The Bronzed Hawk
“You mean you’re trying to stop your heart from beating?” she asked, her eyes widening in surprise.
“Only temporarily. It will probably take years for me to reach anywhere near the competence of the monks. A master can totally cease his heartbeat for more than thirty minutes.”
“That’s wonderful,” Kelly said faintly. “I don’t quite see why you would want to stop your heart from beating, but I’m sure you’ll succeed if you persevere.”
O’Brien smiled, his white teeth flashing brilliantly in his dark face. “It’s the challenge, love. It’s a key to be found and a puzzle to be solved.” He pushed her out the door with a gentle swat on her derriere. “Nine o’clock,” he reminded her, then shut the door firmly in her face.
TWO
OH, LORD, WHY did things like this always happen to her? Kelly wondered gloomily, as she watched Simon Renwick and Paul Lautner square off. She had always known that Simon was a bit on the macho side, but who would have believed that slight, bespectacled Paul would display this ferocity?
“Look, it’s all very simple,” Kelly said soothingly, as she stepped between the two men. “I just got a little confused on my appointments and made two dates for the same night. I’m sorry that it happened, but there’s not much I can do about it, and—”
“No one’s blaming you for the mix-up, doll,” Simon growled, his eyes on Paul’s angry face. “You just leave it to us to sort it out. Why don’t you get your jacket and meet me downstairs in the foyer?”
Doll. If there was one endearment she hated, it was that one, Kelly thought. Why had she accepted the date with Simon, anyway? His athletic, blond good looks now appeared a bit too obvious and wholesome and his charm much too facile and slick.
“That’s a good idea, Kelly,” Paul said, his thin, intelligent face flushed with rage. “I’ll join you in a minute.” The entire mix-up was really more his fault than Simon’s, Kelly thought disgustedly. If he hadn’t looked so hungry and generally uncared for, she would never have invited him to her apartment for a home-cooked meal when he’d dropped into the office the previous week between assignments. Paul was a well-known journalist, but he usually looked as rumpled as an unmade bed, and he had the soulful eyes of a hungry spaniel.
Kelly shook her head. There was really no use trying to shift the blame when she knew this awkwardness was the result of her own blasted absentmindedness. Simon hadn’t been in his office in the afternoon, and she had been so busy making arrangements that she had forgotten to call him at home to cancel the date. And she had completely forgotten about the date with Paul. They had arrived simultaneously at her front door five minutes ago. Not only had she not been able to get a word in edgewise to explain that she couldn’t go out with either one of them that night, but they had become so antagonistic that she was afraid they might come to blows at any moment.
“Look, there’s something that I’ve got to explain to both of you,” Kelly said desperately.
“I—”
“You’d best stay out of this, doll,” Simon said, placing his hands on her slender waist and shifting her to one side. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about a thing.”
She could have slapped his smug, good-looking face. Pretty little head, indeed!
“If you’d listen to what I have to say,” she said angrily, “you’d see just how ridiculous you’re both acting.”
They both stared at her in surprise mixed with resentment. She could almost feel the shift of antagonism from each other toward her. Well, why not? She certainly deserved it, and it was far better that they be angry with her than attempt to mutilate each other.
“You both have a perfect right to be irritated with me,” she said earnestly. “And I hope you’ll believe—” Her abject apology was interrupted by the strident buzz of the doorbell, and she sighed in profound exasperation. She didn’t even have to glance at the clock to guess who was at the door. All she needed was another domineering man on the scene!
And Nick O’Brien looked a thousand times more dangerous than the other two men put together, she thought as she opened the door. He was dressed in black; tight black jeans, long-sleeved black sport shirt, and black suede desert boots. He had all the sleek, dangerous litheness of a panther. Well, she was in the mood to let the intimidating Mr. O’Brien do his stuff.
“Hello, Nick,” she said breezily, stepping aside to let him enter. “I’m not quite ready.” She strolled jauntily past Paul and Simon, who had turned distinctly menacing looks on the new arrival. “Entertain yourselves, won’t you?”
