vicente for going above and beyond the duties of a PA.”

“Are you giving Helena a bonus?” she asked.

“Yes.” No need to tell her the thought had just come to him. Helena made a good salary, but this was certainly above and beyond.

“Money plays a big part of your life,” she said slowly.

Her voice moved as she lay back down.

“It does in everyone’s life,” he replied.

“Not so much in ours, mainly because we don’t have a lot. And we need to save for when Jose is at university. Besides, it mainly buys things. Not memories.”

“Like?”

“Like the afternoons at the beach we used to enjoy with our parents. We’d spend all day playing in the water, picnicking, being together. I miss those times. And holidays, when we celebrated together.”

“You paint an idyllic life. Real life doesn’t follow that.”

“Your parents didn’t do right by you and your brother.”

“So you’re now an expert on my parents?” he asked. The old wound threatened to reopen. He knew she was right, but years of hiding the disappointment he’d felt at being shunted to school and holiday resorts while his parents went their separate ways resurfaced. He would never subject a child to that. Which was why he planned to stay single all his life.

“Money can buy memories,” he argued, just for the hell of it. “Making enough to afford my interests is satisfying.”

“So you try flying, either by plane or balloon, and scuba diving, racing. High-adrenaline sports,” she said. “Sounds like something’s missing.”

“Nothing’s missing. I do well in business and can indulge myself with any sport I want.”

“If you were married, you’d have a family to build memories with. What happens when you’re eighty and can’t do all those sports?”

Rafael laughed. “I doubt I’ll want to if I live to be eighty. And I will have the memories you put such store in.”

“But who would you have to share them with?”

“Who do you have?” he countered.

“Jose for one. And I do hope to marry someday and have a family. Children to love and raise. A husband to grow old with, to share my life and his.”

“I can’t see my parents sitting on a veranda somewhere in thirty years swapping stories about the good old days.”

“I bet my parents would have. With grandchildren around. That’s sad your parents don’t have family memories.”

He sat up, not wanting to continue this topic. “Not sad, just fact. What about people who don’t have a happy life, do you think they want to remember that when they get old?”

She fell silent.

Rafael stood and looked around. It was dark with no ambient light but that from the stars overhead. He could make out the silhouette of the rim of hills behind them. No roads, but plenty of open land for Manuel to drive over. He hoped the GPS locator was functioning.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“A little.” She sat up, drawing the blanket over her shoulders. It was growing cooler.

“We have some snacks left. But dinner will have to wait on the crew.”

“And that could be six hours away,” she murmured.

“No, they’ll be here before long.”

“If not?”

“Then we bunk down here.”

“Just the two of us,” she said softly.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“Should I?”

“Depends on what you consider a problem.”

Amalia’s heart rate sped up. She imagined a lot of scenarios—none of which she’d classify as precisely a problem. Unless she considered being stranded with one of Barcelona’s more infamous bachelors a problem.

“Look on it as a great adventure.”

“I don’t think I’m the adventurous type.”

“Then it’s time you break out of your mold and see what you find,” he said. He sat beside her and nudged her slightly with his shoulder. “Live on the wild side for a while. Explore new things, push yourself. Find out who you really are.”

“And who are you, Rafael?” she asked.

“Someone hoping to go through life experiencing many different facets. Like sailing, soaring, kissing beautiful women.”

The low, sexy tone had her senses on full alert. What would it be like to be kissed by an adventurer?

She was about to find out, she thought, feeling giddy and breathless at the idea.

“Amalia?” he said softly, brushing back her hair from her face, turning toward her.

She saw his head blot the stars then felt his lips brush across hers.

Decision time. Should she scoot away and be outraged, or give in to rampant curiosity and indulge herself as he suggested?

He gathered her closer, blanket and all, and moved past the mere brush of lips for a full-fledged kiss that had her blood pounding through her veins, her head spinning and her own hands reaching out to grasp his jacket and hold on.

The hard ground was forgotten. He shifted slightly, bringing her even closer in his embrace as his tongue teased her lips, dancing with her own when she opened to him. Amalia felt like a top spinning. It was glorious. No wonder women vied to date the man. He set a new standard in kissing.

Too soon he pulled back a bit, his breath fanning her cheeks. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

Sorry! She pushed against that rock-solid chest and scooted back, suddenly feeling every pebble and rock beneath her. Disentangling herself from the blanket, she stood and moved even farther away.

“Try exercising more control next time you feel you can’t resist,” she snapped. She turned, tears of humiliation threatening.

“Hey, Amalia, it was only a kiss,” he said, coming up behind her and putting his hands on her shoulders. “I didn’t mean anything,” he said.

That was the problem. It was the best kiss she’d ever had, and he didn’t mean anything.

He stepped up and leaned his head next to hers. She felt the warmth from his cheek next to hers.

