work with horses?”
Tess nodded. “My dad is a trainer. He put me on a horse when I was three and I haven’t been off one since then.” She smoothed her hands over her skirt. “Yesterday, I was mucking out stables. Today, I’m sipping expensive scotch in a party dress, waiting for my eminent death.” Tess reached for the bottle and took another sip. “What about you?”
“My family owns a chain of hotels.”
“Hah!” she said with a laugh. “I bet you’re sorry you decided to stay at this one.”
“I probably shouldn’t admit this, but this hotel is one of ours. The one with the broken elevator.”
“You own this hotel? Sorry. It’s very nice.”
“I’m here looking after the family interests. Making sure the staff is doing its job. Tomorrow I head down to Puerto Rico to visit another hotel.”
“Your job sounds very glamorous,” she said.
“So does your job,” he said.
Tess shrugged. “Horses can’t bring you room service.”
It was an odd statement and caused him to chuckle. Was the scotch beginning to take effect? Or was this just the way she was—honest and plainspoken? “I suppose they can’t. But you can’t ride a hotel. Or race one.”
“Very true,” she said.
The light on his phone went out, but they continued to talk in the dark, passing the bottle between them.
“You said you were on your way to a party?”
“The owners of the farm are giving a New Year’s Eve party. It’s an annual event and I was invited.”
“And now, you’re stuck here with me,” he said in an apologetic tone.
“No, it’s fine. I’m really not much of a party girl. I can’t remember the last time I wore a dress. And it’s one of those high-society deals. Half the time, I don’t know what they’re talking about and the other half, I don’t really care.” She paused. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
“You’re probably one of those high-society types, aren’t you.”
“No. And you’re right to want to stay here,” he said in a teasing tone. “I hate socializing with snooty people, too. The atmosphere here is so much nicer. And the conversation more interesting.” He picked up his BlackBerry and pulled up a song, the melody barely audible, the light illuminating her profile again. “We even have music.”
“Maybe this is exactly what I needed,” she said with a sigh.
“Really?”
“I have to take a deep breath. Clear my mind.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
He leaned back against the wall of the elevator and smiled. For the first time in a very long time, he found himself completely relaxed. His brain wasn’t spinning with thoughts of business. He took a sip of scotch, then handed her the bottle. “I like this,” he murmured.
“Me, too,” she said softly.
When their shoulders touched, she didn’t pull away and Derek felt the warmth of her body seep into his. He had everything he wanted and needed here in this elevator—a beautiful woman to talk to in the dark, a good bottle of scotch and time to relax.
By anyone’s standards, he was successful. He had a job that gave him the opportunity to travel the world on a moment’s notice, to stay in luxury surroundings, to work at something he truly enjoyed. And he had a social life that most guys his age would kill for. But he felt old, as if the years spent working were starting to take a toll on him.
Derek knew exactly why he threw himself into his job. It made it easier to forget that he didn’t have a life beyond work. And not having a real life just made it easier to work harder. He was caught in a vicious circle and he needed a way out. When he was kid, he’d always considered running away as a viable option. But as an adult his options were—
It was the perfect answer. No explanations necessary, no opportunities to reconsider. Just pick up and leave, deal with the consequences later. “Did you ever feel like taking off?” Derek asked. “Just dropping all of your problems and worries and running in the opposite direction?”
“Never,” she said. “I’ve always stayed and worked them out.”
“Me, too. But I’m starting to think that every now and then, it might be nice to just go. Run. And don’t look back.”
“I was supposed to get engaged tonight. At the party.”
The news took him by surprise—first, that she seemed so blasé about their predicament and second, that he felt a sliver of envy for the man who was about to claim her as his own. This was crazy! He’d met her only a few minutes before. Yet he was selfish enough to want her to stay here, with him.
“I guess we’d better get you out of here, then,” he said.
“No.” Her voice was soft and unsure. “I’d rather stay.”
She reached for the bottle at the same time he did and their hands touched. The contact was electric and for a moment, neither of them moved. Derek smoothed his fingers over the back of her wrist, imagining the contours in the dark. “With me or inside this elevator?”
“Both,” she said.
“All right, then.” He grabbed the bottle and held it up. “Another toast. To a rather unconventional meeting. And to the good fortune that put us in this elevator together.”
The lights flickered, then came on. Tess held up her hand to the glare, squinting at the sudden change. Derek cursed beneath his breath. Why the hell did the staff have to be so damn efficient?
A knock sounded and then the doors were slowly forced open. The car was stuck between two floors and the maintenance men were standing on the upper floor. “Sorry about the wait,” the hotel manager said, bending down to speak to them. “We’re bringing a ladder and we’ll have you—”
“Don’t bother,” Derek said. He stepped over to the doors, setting the scotch down in the corner. “Come on, I’ll lift you up.” He held out his hand and helped Tess to her feet. Slipping his arms around her waist, he gently lifted her up until the maintenance men grabbed her hands. Then Derek boosted himself up and climbed out into the lobby of the fifth floor.
He dusted his hands off on his pants. “Thank you,” he said, nodding to the manager. “And don’t worry. I’m not going to mention this to anyone.”
“Thank you, Mr. Nolan. I appreciate that.”
Tess turned and looked back inside the elevator. “We left the scotch.”
“Oh, I can get that for you,” the manager volunteered.
“No,”
