Interview with the Daredevil Read online

  ‘We’ll see.’

  By his smug expression, he was in little doubt she’d fall in with whatever nefarious plan his ruminations landed on.

  Sure, the guy was sexy and sweet and totally sizzling, but if he thought she’d indulge in any of his extreme jumping/speeding/whatever, she had two words for him.

  Like hell.

  ‘Like hell I’m jumping out of this thing.’

  Ava’s fingers convulsed around the steel bench and her butt scooted backwards until she encountered solid plane wall; a wall that vibrated and hummed, indicating exactly how high they were in the air.

  She should’ve known not to trust Roman, especially when he’d virtually jumped at the challenge over dinner last night.

  He’d pretended to be sweet and lovely and understanding when he’d walked her back to her room and agreed to her one night of solid prep work before they indulged their passion for the other nights; when in fact he was probably dying to get back to his room to plan this.

  ‘You can’t not do your first parachute jump now you’ve come this far.’

  Her jaw dropped as she risked a glance out of the window, the thought of hurtling through the air at speeds defying man, with nothing more than a piece of silk tied to a few strings to break her fall, exacerbating her bone-deep fear.

  ‘I agreed to a scenic flight over the Gold Coast.’

  She jabbed a shaky finger at the cloudless blue sky.

  ‘I did NOT agree to jump off a plane into that!’

  He shrugged. ‘Shame. I thought an adventurous girl like you would be up for anything.’

  And just like that he pushed her buttons. Deliberately, of course, and they both knew it, but what he’d said rang true.

  This was the new her: adventurous, taking risks. And while a parachute jump terrified her, she knew she’d regret not doing it more; for if she didn’t tandem jump with this guy she’d never do it in the future.

  Grabbing his hand, she squeezed until her knuckles turned white.

  ‘Tell me you won’t let go of my hand the whole time.’

  ‘Promise.’

  He squeezed it for good measure. It did little to quell her rollicking belly or thundering heart.

  Thankfully, he didn’t speak as they geared up, giving her time to assemble a rapidly decreasing supply of courage.

  Think of the article.

  Think of the depth this experience will add if you can write about a firsthand extreme sport experience with the guy you’re interviewing.

  Think of being on trial in a dream job.

  Sadly, while she did think all those things she also thought about how the heck she’d keep her breakfast in her stomach when they jumped.

  Her body co-operated with his instructions, stepping into the suit, getting harnessed up, standing still like a rigid robot as he triple-checked everything, talking her through every step of the jump in a low, soothing voice.

  How a harness would attach her to him, how he wore a drogue parachute, which deployed shortly after they jumped to decrease terminal velocity, and how he’d activate the main parachute.

  She heard the words but her brain refused to assimilate. She’d somehow switched onto autopilot, doing everything he asked while a silent scream wedged in her throat, a loud, resounding ‘no-o-o!’

  ‘We’re up.’

  She recoiled as they edged towards the door, wishing she could miraculously be vetoed by the pilot for being too inexperienced, too shaky, too terrified.

  ‘You’re not going to back out now? You’ve come so far,’ he murmured in her ear, saying the right thing again as she sucked in a breath, another, before forcing one foot in front of the other.

  If Roman didn’t have her hand in a death grip she would’ve backed out but he gave her no option as she stood in front of him, determinedly avoiding looking at the sky beyond the door.

  She’d once heard about the G forces involved when going really, really fast and while she didn’t understand what a G force was she knew it couldn’t be good.

  ‘I’ll be with you every step of the way,’ he said as they reached the door and she braced, unaware of the metal harness joining them or the fact an expert had her back, unaware of everything but how unnatural it was to jump out of a plane.

  She couldn’t breathe as they hovered in the door, the wind rushing her face adding to the surrealism as every cell in her body screamed to escape while she still could.

  But the time for escape was long past as Roman began a countdown: 10…9…8…

  Okay, she could do this, but as she was slowly acclimatising to the upcoming terror Roman urged her forward and they fell out.

  She screamed as the force of the wind pressed her back against him, a scream suffocated as her stomach climbed vertically into her throat.

  They plunged, free-falling for horrific seconds.

  Death had to be imminent.

  Yet as she gritted her teeth, squeezed her eyes shut and prayed, her body yanked upwards as a chute unfurled and a funny thing happened.

  She realised what she was doing.

  In the midst of her abject fear and roiling tummy and trembling limbs, a huge surge of pride swelled alongside the adrenalin and she reluctantly prised her eyes open.

  And promptly bit back another scream.

  A patchwork quilt of indigo ocean and emerald fields and roads criss-crossing like toy tracks lay out before her and if she weren’t so petrified she’d plunge to her death any second, this might’ve been kind of fun.

  She never would’ve had the guts to do something like this, had been so stuck in her sedate ways it wouldn’t have entered her head to take a scenic flight let alone do a tandem jump.

  Yet here she was and while she wouldn’t do it again in a hurry she decided to enjoy the terrifying buzz while it lasted.

  As a larger parachute unfolded above them and they drifted towards earth she deliberately kept her eyes open, desperately swallowing to send her heart back to where it belonged.