She closed the bedroom door behind her and leaned on it for an instant, her head cocked to listen for any outbreak of actual violence. She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard only the low murmur of voices. She felt a twinge of guilt as she hurried into the bathroom to tidy her hair and grab her toothbrush and face cream from the vanity shelf. It was not exactly fair of her to leave O’Brien in this tricky spot, but she’d had more than enough of coping with unreasonable males for one evening. Besides, he had offered to rid her of Renwick’s presence if he was still there when he arrived. As a matter of fact, it had been more of a threat than an offer, she thought, grinning impishly. He had said that he liked challenges. She’d merely provided him with a little more than he’d bargained for.
She was striding back to the bedroom when she halted abruptly. Her ring! She turned and hurried back into the bathroom and retrieved the dainty jade and gold ring from the plastic vanity tray on which she had placed it before taking her shower. Sighing in relief, she slid it on her finger. It would have been a minor disaster if she’d forgotten her lucky ring on this particular jaunt. She had an idea that a woman would need all the luck she could get on a hot air balloon trip with a man like Nick O’Brien.
It took only five minutes to finish packing her zippered khaki duffel bag. She carefully put her Leica camera into the bag along with several rolls of film. She had changed into olive green denim jeans and matching long-sleeved shirt before Paul and Simon had arrived, and it took only another moment to change into her dark green canvas shoes and grab up her white leather jacket.
At the bedroom door she stopped for a moment and listened anxiously for any sounds of turbulence from the living room. It was almost ominously quiet, and her brow creased in a perplexed frown. She flipped off the bedroom light, then peered out cautiously into the living room. It was deserted.
“I just checked to make sure all your appliances were turned off,” O’Brien said briskly, as he strolled out of the kitchen. “Do you have any regular deliveries? Milk? Newspapers?”
Kelly shook her head. “No. And my next-door neighbor will collect my mail while I’m gone.” She looked warily around the apartment. Where the devil were Paul and Simon?
“Good,” O’Brien said tersely, taking her duffel bag and propelling her toward the front door. “Let’s get out of here.” He flipped off the living room light, closed the door, and waited while she locked it. “We’ll take the company jet as far as Brownsville,” he said casually, as he crossed the hall and pressed the button for the elevator. “I have the pilot standing by at the airport.”
“How did you get rid of them?” Kelly burst out, unable to contain herself any longer, her jade eyes wide with curiosity.
“Your two belligerent lovers? Well, I didn’t throw them out the window, if that’s what you’re worried about.” His vivid blue eyes were distinctly cool as they regarded her. “That’s really all you’re entitled to know, Goldilocks. You opted out of the situation, remember?”
Kelly looked away guiltily. “Well, you did offer your services,” she reminded him. The doors of the elevator slid open, and they quickly entered, but she was not prepared for the overwhelming intimacy she felt when the doors slid shut enclosing her in the narrow space with him. Nick stood looking down at her, his face oddly hard and stern. He was so close that she could see the pulse beat in the hollow of his throat and smell the warm, clean scent of soap and a vaguely woodsy fragr
ance that she thought must be his shaving lotion.
“And you took advantage of them,” he said slowly. His hand reached out to stroke the silky curve of her cheek, and she inhaled sharply at the almost electric shock she’d received from that casual touch. “But I never said that the offer was without strings. You owe me, Kelly, and I always collect.”
“Not very gallant,” she said, laughing shakily and moistening her lips nervously. “I would have taken care of the matter myself if I’d known you’d get so uptight about it.”
“I don’t like being used, and I detest being set up,” he said curtly, and at her shocked protest, his eyes zeroed in on her with the cutting force of a laser ray. “Don’t even try to deny it, Kelly. You received a little too much pleasure out of turning me loose on your ardent admirers. You wanted to see how I’d react to the sight of you surrounded by your lovers. Did it excite you to know that you’d aroused the caveman in all of us, Kelly?”
“You’re crazy. I only wanted you to get them to leave so that I could get on with my job.” She could feel the tears brimming in her eyes. Why did it hurt so much to realize that he thought of her as some kind of unfeeling vamp? The man meant absolutely nothing to her.
