Can't Say No by Sherryl Woods Page B

is nothing serious. The pilot light went out. That’s all. It happens all the time.”
    He didn’t look her in the eye when he said it.

Six

    â€œW hat do you mean the pilot light went out?” Audrey asked. She was particularly proud that no note of hysteria had crept into her voice. She was saving it for later—when they crashed in the river.
    After all, Blake had looked perfectly calm when he made the announcement. Then again, it was obvious he was in a big hurry to get the thing lit and it wasn’t because he had a turkey ready for the oven. This pilot light of his apparently did something important. On second thought, perhaps she ought to be screaming her head off.
    â€œBlake, you’re not answering me again. Explain about this pilot light.”
    â€œI mean the damn thing went out,” he muttered, fiddling intently with something she couldn’t quite see and wasn’t sure she wanted to.
    â€œLet me try that question another way: does it matter?”
    He glanced up at her. “You’re not going to like the answer to that.”
    â€œOh, dear heaven,” she murmured.
    â€œDon’t go getting crazy on me. I haven’t had one of these crash on me yet.”
    Suddenly Audrey noticed that puffy white clouds, which had been drifting pleasantly overhead, seemed to be receding at a rather alarming rate. “Then why are we falling?” she managed in a choked whisper, trying to decide if it was auspicious that her entire life was not flashing before her eyes yet.
    â€œBecause the air is cooling off.”
    The significance of that did not slip past her. Hot air rises, cool air...dear God! “I don’t suppose you’d like to borrow some matches?”
    Blake shot her a quick, encouraging grin. “Hang on to that sense of humor, sweetheart.”
    â€œIs there anything else I should hang on to?”
    â€œYou could try me,” he suggested hopefully. The look he cast in her direction was so steamy it could have heated an entire room. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to help the air in the balloon, though it certainly warmed her from her head to her toes. She could feel her cheeks flush. She ran the tip of her tongue over dry lips.
    â€œAnd break your concentration?” she said with sheer bravado. “Not a chance. Unless I miss my guess, that’s exactly what got us into this mess.”
    She leaned out of the gondola to decide whether it was time to start praying—or jump. The tops of what she hoped were some very tall trees appeared to be no more than the length of a football field below them. She could hear what was very definitely the roar of the raging river, though on closer inspection she had to admit it did appear to be somewhat smaller and more shallow than she’d first thought. That observation required only a minor adjustment in her dire imaginings. She’d probably die plummeting headfirst onto the jagged rocks, instead of drowning. She was glad she’d had that last sizzling kiss before she went.
    Then she decided it was better not to look and clamped her hands over her eyes. She could feel the balloon dropping at a speed no doubt faster than any ton of lead. Images of imminent contact with treetops and swirling water flashed through her mind with sickening clarity. Just when she was convinced there was no hope for them, she heard the sputter, then the roar of a timely spurt of flame. The balloon seemed to catch the air like an opening parachute and the downward plummeting slowed.
    So, finally, did her heartbeat, as they began to climb again.
    She parted the fingers she was holding over her eyes and peeked at Blake. “Is that going to happen again?”
    â€œI hope not.”
    â€œI don’t suppose you could inject a little more certainty into your voice?”
    â€œIt’s a common enough occurrence. Every pilot knows how to deal with it.” He gestured toward the ground, which was dropping