Her Sweet Talkin' Man. Myrna Mackenzie
and the air-conditioning seemed to have gone out with the power.
Ace took one look at the woe in her face, the way she was struggling to control herself in front of him when she was clearly terrified, and he wanted to take the elevator apart for her, to bodily move the car to the right floor.
“Let’s just try the emergency phone,” he said, dropping his voice to a low soothing tone as he reached for the receiver. Calmly he explained to the security officer who answered that he and another passenger were caught between floors.
“He’s going to get the technicians,” Ace told the woman when he hung up.
She almost visibly took control of herself. Her pretty lips tightening, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and gave a quick nod. “Okay,” she said faintly. “That’s very good.”
But her eyes were just a touch too wide. Ace thought he still detected a faint tremble in her voice.
“We’ll be out of here in no time, sunshine.” He flashed her a reassuring smile. “Or am I not allowed to call you sunshine?”
Something that might have been a smile in other circumstances eased some of the tension around her lips. “I’m really sorry to be acting like such a fool.” Her soft red curls slid against her cheeks as she shook her head. “It’s rather embarrassing to admit but…I’m afraid I’m not very good in small spaces. At least not when I’m stuck in one.”
He wanted to ask why. Had something happened in her past that had brought on these feelings of claustrophobia? But then, he was touchy about his own past. He certainly didn’t ask others about theirs.
“We’ll pretend that we’re not in a small space, then,” he said. “Would you mind if I suggested…that is, why don’t you close your eyes for a bit?”
He laughed as her eyes opened wider. “That isn’t exactly what I meant, sunshine.”
“I know. I just…” She took a deep shuddery breath.
“It’s just so you won’t see where you are, then you won’t think about it so much. I won’t touch you,” he said. “I promise. Here, put your hand on the phone. If I do anything or say anything you don’t like, even slightly, you call for help. I don’t think they’ll have any difficulty identifying me as the culprit once they get us out of here.”
She almost managed a smile. He was glad that by keeping her talking, she was forgetting her fears for a moment. “Close your eyes,” he whispered. And her lashes drifted shut, hiding those gorgeous hazel eyes from his view.
“What now?” she asked.
“How about this? Picture something wonderful,” he suggested. “Someplace really big and open. The ocean.”
She laughed softly, a low husky sound that would have been right at home in a setting that included satin sheets, candles and a man’s fingertips caressing her skin. “I’ve never been to the ocean.”
“Hmm, well, you should go someday,” he said, even though he’d never been to the ocean, either. “You should definitely insist that your husband take you there.” It didn’t hurt to remind himself that she probably was some man’s treasure, and he, Ace Turner Carson, had no business thinking of her in connection with satin sheets, candles or touching.
Her eyes flew open, and he didn’t have to ask why. “No husband,” he deduced automatically. “Well, all right, then. No husband, but you look like a very independent woman. You obviously are a busy and capable woman. You still have that clipboard,” he teased. “And you’ve made it clear that you don’t need any help from a man. You can transport yourself to the ocean. You are a career woman, aren’t you?” he asked, indicating the pin she wore that said Mission Creek Memorial staff. “You probably hate the fact that one of the first things men notice about you is your legs.”
Her cheeks turned a delicious shade of rose. Embarrassment or anger? he wondered. Actually he hoped he hadn’t embarrassed her when what he’d been aiming for was a little indignation on her part. Anger was a good thing at times. It could take a person’s mind off his or her problems. He knew about using anger to run from troubles.
“My legs?” she asked as if she hadn’t heard him right. Maybe she hadn’t when she was so frightened she could barely think, much less hear.
“Absolutely beautiful,” he said, wondering what in hell he was doing and where this was leading.
But just at that moment the elevator began to move again. The beauty gasped. Reality sank in. She smiled in relief, automatically turning to him to share the moment.
He smiled back, entranced by the sheer joy on her face.
And then the elevator stopped again.
Ace didn’t give her time even to think about the fact that salvation had been stolen from her. He didn’t want to see what that kind of fear and disappointment could do to her. Instead, he swooped in close, crowding her, knowing that the nearness of his body would be a distraction, although probably an unwelcome one for a woman such as this. “Tell me what that pin is for and why you were carrying that clipboard,” he said, searching for a topic to take her mind off her troubles.
The clipboard was still on the floor at her feet. To see it, she’d have to look down. Her hair would no doubt brush against him, he was that close. Instead, she looked up into his eyes, her own uncertain and slightly lost. She fingered the pin on her lapel. “I’m…that is, I’m the hospital fund-raiser.” She swallowed hard and then squared her shoulders. “You probably already know, but today is a very big day for the hospital with the new ward opening and so many people coming for the celebration. Lots to think about and keep track of. Lots to do,” she said, her voice a soft whisper. After all, he was near. Near enough to breathe in the floral scent of her shampoo. There was no need to raise her voice.
For a minute with this soft lovely woman standing beside him, Ace wasn’t sure he’d be able to speak as the threads of desire wound through his body. But though he had her talking, he was reasonably certain that he needed to keep her talking. Otherwise, she was going to remember where they were. The fear would resurface with a vengeance.
“You’re the hospital’s fund-raiser? Ah, so you are an independent woman, darlin’.”
She lifted her chin, tipping her head back and causing her hair to spill over her shoulders. Some of her former color and life seemed to have returned. “You’re trying to get a rise out of me, aren’t you. So that I won’t think about the fact that I want to physically rip the doors off their tracks with my teeth.”
Okay, so she was on to him. “That would be fun to watch,” he conceded.
“It’s not going to work, you know,” she said. “This isn’t the first time someone has tried to talk me out of this irrational behavior. I can’t seem to control it, hard as I try. You might as well give up. But I do appreciate your efforts…”
“Ace,” he said automatically, though she hadn’t asked his name. Oh, yes, he knew about irrational behavior, because for some reason he wanted to hear his name on her lips.
“Ace,” she repeated, her voice as soft as a whisper in the dark of night. The small space they occupied could well have been a bed. He was close enough to reach out and pull her to him, to taste her lips. He was staring down into her eyes. Her breathing was coming quickly.
But of course her breathing was coming quickly. She was scared to death.
Ace backed away a few inches. “So now you know my name, darlin’,” he offered.
She let out a laugh. “I get your point, and you’re right. I’ve already told you my occupation, one of my deepest fears and revealed the fact that I’m not married. It’s silly to keep my name from you, when I assume you’re here for the ribbon-cutting ceremony and I’ll be in front of the crowd.” She looked toward the darn buttons.
“Soon,” he said. “You’ll