Her Amazing Boss!: The Daredevil Tycoon. Nikki LoganЧитать онлайн книгу.
“I’m not going to fall out. I’d have to climb up on the side to do so. But you’d feel better if you know how to operate the balloon. Come and I’ll show you.”
“I’m not moving,” she vowed. He was right, it was unlikely anyone would fall out. The high sides were almost chest high for her. Still, freak accidents could happen.
“You’re missing a great sight, Barcelona from the air. No truck or car noises. No pollution. Only the beauty of the city as it wakens against the blue of the Med. You may never have this opportunity again.”
She definitely would not do this again! She was tempted to peek. But the thought of looking down from so high caused a wave of nausea to sweep over her. She dropped her gaze to Rafael’s feet. She could do this as long as she didn’t move. She drew a deep, slow breath.
The basket swayed and she grabbed the edge of the blankets. Looking up, she saw Rafael right over her.
“Get back in the middle, you’ll dump us both out!” she yelled.
“It’ll never happen. Really, come see this view. You’ll regret it forever if you don’t.”
“I can’t.”
“Stretch yourself, you’ll be amazed what you can do if you just try.” He almost lifted her to her feet by his grip on one arm. Once standing, she pressed closer to him, her theory being he’d done this before and was less likely to fall than she was.
“Look.” He stretched out his right hand, his left still holding on to her. “See Vicente’s balloon? It’s lower than ours, he’s following a different air current. Still going pretty much the same direction, but not moving as fast as we are.”
Slowly she moved her gaze across the edge of the basket and looked. She could see her boss’s balloon, not too far distant, but definitely lower. She swallowed hard. How high were they?
“Now, look over there, you see the Serra de Collserola?” he asked, pointing to the high ridge that enclosed Barcelona on the northwest. “Beautiful.”
She jumped a second later when he casually reached up and depressed the lever to the burners. Flame shot up. A few seconds later he glanced at one of the gauges near the burners and released the lever.
Silence once again. Peaceful and amazing.
The sun had risen enough to illuminate the top edge of the ridge. Slowly the light moved down the slopes and toward the city. Amalia watched, moving her gaze slowly down until she saw some of the spires and buildings lighted by the rising sun. Forgetting her fear of heights, she leaned against Rafael’s solid strength and watched mesmerized as the city she’d lived in all her life was wakened with light from the sun. The white buildings began to gleam in the early light. Windows looked as if they were on fire as they reflected the early rays. She could see the grid pattern of the streets and the large yachts and boats in the harbor. It was breathtaking.
She looked around, still feeling as if any movement beyond her eyes would plunge her over the side and several thousand feet to the earth below. But she couldn’t resist. The sea was a dark blue, stretching to the curvature of the earth.
It was hard to tell in which direction they were traveling. In fact, there was no sensation of movement at all except for the gentle swaying of the basket.
“Are we still rising?” she asked.
“We’ve leveled off a bit. I’ll need to heat the air soon to stay with this current.”
“But we’re moving?”
“Sure. When the sun is higher, you can watch our shadow move across the land, judge how fast we’re traveling.”
“How fast?”
“Depends on the air current. We’re just along for the ride.” He let her go and depressed the burner lever again. The roar of the flame startled her. She was afraid to move a fraction. She had her balance, but could she drop to the floor and crawl back to her corner without making the basket tip?
“Relax, Amalia, you won’t fall out.” His voice was warm, right beside her ear.
“Don’t we have to balance the weight or something?” she asked, slowly turning to face him. He was so close she blinked. Granted, the basket wasn’t that large, but he didn’t need to be so close. She felt her nerves tighten with an emotion other than fear.
“The ropes holding the basket to the balloon are evenly spaced. They support the weight. Even if we are both on one side, the basket is not going to tip.”
She nodded, trying to calm her nerves with the rational tone of his voice. Trying to ignore the attraction that flared, and remember she was on this ride under protest.
She could do this. She had to, what choice did she have?
Slowly taking a deep breath, she looked out again. She might as well savor every experience to tell Jose. He’d certainly pepper her with questions the next time he talked to her.
There was no feeling of movement, but the competing balloon seemed to drop away. Amalia knew they had to be rising, but she had nothing to gauge their height. Not as high as an airplane, she knew that. But higher than she’d ever been.
She looked at Rafael. He was studying her.
“Shouldn’t you be watching where we’re going? What if we crash into a plane or something?”
“I hope that won’t happen,” he said easily. “Want a turn with the burners?” He shut them down and the silence again enveloped them.
“It’s weird. One moment I can hardly think because of the noise, then there’s that blissful silence.”
“Combined with the floating sensation, it’s a high, isn’t it?” he added. “That’s why I love it. Silently drifting over the earth, seeing things from a new perspective.”
She shrugged. She was glad the experience wasn’t turning out to be as bad as she’d anticipated. No thanks to the man who had practically forced her out of her home and into this flimsy wicker basket!
“Come.” He reached out his hand. She took it and let him pull her even closer. With his firm grip she felt safe. How odd was that? She didn’t even like the man. He had practically kidnapped her and put her in mortal danger. Yet who else was she going to trust at this moment? She wasn’t sure her boss warranted her trust anymore. How dare he make her a condition of the bet!
Once she stood next to Rafael, she could smell the unique scent that was his. She wanted to close her eyes and savor the tangy aroma. It was totally masculine and had her heart beating faster.
The other problem—staying immune to this man for a week. Now, that she wasn’t sure she was capable of doing.
“I’ll explain,” he said.
She had loved his voice from the first moment she’d heard it. Now she watched as his lips moved forming the sounds that produced speech. She savored how deep and melodious it sounded, the smooth way he pronounced his words, how the resonance gave her goose bumps along her skin. If she closed her eyes, would he continue talking?
“Got it?” he asked.
“No.” She blinked. She’d been enjoying the sound, not paying attention to the explanation.
He lifted her hand and placed it on the grip. The burners themselves were above passengers. No fire danger, at least, or bumping heads by walking into them.
“Now,” he said, letting go.
She pulled and let go immediately when the roar of the fire startled her.
He reached out and grabbed the grip with one hand, pulling her hand back with the other.
“Try again,” he said. There was no censure in his tone, which surprised her. She’d have thought him too impatient to let such a blunder pass without a scathing complaint.
She