  Despite the tolerable speed at which they were travelling the ground seemed to be rising up to meet them at a hair-raising pace and she screamed again as they came into land in an open field, her legs managing not to buckle as they touched down, both of them running until Roman tapped her on the shoulder to slow down.

  It wasn’t until that moment she realised he hadn’t let go of her other hand the entire time, just as she’d asked, but it wasn’t ’til they’d stopped that she could breathe again.

  She waited until he unbuckled her before turning, ready to flay him. But the moment she locked gazes with him, her verbal spray died. His eyes gleamed with admiration and approval and something suspiciously like genuine caring.

  ‘I’m so proud of you.’

  He leaned in and kissed her, a gentle kiss that didn’t undermine her half as much as his appreciation of how much this had meant to her.

  Tears stung her eyes and she blinked rapidly, not wanting to cry and ruin the moment. She hadn’t cried after her divorce, she’d be damned if she cried now.

  ‘Hey, I’m the one who should be tearing up, what with the way you’ve broken every bone in my hand.’

  He wriggled his fingers to emphasise her death grip and she smiled through her tears, just as he’d intended.

  ‘You’ll live.’

  Releasing his hand, she tentatively patted it. ‘Besides, even if I had cracked a bone or two, it’d be entirely your fault.’

  ‘A promise is a promise.’ His eyes clouded before clearing. ‘I promised to hold your hand the whole time and I came good.’

  ‘Actually, I may need that hand again to help me get back to the terminal.’

  She took a step forward to prove her point, her knees wobbling so badly she would’ve fallen if he hadn’t reached out to her.

  ‘Look up.’

  Squinting against all that endless blue, she shook her head.

  ‘Trust me, I don’t need a reminder of my madness…’ She trailed off, gobsmacked, as the enormity of wha
t she’d just done sank in.

  She’d actually jumped out of a plane.

  All because of this man.

  Lowering her gaze, she touched his cheek. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  Smart guy. He didn’t ask why or what for; his understanding smile said it all.

  ‘Ready for some hang-gliding or barefoot waterskiing next?’

  Wincing, she shook her head. ‘I think tai chi’s more my speed after that.’

  He nudged her. ‘Come on, live a little.’

  Holding his stare, she said, ‘I intend to. Back at the hotel. Later.’

  She wasn’t surprised when they rushed through the post-jump procedures. A tandem parachute jump might have produced some serious adrenalin but they both knew the biggest thrill couldn’t come soon enough.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ROMAN knew the after-effects of an adrenalin rush well. The buzz, the high, the invincibility, the feeling you could take on the world.

  He was addicted to the guaranteed feel-good buzz that ensured he stayed on top, stayed the best, stayed focused on conquering the next big thing.

  Medical experts had argued with him that the rush wasn’t due to adrenalin being released as a response to fear but more to do with the increased levels of dopamine, serotonin and endorphins following high exertion.

  Whatever the cause, he didn’t care, he’d take it. Time and time again.

  So why did he experience the same rush earlier today watching Ava battle her fears and do a tandem jump?

  There’d been minimal exertion on his part, he’d merely supported her through it, yet when the jump had finished and she’d looked at him in wide-eyed wonder he’d felt the same heart-pounding exhilaration he did following a B.A.S.E. jump or skydive or mountain boarding. What was with that?

  He’d been so proud of her he’d wanted to crush her to him and never let go.

  Right about then was when his fear kicked in, for he didn’t do for ever.

  Depending on the sports he loved for gratification, you bet. Depending on people? No way. He’d be better off jumping without a chute. Either way, he’d crash-land.

  He’d needed to re-establish their relationship boundaries so he’d rung the hotel and set his plan in motion for when they returned. The sooner they remembered why they were together, the easier he’d rest.

  Fling was good. Anything else? Not on the agenda.

  ‘Thanks for today.’

  Ava laid a hand on his arm as he was about to swipe the key card for his room and he stopped, hoping she’d like the next surprise he’d planned for her as much as today.

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  He swiped the card, waited for the green light to blink and turned the door handle. ‘Though I think you’ll enjoy the rest of this more.’

  ‘This?’

  He loved how a simple arched eyebrow transformed her to imperious princess in a second.

  ‘This.’

  He flung open the door, suitably chuffed by her gasp.

  ‘Wow.’

  She stepped into the room and he followed, impressed with what the hotel had managed on short notice.

  Tealight candles in glass holders were strategically placed throughout the room, their shadows dancing across the walls as he guided her into the suite.

  ‘There’s more.’

  They stopped in the arch leading to the bedroom, where the king-size bed had been sprinkled with rose petals and more tealights created a sexy ambiance.

  ‘How did you…?’ She shook her head, her lips curving as she caught sight of the bath-tub, a huge spa bath built for two filled with what smelt suspiciously like honey.

  Champagne propped in an ice bucket beside the bath, along with two crystal glasses, and the soft crooning of some soul singer filtered in the background.

  He’d wanted to reward her; the hotel had come through for him.

  ‘I didn’t know what you liked so I went for a combined Romance and Honey Bliss Package.’

