He nodded and smiled, leaning one elbow on the basket-edge. Darcy had the uncomfortable sensation that he’d been looking at her and not the view. And she hated it that she was relieved he hadn’t done this with anyone else.
She teased him now. ‘You’re not twitching at being so far from communication and Montgomery?’
Max lifted his phone out of his pocket and held it up to show that it had no bars of service, then put it back. ‘Nope.’
He sounded inordinately cheerful about the fact, and Darcy marvelled again at this far more relaxed Max.
The view filled her eyes so much that it almost hurt as the sky got lighter and lighter, exploding into shades of vivid pink and red as the sun came up over the Alps in the distance.
She didn’t notice that Max had been doing anything until he produced a glass of sparkling wine for her and another for himself. He offered one to the pilot, who smiled but declined.
Max clinked his glass off hers and then the view was blotted out as his mouth came over hers and she fell deep into a spinning vortex that had only a little bit to do with the fact that they were suspended above the earth in a floating balloon.
Only their mouths were touching, but Darcy felt as if his hands were moving over her naked flesh. When Max pulled back she had to grip the edge of the basket tight, afraid she might just float off into the sky altogether. She was telling herself desperately that it had only been for the benefit of the pilot. To keep up appearances.
She took a sip of the wine and the bubbles exploded down her throat and into her belly. She couldn’t be more intoxicated right now than if she’d drunk three bottles in quick succession.
They sipped their wine and gazed over the view in companionable silence. Every now and then the pilot pointed something out, or Max asked him a question about the balloon’s mechanics.
Darcy hadn’t even realised she was shivering lightly until Max came and took her empty glass and moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her, his hands over hers.
She settled into the hard cocoon of his body far too easily. Stripped bare by the experience. His fingers entwined with hers and his head bent and he feathered a hot kiss to her exposed neck. She shivered again, but this time it wasn’t because of the cold.
They stood like that for a long time, and then the pilot said something low to Max and she felt him take in a breath behind her. Even though she knew what he was going to say, she didn’t want it to end.
‘We have to turn back... The air is starting to warm up...’
Darcy was glad he couldn’t see her face. Tears stung her eyes but she said lightly, ‘Okay.’
The ride back seemed to pass in a flash, and all too soon they were descending and the ground was rushing to meet them. They landed with a soft thud and a small bounce before the crew grabbed the basket and held it upright while they got out.
Max got out first and then lifted Darcy into his arms. For a moment he didn’t put her down. Something in his eyes held her captive. And then she realised they had an audience and she blushed and scrambled down.
She went to the pilot and pressed an impetuous kiss to his cheek. ‘I know you must be used to it—but, truly, that was magical. Thank you.’
The man looked pleased, but embarrassed, and said gruffly, ‘You never get used to it. Grazie, Signora Roselli.’
Max took her by the hand, and as they walked to the car Darcy was aware that she’d made a decision. It was as if the balloon ride’s unique perspective on the earth had shown her an eagle eye view of just how fragile life looked from above...how silly she was being not to reach out and grab precious moments, no matter how finite they might be.
The thought of continuing to deny herself after what she’d just experienced made her feel panicky—as if something incredibly precious might slip out of her grasp for ever. She didn’t care about the consequences.
Max stopped at the car and faced her. He had a look of resolute determination on his face. ‘Ready for the next part of the surprise?’
Darcy looked at him. She wouldn’t put it past him to have organised something like a trip to Venice for the day... But she shook her head and said clearly, ‘No more surprises.’
A range of expressions crossed Max’s face: irritation, disappointment, renewed determination...
She took a breath. ‘I don’t mean what you think I mean. I’m wooed, Max. I don’t even really care if that balloon ride was a purely cynical move on your part, I loved it too much and thank you for planning it. And I’m done fighting you. I want you. Take me back to the villa.’
* * *
Max wasn’t sure how he drove in a straight line back to the villa. He kept Darcy’s hand in his and the journey was made in silence, with the mounting anticipation coursing through his body saturating the air between them.
When he glanced at Darcy he could see a similar kind of tension on her small face and it only made his blood flow hotter. Dio. He wanted this woman so badly. More than he’d ever wanted anything.
Some kind of warning prickled over his skin at that assertion, but he ignored it.
She’d accused him of being cynical in his decision to organise the hot air balloon ride and he might have been...before. But he’d only thought of it the previous day, when they’d stood on the roof of the Duomo in Milan and she’d been disappointed not to see the Alps.