LITMIR.BIZ

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patterns to find the level that offers the best speed and in a direction I wish to go. Auto racing is fun, but once I’ve mastered a track, it’s just a question of speed.”

      “But in this, don’t you just go where the air blows? There’s no control.”

      “There is. There are different air currents at different levels, light nuances if you like. Finding the right levels is what makes it challenging. Balloons are maneuverable to a certain extent if you know where the air is blowing.”

      “And, of course, the biggest challenge is winning,” she said.

      “There is that,” he replied. When he shut down the burners, he picked up the radio mike and called the chase crew. They had the balloon in sight, Manuel reported. They were almost directly beneath them but the road veered in the opposite direction soon according to their map, so they might have to find an alternate route. If it looked as if Rafael would drift out of range, they’d let him know.

      Amalia looked over the side to see if she could find the chase vehicle and felt a wave of nausea overtake her. She closed her eyes and sank to her knees. Heart pounding, she thought she would be sick. Slowly drawing in deep breaths, she tried to quell the sensation. No more of that. She’d had a false sense of security, but one look at how far down the ground was and she felt scared to death.

      Taking a couple more deep breaths helped, then she scooted over to the corner with the blankets and sat on them again. She hated this feeling. And she hated that she acted like this in front of Rafael Sandoval. He feared nothing. How silly she must seem.

      Rafael finished talking and then took a bottle of water from one of the storage pouches. “Want something?” he asked.

      Amalia shook her head. If he hadn’t burst into her apartment and forced her on this stupid trip, she’d be having a nice breakfast with Jose instead of being terrified out of her wits, cold, and uncomfortable sitting on the floor of a flimsy basket dangling from a balloon by only a few thin ropes. What if one broke?

      She glared at Rafael, wondering how anyone found this fun. He was clearly enjoying himself. His dark hair was tousled, unlike the sleek look when he was at work. He had unzipped his jacket and it revealed a tight black T-shirt beneath, lovingly sculpting his muscular chest. Tantalized, she stared, wondering what he’d look like wearing only a bathing suit, or nothing at all.

      Shocked at her thoughts, she looked away, but not far in the small basket. And if she looked up, it would be to see Rafael or the balloon.

      Endless minutes passed as slowly as any Amalia had lived through. For the most part Rafael ignored her. She didn’t care; she wasn’t out to be his friend. She just wanted to get on the ground and never leave it again. She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs. She was getting used to the cool air, feeling it warm as the sun rose higher.

      When Rafael switched the valve on the propane tanks, she watched. There were six large tanks taking up a lot of room in the basket. How far would they get on those tanks? She surmised the chase team had extras to install when they landed. Could she hitch a ride back with them? Only if she could convince Rafael that she couldn’t go on. Or maybe it was Stefano she had to convince. She would ask her boss to let Rafael find someone else to continue the race. She wanted to go home.

      “What happens when we run out of gas?” she asked. There would be no midair refueling.

      “We’ll put down. When we reach halfway on the last tank, we’ll start looking for a landing site. I don’t want to run totally out of propane, it’s what keeps us maneuverable.”

      “Up and down, maybe, but not in any other direction.”

      “That’s enough to get us where we want. The closer to earth, the more we’ll rely on reading the wind from the plants and trees on the ground.”

      Rafe looked at Amalia and almost felt sorry for her. She was not having the time of her life. Too bad her boss had made her a part of the bet. Or too bad Teresa got greedy and wanted more than the good times they’d enjoyed together. Her ultimatum had been unexpected. He thought she enjoyed what they had as much as he did. But the lure of riches and a lasting place in Barcelona society proved too much. Demanding he commit to more than he wanted had been the last straw. She’d left yesterday in a huff and he didn’t expect to see her again anytime soon. He certainly wasn’t going to ask her to marry him.

      He himself didn’t hold much stock in marriage—not with his own parents as examples. Granted, his father and grandfather had made a lot of money for the family. He was doing as well with his own company. But he wasn’t some royal who had to ensure continuation of the family. He had a brother who was married and already had two children. He and his wife were talking about a third. Those grandchildren would satisfy any errant grandparent genes his parents might discover at some future date. He was content to do what he wanted, when he wanted—without some wife in the background.

      Teresa had seemed to enjoy the ballooning at the festival. At least she hadn’t huddled in a corner, looking white and scared. How could anyone not love the freedom rising above the earth brought? He flew airplanes, with a different feeling. This was quiet, peaceful and beautiful. Slow and leisurely. The views were amazing. The sense of tranquility an unexpected bonus.

      They were drifting over the countryside north and a bit west of Barcelona. The winds from the Med would continue in this direction for another month before shifting. He enjoyed watching the mountainous terrain, with the tree-covered valleys and canyons. Here and there a road wound through the open land. A reservoir sparkled in the sunshine. A small village opened in another valley. He studied the earth as if it was a living map. He knew the chase car would have a hard time following if the balloon continued in the mountainous terrain. Could he get over this range before having to set down?

      He carried more fuel than usual, but he was not going to risk the safety of the balloon or his passenger by pushing to the extreme limit. He was determined to win the bet, but not if it put Amalia in real danger.

      If Manuel or Maria had been his crew, they’d have plenty to talk about. The silence when the burners were off was beginning to wear on his nerves. Amalia could at least talk to him while sitting where she was with her eyes closed!

      “How old is your brother?” he asked at the next quiet time.

      “He’ll be eighteen soon.”

      “So, still in school? How is it he lives with you? Are your parents divorced?”

      “No, they died.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      She shrugged. “It was nine years ago. Jose was only eight when they died.”

      “You couldn’t have been that much older yourself.”

      She flashed him a look. “I was nineteen. I had just started university.”

      “So you had to care for him—there were no other relatives to help?”

      She shook her head.

      “Future plans?”

      She leaned back against the side of the basket to look up at him. “He’s going to university,” she said with pride. “He plans to study physics. I think that’s why he was so interested in the how-to of flying this thing. He should be here, not me. He’d love it.”

      “I can see Stefano’s rationale in having you partner me. If he knew me better, he’d know I’ll put up with almost anything to win. I’m sorry you are not enjoying the ride. But blame him, not me,” Rafael returned.

      “Does that mean Teresa was a big help?” She was annoyed that even that society woman had outperformed her. At least Amalia felt she’d dressed more appropriately.

      “Different situation, but she helped more than you’re doing.”

      “So what do you need me for? You know how to fly this thing. I’d only be in the way.”

      “You could talk to me to make the time go faster.”

      “You

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