  ‘I’m speechless,’ she said, her eyes sweeping back to the tub and the tray of almond Florentines and melted chocolate sitting near the champagne.

  ‘You deserve this.’

  He came up behind her, slid his arms around her waist, revelling in her softness as she leaned back into him.

  Tilting her head up, she smiled and the buzz was back, just as potent, just as scary.

  ‘If this is what I get after jumping out of a plane, I’ve heard there’s this really radical ride called the Claw, which spins three hundred and sixty degrees, nine storeys high, reaching zero gravity—’

  He silenced her with a kiss, a passionate, no-holds-barred clash of lips and tongue that left them panting and moaning and frantic to get naked.

  The setting deserved a slow stripping, a seductive peeling of top and shorts and panties to build anticipation and enhance sensation.

  But the moment her hand zeroed in on his hard-on he lost it.

  It had taken a lot to walk away from her last night and, still on an adrenalin high after the day they’d had, he needed to be inside her. Now.

  Cotton ripped and satin shredded as their frantic hands made quick work of the barriers standing between them and bare skin.

  Sheathing himself in record time, he hoisted her onto the black marble basin and drove into her, his adrenalin spiking again as she ground her pelvis against him, pleasuring herself.

  Gritting his teeth, he stilled, watching her writhe and buck against him until she came, his name spilling from her lips in soft, murmured moans.

  Unable to hold back any longer, he resumed his relentless quest for pleasure, driving into her until she scoured his back, their reflections in the mirror behind her heightening the eroticism.

  Wrapping her legs around his waist, she clasped him so tightly he roared, his orgasm so intense he could’ve sworn he almost blacked out.

  After several long seconds where he savoured the feel of being sheathed inside her, he finally eased back, to find a smug, satisfied grin on her flushed face.

  Tracing his lips with a fingertip, she jerked her head towards the bath. ‘Think I’ve worked up an appetite. Those Florentines are looking mighty good.’

  ‘What about the chocolate dip?’

  Her fingertip trailed down his jaw, along his neck and across his chest, where her nail scraped his nipple.

  ‘I’m thinking we can save that for later…’

  That buzz he had going on? Looked as if it’d last all night.

  Ava could’ve coped with the honey and propolis and royal jelly infused bath.

  She could’ve coped with the imported champagne and handmade Florentines and warmed chocolate dip.

  She could’ve coped with Roman rubbing her languid limbs in honey-lemon body butter before taking his time exploring every curve, his skill as a lover taking her to ecstatic heights she’d never dreamed possible.

  But what she couldn’t cope with was waking in his arms, sated, satisfied and more secure than she’d ever felt.

  Not good.

  Being with Roman wasn’t about security. It was about adventure and fun and short-term thrill. Last night had produced all that and more, and she put down her insatiability to the adrenalin coursing through her system.

  They’d been wild last night, burning off all that energy, but now, cradled in his arms, feeling so protected?

  Uh-uh, getting attached was the last thing she wanted or needed.

  Yet for these brief few moments while he slumbered, she allowed herself to savour the illicit delight of being cradled in a pair of strong, muscular arms.

  She’d never been a hugger, hadn’t had much physical displays of affection as a kid. Her dad had favoured pats on the back and her mum cool pecks on the cheek, while Leon’s lacklustre kisses had been filled with obligation rather than any grand passion.

  Which made her wonder: was Roman such a talented charmer and exceptional lover that he created these sparks with everyone? Or was she in deeper than
she professed?

  She wouldn’t tolerate that kind of fanciful thinking, wouldn’t let anything or anyone stand in her way of gaining full independence. But for a second it was nice to think what she had with Roman was special.

  Inching back a fraction, she studied him: the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes, the long lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, the sensual lips, the strong Mediterranean nose. His face had so much character, was so animated when he was awake that a person couldn’t help but be drawn to him.

  ‘Are you done staring yet?’

  His eyelids snapped open and, unable to resist touching him, she cupped his cheek, relishing the rasp of stubble against her palm.

  ‘It’s okay to stare if you’re thinking good thoughts.’

  ‘In that case…’ He whipped the top sheet off them and she squealed. ‘There. That’s better.’

  His gaze roved over her, a slow, thorough perusal that left her breathless and not in the least bit self-conscious about her nakedness. Considering what they’d done last night, it was way too late for bashfulness.

  ‘Yep. Definitely good thoughts,’ he said, a second before his mouth fastened on her breast.

  It was better this way, this purely physical expression of the tension between them, but as his lips trailed across her belly and lower, igniting her latent lust, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if they had more than a few days together.

  ‘You’re seriously telling me this qualifies as research?’

  Ava tied the sash of her robe tighter and mustered her best haughty glare as she stepped out of the elevator and Roman fell into step behind her.

  ‘Of course. How else are you going to interview me if I’m not relaxed and right now the Salus Per Aquum is the best place for us to work.’

  ‘You’re mad,’ she muttered, laughing as he tickled her ribs.

  ‘You need me to answer questions, I need you to indulge me for an hour then I’m all yours.’

  ‘Indulge you?’

  ‘I’ve seen how you’ve been walking since the jump, thought it might be a good idea to get some of those muscles loosened up.’