“We’ll have to wait for it to land,” the second declared, panting. “She’ll be safe enough ’til then.”

The third workman agreed. “You must let go.”

“Like hell I will,” Gabriel muttered.

The woman he loved was inside that blasted basket. He may not be able to rescue her outright, but he would be damned if he left her to face her greatest fear alone.

Gripping fast to the rope, Gabriel did the only thing he could think of. He allowed it to pull him into the sky.

31

Effie hunkered down in the bottom of the gondola, holding Franc. Terror threatened at the edges of her consciousness. She refused to let it rob her of her self-control. Gabriel was here. He’d said he wouldn’t let her fly away, and she believed him.

The basket rocked back and forth as the men pulled on the ropes. Despite their efforts, she didn’t appear to be returning to earth. The balloon continued to float upward, wind buffeting the silk and canvas. It seemed to be rising at a steady clip.

Fear constricted her chest. “Gabriel!” she cried out.

The basket swayed sharply on another tug of the rope.

“Almost there,” Gabriel called back. His voice no longer sounded as though it was coming from a distance below. It was close. Exceedingly close.

Effie looked up in alarm as his hand appeared over the edge of the gondola.

“What in the—?” She got up in a flash, leaving Franc on the floor of the basket. Dizziness assailed her. She ignored it. So long as she didn’t look down, she would be all right. The alternative was letting Gabriel fall.

She grabbed him by the shoulders as he heaved himself up. Clouds billowed ahead, a stark reminder of how high up they were. Higher even than Mr. Galezzo had been when he’d fallen from his wire. If Gabriel lost his grip—

If Effie lost hers—

But she didn’t think. She only acted.

Wind whipping at her face, she grasped Gabriel by the waist, helping him swing over the side and into the gondola. The basket tilted wildly as he landed beside her, his hair disheveled and his chest heaving from exertion.

Together, they sank down to the floor, wrapped in each other’s arms. Franc frisked about them, his pom-pom tail quivering with joy.

The crowds below set up an enormous cheer.

Gabriel struggled to catch his breath. “I should have said, ‘You’re not going anywhere alone.’ ”

Effie didn’t know whether to kiss him or strangle him. “You daft man. What on earth were you thinking? You might have fallen—”

“No chance.”

“But to climb that rope—”

“Had to. It was the only way to get to you.”

She shook her head in wonderment. “You’re mad.”

“Clearly.” He smiled at her. His pale blue eyes gleamed with unvarnished affection. “I’ll say one thing for you, sweetheart. You’re never dull.”