Can't Say No

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.