style="font-size:15px;"> Nothing happened.
Silence settled over the car.
The woman looked up anxiously at the numbers, which still didn’t appear to be doing anything.
And then the silence seemed to get deeper. The soft creaking of the car ceased entirely. The lights flickered and then held.
But the car didn’t buck up and continue on its way. There were no sounds of movement. There was just a lot of quiet and waiting. In the void of anything else, Ace could hear the beauty’s breathing. He looked at her and saw her body stiffen. She stared up at the floor numbers as if willing them to move.
“I…I think we may be stuck.” Her soft voice trembled slightly. She pushed the button for the floor, then pushed it again. And again.
Nothing happened.
“Oh, no.” She turned frightened eyes to Ace. She licked her lips nervously. All her cool facade of moments before drained away. “I…I think…” she began, and then stopped as if her mind was a jumble, as if she was too terrified to speak.
“Shh,” he whispered. “It’s all right. I’m sure things will get moving soon.” Although he didn’t know anything of the sort.
No matter. Those big hazel eyes were pools of lost hopes. Her clipboard slid to the floor, and her small hands curled into tight fists.
“I’m…I’m sure you’re right,” she managed to get out, but her teeth chattered in spite of the fact that it was July in Texas 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
