Feeling rebuffed, Amalia lapsed into silence. She would go bonkers if something didn’t liven up the day. Maybe she could call Maria on the radio and have a decent conversation. But not a private one, she knew. And she didn’t quite see Rafael meekly allowing her to monopolize the airways.
In fact, she couldn’t envision Rafael ever being meek.
“I had my parents until I was in university. Their death was unexpected, but we had a strong family bond until that moment,” she said. Maybe if she started the conversation, he’d open up.
“Lucky you.”
He stooped down beside her. Amalia glanced at him. “Shouldn’t you be watching—where we’re going or how close to the ground we’re getting?”
“We’re going where the wind takes us. We’re high enough not to worry about obstacles, and when you think we need to rise some more, you can handle the burners.”
She scooted a bit to the left, not wanting to be so close to him. It was uncomfortable that her body seemed to think Rafael was the greatest thing since sliced bread while she knew intellectually that he was far beyond her league. She was no comparison to the lovely Teresa Valesquez for instance. And she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to be. The idea of being escorted around for a few weeks or months and then left behind when he moved to another woman was too uncomfortable to imagine.
Amalia waited a moment, then stood, keeping as close to the center of the basket as she could. They were quite high. Still, a check of the gauge showed the interior air had cooled and she daringly reached up and turned on the burners for a half-dozen seconds.
Rafael watched her but said nothing.
She felt quite competent!
They talked through the morning. Amalia couldn’t help jumping up more frequently than Rafael did to check their height from the earth. And scan around for anything that could impede their trip. The other balloon seemed lower and was veering in a different direction. One time she ventured to look straight down. Her heart caught in her throat and she felt an impending urge to keep moving over the edge of the basket and fall to earth. She dropped to the floor and tried to catch her breath.
“You okay?”
“I looked down,” she said, her eyes tightly closed. She was not going to fall out of this balloon. Patiently she waited for the waves of nausea to pass. She would not look down, she’d be okay if she didn’t look straight down.
Rafael grasped her shoulder with one hand. “Amalia, you’re perfectly safe here. I would never let you come to harm.” His hand rubbed her gently. She opened her eyes. He was right smack in front of her. Close enough to give comfort and a feeling of security.
Close enough to kiss. The thought popped into her mind and she almost groaned with the temptation. His dark eyes watched her carefully, trying to calm her nervousness.
The fear of falling faded and another emotion took charge. One of tempting the attraction she felt to push the boundaries and see if Rafael had any interest in her. It wouldn’t be the same as in Barcelona. No press was hounding them. They were alone for hours at a time. She could let down her guard a little and see what happened.
Which would be totally stupid. Sanity regained the upper hand.
“I thought you were doing better,” he said.
“I was, then I looked straight down.”
“So don’t do that.”
She nodded. “You’d think I’d remember that.”
“Come on, have a drink and take the burner, take your mind off your phobia.”
“Heights don’t bother you?”
“No.”
“Is it true you scaled Mont Blanc a few summers ago?” she asked, reluctantly standing back in the center, hoping she could concentrate on other things besides the huge amount of empty space between her and the earth.
“I did.”
She had read that recently in one of the reports on the Internet. “Wasn’t that a bit scary?”
“I’d have called it exhilarating.”
“Dangerous, rather. You could have fallen and been killed.”
“Danger gave it an extra fillip of excitement. I never thought about dying on the mountain.”
“But it could happen.”
“Of course it could. But I could also be killed by a truck crossing a street in Barcelona,” he replied, leaning casually against the side of the basket.
“I guess. But to deliberately put yourself in danger, that’s just weird.”
He laughed. Her heart skipped a beat.
“I like some excitement in life. No crime in that.”
“Reckless,” she commented.
He shrugged, his eyes dancing in amusement. “Maybe. But it’s my life to do with as I will.”
“Since you have no family to worry about.”
“Families are overrated.” The amusement vanished in an instant.
She blinked. “If I hadn’t had my brother when my parents died, I don’t know what I’d have done. We don’t have any other family, just long-term family friends. Which in a way could be considered an extended family. You’re lucky, you still have both your parents and your brother.”
He took another swallow from his can, then studied it a moment before looking at Amalia.
“You were stuck raising a boy when your parents died. Where’s the luck in that? You’re still young. You should be out having fun. Doing a job you love instead of working for Vicente.”
“How do you know I don’t like that job?”
“You said you’d change it if you could.”
“I love my brother. I told you, if not for him, I’d be alone in the world. Though I do hope to marry someday.”
“Ah, the great panacea for life.”
“What do you mean by that?” she asked curiously.
He crushed the empty soda can and put it into the small trash bag. Looking around, he made sure things were going according to plan and then looked back at Amalia. She looked around, trying to see what he did. Should they go up some more? She opened the throttle and the jets roared. The balloon rose.
He watched her, making her feel funny. When she felt the balloon move, she realized they’d risen into another current. The basket actually swayed a moment, and she fought to keep her balance. Fear flashed. She took a deep breath, reassured by Rafael’s casual pose. Once they stabilized, she grinned. She’d held her ground. Quite an accomplishment for her.
“Don’t you believe in marriage?” she asked then.
“It seems to be all right for some, but not all. Look at my parents—they married in the heat of passion when young. Once the passion faded, they didn’t even like each other much. Too bad they didn’t think of that before having two children.”
“Yet you wouldn’t be here if they had,” she murmured.
“Would the world be worse off because of that?” he asked.
She was shocked. It was not something she had ever considered—whether the world was better off because she lived.
“Maybe not, but you have the opportunity to do good.”
“Oh, oh, Miss Crusader. Like what?”
“If nothing else, you’ll donate a lot of money to a children’s charity. And I know your company gives to various organizations in Barcelona,”