O’Brien studied her tear-bright eyes and pale, taut face for a long moment before his hand resumed its leisurely stroking motion. “Poor baby,” he said gently. “I don’t think you even realized it yourself. Can’t you see that you wanted to provoke a response from me even if it was a violent one? I can’t let you keep doing that, Kelly. I’ve never had the coolest temperament anyway, and you seem to be able to stir me up without trying. Prod me too far, and I won’t care if I hurt you or not.”
Kelly shook her head, her jade eyes clouded with bewilderment. “You’re wrong, Nick. I wouldn’t do anything like that.” She couldn’t be that sort of sensation seeker, could she? She had a fleeting memory of that surge of impish triumph she’d felt when she had left Nick in that room with those two angry men, and she felt suddenly sick.
“You won’t be doing it anymore,” O’Brien said quietly. “Because we’re going to be closer than Siamese twins, Goldilocks, and I know you better than you do yourself. There aren’t going to be any more no-win situations for you, Kelly.” The elevator doors slid silently open, and Nick took her arm and propelled her firmly through the lobby toward the glass entrance doors. “And if you bring me face-to-face with any other of your ex-lovers, I’ll probably murder them,” he said grimly.
————
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Kelly shouted over the roar of the burners.
O’Brien looked up from his intent scanning of the altimeter to give her a smile. “Just relax and enjoy,” he shouted back. “I have to keep an eye on these burners for a bit. If we climb too rapidly, the air resistance could cause the balloon to split.”
“What a pleasant thought,” Kelly replied sarcastically, moving to the side of the wicker gondola to peer down at the Rio Grande valley far below. It looked just like a painting by Grandma Moses from this height, she mused, all patchwork green and brown. Her gaze moved up anxiously to the brilliant scarlet balloon blossoming above her like an enormous mushroom. Propelled by the hot air generated by the burners, the balloon was soaring like a toy released by a child’s careless hand.
But there had been nothing careless about their ascension. It had taken six men to restrain and hold the billowing chute open after the burners had been lit until it was time to heave the gondola into the air.
The air was growing rapidly cooler, and Kelly slipped on her jacket and zippered it before reaching into her duffel bag for her camera. For the next five minutes she occupied herself with shooting the interior of their six-foot-square gondola and then, with considerably more interest, O’Brien’s dark, intent face and taut, alert form. Against the stunning blue backdrop of the sky, he appeared even more aggressively masculine.
O’Brien looked up briefly, and raised an eyebrow, but her snapping shutter received no further attention. It was only when he noticed her seated on the rim of the gondola with only one arm around the metal strut for balance that he protested. And it was a silent protest; he gave her a ferocious, menacing frown and gestured abruptly with one hand.
After grimacing at him, Kelly reluctantly climbed down and leaned against the side of the basket, where she continued to shoot pictures. She was startled out of her absorption with her task by the sudden absence of any sound. O’Brien had turned off the burners.
“We’ve reached fifteen thousand feet,” he explained, as he reached for his black flight jacket and pulled it on. “We’ll only need to use the burners occasionally from now on. Our optimum altitude is seventeen thousand, and the wind will carry us the remaining two thousand feet.”
“Wind?” Kelly asked doubtfully. The balloon was still in motion, but she felt a curiously weightless, drifting sensation. “Are you sure there is one?”
O’Brien smiled. “Quite a strong one, as a matter of fact,” he assured her. “You don’t notice it because the winds are so silent at this altitude.”
“Is that it?” Kelly asked, looking out the gondola at the terrain far below. “I suppose you’re right. It’s unbelievably quiet up here. I’ve never known such a completely peaceful atmosphere.” She looked up at the brilliant scarlet chute above them. “It’s enormous, isn’t it?” she asked eagerly, “Are all hot air balloons this size?”
