The Daredevil Tycoon / Hired: Sassy Assistant: The Daredevil Tycoon. Barbara McMahon

getting together for dinner in an hour. We’ll discuss tomorrow’s ride and get an early night. Join us. Main lounge, one hour.”

      “Okay,” she said. Before she could say anything else, he rang off.

      An hour gave her plenty of time to shower and see what she had to wear to dinner. Nothing suitable, she was sure. She’d crammed in clothes every which way when she’d had less than five minutes to dress and pack that morning.

      Entering the lobby a short time later, Amalia saw the rest of the crew assembled near the entry to one of the restaurants. She walked over, relieved to see everyone was dressed casually in clothes more suitable to outdoor activities than a luxury resort restaurant.

      At least she wasn’t odd man out.

      “There will be a table for us in just a few moments,” Maria said, when Amalia joined the group.

      While they waited, Stefano Vicente and his crew came from the elevators. Amalia hadn’t known her boss was staying there, as well.

      “Did we beat their distance?” she asked.

      “Hard to say. Still, it’s close enough to make it exciting—they came down not far from us. This is the nearest place to stay,” Manuel said.

      Paolo excused himself and went to talk to Stefano.

      In a moment Helena left that group and walked to her boss.

      “How are things going?” Rafael asked his PA after she greeted everyone.

      “Fine. I think I would enjoy it more in your balloon. Stefano insists on doing everything, and he’s obsessed with winning,” Helena said.

      Rafael shrugged. “So am I. He won’t, you know.”

      “He thinks Amalia will hold you up.” Helena looked at Amalia. “But it doesn’t seem like you are trailing.”

      Amalia frowned. “Why would I hold Rafael up?”

      Helena glanced at Rafael then said in a soft voice, “Stefano’s counting on your fear of heights to delay you. In fact, he said he was surprised you hadn’t already bailed.”

      Amalia felt a flare of anger at her boss. Was that the reason Stefano had proposed her—not for her lack of experience but her fear of heights? Did he expect her to refuse to fly and force a win by Rafael’s forfeiture?

      A warm hand gently took her arm. Startled, she looked at Rafael.

      “No need to tear his head off. The best revenge is to win and show him he misjudged you.”

      “I’ve worked for him for years and I’m annoyed he’d use me like that,” she admitted.

      “He wants to win.”

      “Are you afraid of heights?” she asked Helena. She wasn’t sure she cared either way, the warmth of Rafael’s hand seemed to infuse her entire body. Her temper cooled and once again she felt the odd tickle of awareness.

      “I jumped at the chance to go when Rafael asked me,” she replied. “It’s turning out all right. As long as I just enjoy the scenery, I’m fine. Maybe before we reach the end I’ll get to do more. Your boss strikes me as a bit of a control freak.”

      “I didn’t jump at the chance,” Amalia murmured.

      “But you haven’t let me down. I won’t forget that, Amalia,” Rafael said softly. It sounded almost like a promise.

      Helena turned back to Rafael and said, “I checked for messages when I got to my room, which, by the way, I’m sharing with one of the chase team members. Gina said Teresa called for you and then asked for me. She seemed miffed neither of us was there to talk to her. She wants you to call her when you get the opportunity.”

      “Duly noted.”

      Helena grinned. “So, no return call tonight, then.”

      Amalia listened, wondering if Teresa now regretted her decision to refuse to go on the weeklong trip with Rafael. She also absorbed the fact that Stefano was having his crew members share quarters while she had a luxury suite all to herself. Should she be sharing with Maria? She knew if that was the way Rafael wanted it, he would have made it that way.

      She was grateful for her room.

      Amalia felt a bit bereft when Rafael released her arm after the maître d’ announced their table was ready. Following them into the dining room, she sat between Manuel and Maria. Paolo rejoined their group and before long meals were ordered. Conversation at the table centered on the race.

      Looking around the restaurant, she wished Jose could see it. They’d never eaten in a place so elegant. Many of those present were dressed up, although of course neither their group or Stefano’s were. What would it be like to come alone with Rafael, dressed to the nines, fascinating him with her scintillating conversation? Just the two of them, maybe in that small alcove that seemed more private than the main dining area.