mesmerizing, fascinating. But if ever he caught her staring at him, she would be mortified.
“You’re on. And I’ll delight in taking your check,” Stefano replied with an arrogance equal to Rafael’s. Amalia shifted her gaze to her boss. In his late fifties, he was always looking for new challenges to prove to the world he was still in top form. What was it about men that they had to constantly be in competition with each other?
“You’re mistaken, it’s I who will delight in taking yours,” Rafael retorted. Mid thirties, and gorgeous to boot, Rafael Sandoval had risen in the ranks of important men in Barcelona with meteoric speed, which was why she’d seen him numerous times over the last three years. The only men her boss dealt with were the city’s high rollers. She would also bet her last Euro that Rafael had never paid enough attention to her to recognize her on the street. A quick glance, eyes trailing over her trim figure, and then he’d move on.
Stefano picked up a cup of the hot coffee and poured cream in it, stirring gently. When the small ritual was complete, he looked at Rafael.
“You have only been ballooning a couple of years. You’re a fool to think you can outrace me. I’ve been doing it for more than a decade.”
“I’m a quick learner,” Rafael said.
His easy grin captivated Amalia’s attention. What would it be like to have him smile at her that way?
“Or is that your way of trying to get out of the wager we just made?” Rafael taunted.
“I’m not trying to get out of anything,” Stefano protested. “It’ll be easy money.”
“As will the deal we’re about to sign. You are signing, are you not?”
Stefano looked at the contract that lay on the low table in front of him. “Should I have my attorneys review it once more?”
“They’ve had it for a week. Nothing’s changed.”
“So you say.”
Rafael’s easy manner dropped in a heartbeat. He narrowed his eyes as he studied Stefano. He said slowly, “So I do say. Do you doubt my word?” The silky tone of his voice belied the anger that showed in the clenched jaw, the flashing dark eyes. He would not be an adversary Amalia would want.
Stefano shrugged and sipped his coffee. After a swallow that had Amalia wondering if he was playing with fire to delay his answer, he deliberately put the cup back on the saucer.
“I do not doubt your word. It’s not a small deal that can be brushed away if it fails,” Stefano explained.
“It will not fail,” Rafael replied.
Stefano stared at Rafael for a long moment, then nodded. He took his pen and signed both sets of papers with a flourish.
Rafael wasn’t quick to relax. Amalia almost held her breath as the drama played out before her. Both men had forgotten she was in the room. She dare not move for worry of drawing their attention. She wished she could just ease out the door and be gone.
Tossing his pen on the table, Stefano leaned back in his chair. “How about we make the challenge a bit more interesting,” he said.
“By?” Rafael asked, calmly reaching for the pen to sign his own name to the contracts.
“We’ll limit people on board to ourselves and one guest—a nonballooner—chosen by the opposition. I choose who rides with you, you choose for me. We each have a man on the chase team to keep the records in conjunction with the chase team. We compete in the daily events at the festival and then begin our long jump.”
Rafael considered the suggestion for a moment, then with an obvious change in demeanor, relaxed, leaned back and smiled. “That works for me. You’ll be so far behind by the fourth day of the festival you’ll concede without the long jump.”
Stefano looked at Amalia. “What do you think?”
She glanced at her boss’s longtime rival and regretfully shook her head. Stefano wasn’t one to concede defeat in anything. “It’ll never happen.”
“Spoken like a true PA, loyal to the end,” Stefano said with a grin. “You’re my choice.”
Amalia stared at him in shock. “I know nothing about hot air balloons!” Only that they looked lovely when quietly sailing by, far overhead. And that it made her sick to even think about being so high above the ground.
“The purpose of the bet is to pit Rafael’s skill, such as it may be, against mine. By each having a novice, we’ll equalize the competition. One on one, so to speak,” Stefano said.
“The Barcelona Balloon Festival will be four days of races and events. For us after day four we make a long jump and see who can get the farthest in a week. Are you up to that?” Rafael asked her.
She looked at him, feeling the full force of those dark eyes as he regarded her. She shivered. Spend eleven days with him in the confines of those little baskets that dangled beneath the balloons? Not likely.
“No. I can’t do that. Pick someone else,” she said to her boss. She knew nothing about the sport, but she knew she feared heights. To spend days in the air was more than she could deal with. Not to mention spending that time with Rafael Sandoval.
The man was beyond gorgeous—tall and masculine, his dark hair shone beneath the artificial light. At thirty-four he had no gray marring the rich mahogany color. His dark eyes mirrored his emotions—when he wanted them to. Moving from amusement to anger in a split second, he fascinated her when she was around him—which wasn’t often, thank goodness. He drew her involuntary interest like a flame drew a moth. And she would expect the same results if she let herself be drawn in—instant annihilation.
He was one of the best-looking men she’d ever seen, everyone thought so. Especially the society photographers who loved to have him on their pages—usually escorting a beautiful woman to some high-society event. Of course they also captured him racing his yacht last summer and when he won the single-engine airplane race from Cadiz to Barcelona two years ago. He participated in a wide and wild range of sports. She had seen the spreads in the Sunday newspapers and read with fascinated interest, since she could claim a brief acquaintance with him because of his dealings with her boss.
But she had no desire to spend even an hour in his company. He was far too dynamic and flamboyant to have anything in common with her. He’d find her boring and predictable and probably amusing.
With all the adulation he received, he was undoubtedly self-centered and self-focused. Did he ever approach life like a normal person—with worries and concerns? Probably not. Having the Sandoval fortune behind him didn’t hurt, either.
“Yes, Vicente, pick someone else,” Rafael agreed, turning away from Amalia.
“Like the woman you’re dating now?” Stefano asked sardonically. “Maybe I should. You’d lose track of even the basics with the charm Teresa offers and I’d win easily. But I’d rather have a challenge.”
“Teresa would dislike the early hours and the discomfort when it’s cold. How do I know a person of your choice wouldn’t sabotage the race?”
“I would never do such a thing!”