“I’m sorry if you’re upset. I won’t do it again.”

Probably not. He was used to gorgeous sophisticated women, not some overworked PA who had to be forced to go on this race with him.

“I think we should keep this businesslike,” she said stiffly. She really wanted him to turn her into his arms again and say nothing was more important to him than her. She almost laughed at the expression he’d have if she voiced that crazy idea.

“I agree. Friends?”

“I doubt we can ever be friends. Just let it drop,” she said, shrugging out of his hold and stepping away. She dare not go too far, as she had no idea where anything was in the darkness.

Would they end up wrapped in the blankets, sleeping beneath the stars? At least the storms he mentioned hadn’t materialized. That would really be horrid.

The silence grew awkward and she knew she hadn’t handled things well. But she couldn’t risk getting too comfortable with him or she’d make an idiot of herself over the man, and then where would she be? She had her brother to get off to university and her own dreams to pursue.

It was almost thirty minutes later that the first glimpse of the headlights shone through the trees.

“Is that them?” she asked, jumping up and trying to see more than flashes of lights at ground level.

“Probably.” Rafael went to the basket and retrieved the radio. In seconds he was in contact with the crew and turned on both flashlights to show them where they were. In less than twenty minutes the truck arrived, lurching over the rough terrain, illuminating everything with its powerful headlights.

Amalia was so glad they’d arrived. She needed a buffer between her and Rafael.

Camping had never been high on her list of things to do, but with accomplished veterans, it turned out to be fun. The meal was cooked and shared by all. The crew and Rafael checked out the balloon, exchanged the propane tanks and made everything ready for the morning flight.

Then air mattresses were inflated, sleeping bags doled out and in less time than she’d expected, Amalia was warm and sleepy. She watched the sky for a few minutes, then closed her eyes and went to sleep—to dream about Rafael’s amazing kisses.

Rafael lay in his bag, watching the sky, thinking of the earlier kiss. He’d done it as a lark; only, it had backfired. Amalia hadn’t seemed to enjoy it, while he’d enjoyed it far too much. Who would have thought Vicente’s PA could kiss like that? He wanted another taste, another kiss to see if what he’d felt had just been a rebound from Teresa or if there was a special spark there.

Unlikely, he thought sardonically. Amalia just didn’t approve of his lifestyle. And to top it off, she wanted marriage and children and memories.

He was making his own memories. Doing things most men only dreamed about.

He thought about the various things he’d tried over the past few years. Turned out this balloon race was the best of the lot, and it was all because of his reluctant passenger.

Rafael frowned. Amalia was no more special than any of the other women he’d seen over the past decade. She was pretty in a very nonpretentious way. Perhaps lacking the sophistication he was used to made her a novelty? Yet she was genuine. Like the woman his brother had married.

But that would change given half a chance. Amalia could be seduced by diamonds and couture clothing, embassy parties and luxurious cruises. He knew what women liked. It was all well and good to talk about family and memories. He’d like to see her dressed in a beautiful gown, jewels glowing around her neck, hair elaborately done. He could take her to a reception, or maybe a Christmas ball. Show her a different side of Barcelona than she knew.

And then what? Move on again? It was what he did.

They were airborne at first light. Amalia had been avoiding him while they prepared for liftoff. Yet she was friendly with the crew, joking and laughing. It was only with him she became distant. And Rafael knew the others had noticed.

The balloon filled and tugged at the land-tethered gondola.

“Turn us loose,” he said. In seconds the ropes had been released and they began to soar. He kept the burners going full blast to heat the air to the maximum in the shortest time possible, and the balloon rose swiftly.

She sat in the corner, gazing up at the balloon. Without standing, there wasn’t a lot to see.

The other balloon wasn’t in sight. Satisfied he’d made a leap ahead of Vicente, he wanted to keep that lead. The farther ahead he got, the better he would like it.

By midmorning Rafael was tired of the silence. Amalia had dozed for a short time, and when she wakened, he beckoned her over.

She rose and glanced around. He could tell she was easier each day with the height. He felt a moment of regret that he’d forced someone so afraid to come up, but he’d honored the conditions of the bet.

“Take over. I’m getting a drink,” he said.

She nodded and stepped in his place.

“Want something?”

“Sure,” she said. Then she opened the throttle and the jets roared. The balloon rose even higher. Rafael smiled. She was getting used to it in a big way. Looking at a spot on the horizon, he estimated their air speed. They were being pushed by a current at a faster rate than he expected. Since the balloon gave little indication of movement, it was hard to gauge the exact air speed.

He searched for the other balloon. Taking the binoculars, he trained them behind them until he located the other balloon. It was quite a distance behind them.

“We’re going to win this easier than I thought,” he murmured.

“Great, my boss will be a bear in the office if he loses.”

