Louisa George - Saved By Their One-Night Baby

‘It happens everywhere.’ So much for reliable electricity. And why she was excited by this he couldn’t fathom.

‘At least the light is still on, that’s something.’ But her smile faded as the bulb flickered and fizzed and died. ‘Wait, wait...damn.’

Was it him or was it hard to breathe right now?

‘Hang on.’ He slid his phone out of his pocket and flicked on the torch. An eerie glow lit the tiny space and he fought back the memories that still walked through his dreams.

Broken walls, bare wires, the weight and the pain.

Her grip on his arm was a little tighter now. Maybe she had a thing about lifts. He needed to show her that it would be fine. He covered her hand with his and looked into her eyes, trying to ignore the little fizz of electricity that shot over his skin at that slight touch. Geez, what would his body’s reaction be to something more intense, like kissing her? Getting naked?

And that was such an inappropriate thought that he let go of her hand. ‘It’s going to be okay, we just need to get it going again.’

All would be fine. He hammered a fist on the number eleven button. Then on the gate. Then back to the eleven. Eight. One.

‘Hey, are you all right?’ She touched his back, making him pause.

Not wanting to look too deep inside himself, he busied himself with pressing the red security button. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Sure. Me too. I love getting stuck in lifts.’

‘We’re not stuck.’

‘Okay. I love getting not stuck with a man who wants to not rescue me. Too many nots.’ She put her hand to the back of her neck and moved her head from side to side, as if soothing the knots there too.

‘No one’s answering, I don’t think the help button is working. There’s usually a phone somewhere.’ He stabbed at a metal plate on the wall. It swung open, revealing a loose wire hanging over a shelf where a phone had once been. Little beads of sweat pricked the back of his neck.

‘No phone. Tant pis. I’ll use mine. Call the manager. Bring your light over here so I can see.’ She tapped her phone. Twice. Two little lines appeared on her forehead. ‘No signal. Looks like we’ll just have to wait. I’m sure it won’t be long.’ She slid to the floor and pulled him to sit next to her, but not before he’d put his phone in the metal box where the real phone should have been. A shaft of pale light hit the far corner and the rest of the elevator was shadows. ‘By the way, my name is Claire.’

‘Ethan.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Ethan. I’m a...’ She grinned and bit her bottom lip. ‘What am I, if I’m not a thief? What could I be? I always wanted to be a singer in a rock band, but I can’t sing a note. Or a ribbon acrobat, but I’m not keen on heights. Who should I be today?’ She thought for a moment. ‘I know, I’m a princess of a small principality. I have wealth beyond measure but I work endlessly to help people less fortunate than me. You?’

‘I’m not a princess, no.’

That sparkling laugh again. Heat suffused his skin. He’d never found a woman’s laughter particularly sexy before but hers had a direct line to his groin. ‘Play the game, Ethan. Come on. You don’t know me at all so you can pretend, make something up, be anything you want to be. How would I ever know the truth? Let your imagination wander. Hmm... I know, you’re a dashing knight who likes to drive racing cars. Very fast. Very rich. From...somewhere exotic. You have that look about you. From...?’

‘England, actually.’

‘No. Play the game. How about Monte Carlo? Somewhere fabulously rich where they won’t let you live unless you have at least thirty million in the bank.’

‘I’m not big on games, Claire.’ Unable to just sit there, he powered back up the wall and hammered on the gate, managing to stop himself from shouting because that wouldn’t get them anywhere.

‘Why not?’ At his silence she said, ‘I’m just trying to distract you from the fact we really are stuck in a lift and no one seems to be rushing to our aid.’

‘I don’t need you to distract me. I’m not a child. It’s just a damned elevator.’ If he said it enough he’d believe it.

‘Don’t waste your energy banging and cursing. If the electric’s out, we’ll be here until it’s fixed.’ Her hand snaked into his and she tugged him back down next to her. ‘Tell me, why does a man insist on taking the stairs, and get frustrated when he can’t? Why does he hesitate to get into a lift with a woman he’s having fun with?’

‘Maybe I just wanted some exercise.’ Ethan shuddered. How could she see through him? It was unnerving. ‘Maybe I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable after that creep was coming on to you.’

‘And maybe there’s a lot more to your story, but you clearly don’t want to talk about it.’

‘No, I don’t.’

She shrugged. ‘So now you do want to play the game. A mystery man who doesn’t like broken lifts.’

Hot damn, why did he feel a need to explain? ‘It’s a normal, natural reaction to being trapped. I’d prefer it if we weren’t at the mercy of mechanical things.’

‘You’ve had a bad experience in one before?’

‘Something like that. A long time ago. I was stuck under a collapsed building.’ He breathed out. He’d never said anything about this to anyone in over fifteen years and yet here he was saying this to a stranger. Maybe it was easier to say these kinds of things to someone you knew you were never going to see again, who wouldn’t call you out on the fact that sometimes you got a little jittery in a tin box. That just happened to be broken. ‘It took a few hours to get me out. Other people died. I was lucky.’

Lucky. Yeah, he should be grateful for the nightmares—at least he got to wake up. But grateful wasn’t the emotion he generally experienced, not when guilt fitted him like a second skin.

She put her hand on his arm. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I don’t even know what to say to that. It must have been so frightening.’

Understatement of the year. He blew out a slow breath. ‘Yes, well, as I said, it was a long time ago. I’d prefer it if we changed the subject.’

‘You want to forget it. I understand.’ A beat. Two. Then her sing-song voice again. ‘Hey, do you want a drink? I have a secret stash.’ She dug into her bag and pulled out a silver hip flask, unscrewed the top and took a drink. Coughed. Wiped the top with her palm and handed the flask to him. ‘It could be a long night so we might as well make it a good one. Luckily my papa knows his cognac.’

‘Yup.’ Ethan enjoyed the burning sensation sliding down his throat and he felt some of the tension ease. ‘You’re the kind of person I’d like to be stuck with on a desert island.’

‘You’re the kind of person I’m enjoying being stuck with in the lift. And, for the record, you don’t make me feel uncomfortable at all.’ She looked at him through wisps of hair that he ached to touch. Then she smiled and it was so uninhibited and free that something in his chest expanded.

She made him feel hot and a damned sight less stressed. Awareness flared through him as he tried to find words that weren’t filled with innuendo. That wasn’t who he was or what she needed so he tried to get the conversation on to safer territory. ‘Good to hear. And, yes, I’m from England but I’ve been working in Africa for years.’

‘Ah. That explains the tan. You like it there? I’ve never been but I’m pretty sure I’ll get there one day. Some of those places sound amazing.’

‘It’s perfect for me.’ Not wanting to tarnish the romantic image she clearly had of the place, he didn’t mention the work he did there. ‘So what’s this adventure you’re embarking on?’