“No, this one isn’t all that big. It’s slightly smaller than average,” O’Brien replied, leaning against one of the metal struts and watching her glowing face with evident enjoyment. “It’s about sixty-six thousand cubic feet. They run as large as eighty-seven thousand cubic feet. If I’d known I was going to have a passenger, I’d have arranged for more roomy accommodations.”
“To tell you the truth, I’m finding our little nest quite cozy,” Kelly said flippantly over her shoulder. “Do you usually fly this thing solo?”
“Well, I meant to tell you about that,” he said, his blue eyes dancing with mischief. “Actually, I’ve only been up in a hot air balloon once before and then only for about a three-hour trip.”
“I beg your pardon,” Kelly said blankly, turning slowly to face him. She couldn’t have heard him correctly. Even Nick O’Brien wouldn’t have attempted anything so outrageous. “Would you mind repeating that?”
O’Brien nodded. “This is the first time I’ve taken a balloon up solo,” he repeated cheerfully. “I felt I should have some sort of instruction, so I hired an experienced balloonist to show me the ropes the first time, of course.”
“Of course,” Kelly echoed faintly, gazing into his face, which was alight with mischief. “You’re putting me on, aren’t you?”
He shook his dark head decisively. “Nope,” he said. “I would have told you before, but you seemed so eager to come along that I hated to dampen your enthusiasm. How are you enjoying your first balloon ride, Goldilocks?”
“Very much, thank you,” she said dazedly. Then, incredibly, she began to chuckle, and her chuckle quickly escalated into uproarious laughter. Holding her sides, she sank to the floor of the gondola and leaned against the wicker wall.
“You’re not hysterical, are you?” O’Brien asked warily, his gaze narrowing on her brimming eyes and flushed face. “I’ve got to warn you that a six-foot gondola is no place for a hysterical woman. I just might have to toss you overboard.”
“You’d probably do it, too.” She was having difficulty speaking coherently through the helpless giggles that were still shaking her. “Add you accused me of involving myself in no-win situations! I’m now floating some seventeen thousand feet above the ground with a totally inexperienced pilot who is using an equally untested fuel to propel us to sunny Acapulco in a gaudy scarlet hot air balloon.” She shook her head, still chuckling. “Can you blame me for losing my cool?”
“My balloon is not gaudy,” he defended. “And you didn’t lose your cool, sweetheart. You laughed.” He shook his head wonderingly. “An
y other woman would have been screaming hysterically or in an old-fashioned Victorian swoon right now. Do you know how long I’ve looked for a woman like you?”
Kelly’s green eyes were dancing as they met his across the expanse of the basket. “I hope you don’t set up tests like these too frequently, Nick,” she said dryly. “The next woman you decide to take ballooning may not be as amused.”
He smiled slowly with a warm intimacy that caused Kelly’s breath to catch oddly in her chest. “But why should I take another woman with me, love?” he asked gently. “I’ll never find another Kelly McKenna to laugh with me.”
Kelly found she couldn’t answer; she was suddenly breathlessly shy. It seemed that the total silence around them was enfolding the two of them in their own intimate world and Kelly could almost hear the throbbing of her heart. She tore her eyes from O’Brien’s face and fixed her gaze desperately on the burners beside him. “Would it be too much to ask if you know how to get this thing back down on the ground?” she asked.
O’Brien smiled. He was looking at her with a glowing tenderness that made her feel bewildered. “Of course,” he said simply. “I’d never have taken you along if I hadn’t been entirely confident that I could take care of you.” His lips curved in a wry smile. “I can’t give you similar assurance about the fuel formula, but the premise the inventor used is sound.”
“That’s comforting to know,” Kelly said, making a face. “Why did it have to be tested in a hot air balloon?”
His answering grin was impish. “Why not?” He shrugged. “I thought it might be amusing.”
Kelly chuckled again, shaking her head in resignation. What other answer had she expected from an outrageous eccentric like Nick O’Brien? If she had any sense at all, she’d be half out of her mind with terror. Instead, she felt an odd serenity at O’Brien’s firm assurance that her safety was in his hands. Strange. She had not felt so secure and protected even when her father had been alive.