“Prepare yourself.”

He raised the binoculars again and frowned.

“What?” Amalia asked.

He lowered them and looked at her. “Storm clouds on the horizon. That bad weather front they talked about might be coming.”

Amalia held out her hand in silent request for the binoculars. When she lifted them to her eyes and trained them on the distant horizon, she could see clouds. They didn’t look particularly threatening and were right at the edge of the horizon. How long before they’d catch up? Wouldn’t the air current they were on keep them moving ahead of the storms?

She asked Rafael.

“They will to some extent, but it depends on if the storm front is moving faster than this current.”

Rafael contacted the ground crew. They had refilled the propane tanks and were heading in his direction. Rafael gave their GPS coordinates and told them to contact him when they were below him, which Manuel said should be soon.

“Now what?” she asked.

“Now we see where to land to exchange tanks. And if we can outrun the storm,” he said.

CHAPTER SEVEN

AMALIA relinquished the controls and went to stand on the side facing the clouds. Staying an arm’s distance from the side, she watched as the sky gradually grew more and more cloudy, some fluffy white puffs, others long and dark. She could scarcely see Vicente’s balloon, and shortly before lunch, she lost sight of it altogether.

“Are we stopping soon?” she asked.

“No. The temperature is cooling, we can stay up longer. We have propane, we’ll go as far as we can.”

She caught a glimpse of a town. Holding on to the side, she looked at it.

“There’s a town down there.”

“We’ll push on a bit farther.”

“Good grief, don’t put down in the mountains. The chase team would never find us.”

“Sure they would. But that’s not my intent. If we can get another few dozen miles, there is an entire valley that would be perfect to set down in. And there’s a nice-size town at the head of the valley. We could have a hot bath and comfortable bed tonight.”

“That gets my vote,” she said.

Turning, Amalia watched Rafael as he stood opposite her, leaning casually against the side. She no longer feared he’d fall out. In fact, thinking back over the last day or two, she realized she wasn’t nearly as fearful as when they started, unless she looked directly down.

“Now what’s going on in your mind?” he asked.

“Just thinking that maybe, maybe mind you, this isn’t the worst that could happen to me.”

He laughed. “It’s exhilarating.”

“I still can’t look down, but I’ve stopped panicking every time the basket sways a little.”

“We can make a ballooner out of you yet.”

“I doubt that. Tomorrow will be the halfway day. After that, it’s all downhill.”

“Do you regret coming?” he asked.

“Not as much as I did,” she replied.

He nodded. “I knew I could count on you to be honest about it.”

She looked away. She hadn’t been honest about her feelings for that kiss. If he wanted the truth, she’d be hardpressed to comply. Some things were too personal to share.

“Amalia, would you go out with me when we return to Barcelona?”

She turned back at that, stunned he’d ask.

“Where?” was the only thought that sprang to mind.

“Ballet, reception, dinner for two, dancing. Wherever you want.”

For one breathless moment she wanted to say yes. Then she shook her head. “I’m so not your type.”

“And what is my type?”

He had to ask? Lounging comfortably against the side, he personified gorgeous male. His body was trim and muscular, his skin tanned from so much time in the sun. His hair was thick and dark. Her fingers actually itched to brush through it, feel the texture, savor the right to do just that.

“From what I saw of Teresa Valesquez, about the opposite of me.”

“Ah, a new dress, some strappy high heels and a diamond or two and you’d rival Teresa. Actually, your conversation far surpasses hers. She’s more concerned with being seen in all the right places.”

“You don’t believe she cares for you?” she asked, startled at his comment. She knew she didn’t measure up, but she didn’t need him suggesting she get new clothes and jewelry. Which she wouldn’t do, even if she had the money.

“She cares for me because of my money. If I were a cabana boy, she wouldn’t even give me the time of day.”

She blinked, wondering if Rafael had ever worked on the beaches around Barcelona. She’d love to see him in a swim-suit, all glorious tanned skin and sleek muscles.

“There is an even larger gap between me and you. What makes you think I wouldn’t date you for your money?”

“So far you seem singularly unimpressed by it. When faced with fifty thousand Euros, you wanted it to go to charity and you asked for nothing for yourself. Think how that money could help Jose in university.”

“We can manage on our own,” she said. She was not some gold digger. If that was the type of woman he was used to, she felt even more sorry for him. But she was not joining the ranks of women he dated and discarded.

“So I buy you a pretty dress or two, a few baubles, and we go out,” he said.

“No. Thank you for the invitation, but I buy my own clothes and I don’t go out with you.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Why not?” he asked softly.

She shook her head, not wanting to have to say anything more.

“Just no? There has to be a reason,” he pressed.

“Just no.”

He crossed the short distance and stood beside her, lifting her face to his with a finger beneath her chin. “Why?”

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