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a place with a garden and perhaps a view of the sea.”

      He had acres of land, gardens galore and a sweeping view of the Mediterranean Sea. Would she like his house if she saw it? He frowned. He rarely invited women to his place, preferring to keep that part of his life his own. Yet he wished he could see Amalia’s face when she saw the garden and the view. He bet she’d love it. And he’d love to show it to her.

      Would the house appeal to a woman? Probably not as he had it decorated—with sleek modern furnishings. What he’d seen of her apartment was cozy, slightly cluttered and definitely not modern. Yet it had held a certain appeal even for the few moments he’d been there.

      In fact, that was what made Amalia different from the other women he normally associated with. She was more old-fashioned—at least in family views and in decorating skills.

      By the time it grew dark, Rafael had tried numerous times to reach Manuel, to no avail. Not having proper attire for the rain, the visits outside were brief and it took too long to warm up once back in the shelter. They ate more of the snacks before it got too dark to see. He wanted to use the flashlights sparingly to save the batteries. He had faith in his crew, but not knowing where the balloon had set down, it would be difficult to locate them in the weather.

      “We’re going to spend the night here, aren’t we?” she asked.

      “I didn’t see any towns nearby,” he said. The one thing about Amalia, she was easy to be around. She didn’t rail against fate for things going the way they were. She didn’t complain or voice her frustration with the circumstances. He couldn’t imagine spending the night under these circumstances with anyone else.

      “If the rain ends by morning, and the envelope didn’t get wet, we can inflate the balloon ourselves. We have enough propane to get airborne and stay there for a little while. We’ll plan to stop at the next town or field near a road so the others can locate us.”

      “I hope it’s a town. I want to call home before Jose leaves on his school trip. If we don’t make it early tomorrow, I’ll miss him.”

      “He knows we don’t always know where we’ll set down for the night,” Rafael said.

      “He’s the one who should have come on this trip, he would have loved it.” She sighed.

      “But you’re getting used to it,” Rafael commented. She had changed, whether she knew it or not. He enjoyed holding her against him. Her slight frame fit perfectly against his. They had to sit sideways, with the wicker behind him, his feet touching one of the propane tanks. It wouldn’t be the best way to sleep, but they could manage.

      “I am getting used to it, and that’s astonishing. I can’t believe I’m not sick at the mere thought of going so high each day. As long as I don’t look down, I’m really okay.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “But don’t get ideas I want to do this again. If you hadn’t forced me—”

      “Hey, blame your boss. I was just making sure I got a fair shake at this bet.”

      “I plan to. We shall have words,” she promised.

      Rafael grinned. Anything to cause disruption with Stefano Vicente worked for him.

      “You’re not like I thought you’d be,” she said slowly, tilting her head back down and wiggling slightly to get comfortable.

      “And how was that?”

      “Arrogant, self-centered, uncaring, riding over anyone and anything in your way. Not that you don’t act that way sometimes—like forcing me on this trip. But I’ve watched you with the ground crew. You are not like that with them. You don’t brag all the time or put on airs. Or boss people around. You treat them with respect. They know their jobs and you let them do it.”

      Rafael laughed aloud at that. “They’d put me in my place in a heartbeat if I tried to tell them what to do. They’re my friends, Amalia. Not close, but we all share a mutual interest in ballooning. Manuel and Julio have taken the balloon up when I’m not around. I trust them implicitly.”

      Amalia nodded as if a question had been answered.

      “Put on airs?” he said, amusement dancing in his eyes.

      “Stefano does all the time, like he’s king of the world or something. He really likes the attention, or adulation.”

      “Don’t compare me to Vicente. He and I are totally different.”

      “I know. But on the surface, initially, you two seem a lot alike. Except—”

      He waited, wondering what she would say next. She was very open, letting her emotions show every time—whether she was happy, sad or angry, there was no doubt. A person knew exactly what she was feeling just by looking at her.

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