All of You (6 page)

Kyle stepped into the elevator with more than his usual shiver. What the hell was he doing here? Goesler & Groom was the last place he should be at noon in the middle of the week. But one call from Dory and he found himself exactly where she told him to be. To be honest, it was more than one phone call. Since this whole siege began, she’d called him a total of forty-seven times.

Most of the calls were vaguely cryptic instructions left on his voice mail. A few were cackled calls of success about his gifts. Well, Dory’s idea of success. “If she doesn’t set it on fire, honey, it’s a win.”

So far, manicotti and plants were supposedly the way into Jessica’s heart. Not that he was entirely sure that was where Dory was trying to get him. Still, she’d called, and against his better judgment he answered. “Get here and be in the west elevator at twelve fifteen, exactly. I’ll do the rest. You got me, kid?”

Here he was, at twelve fourteen and forty-five seconds, traveling up to Jessica’s floor. Whatever Dory’s plan was, Kyle just hoped it didn’t involve Jessica kicking his ass in front of her colleagues.

The door opened and he only had enough time to take a breath before he realized the woman on the other side was none other than his favorite redhead and her ancient Girl Friday.

For a second, Jessica’s brown eyes lit up, as if she were excited to see him before she reminded herself she wasn’t. Then her slim brows came together and her full lips flattened. “I’ll take the next one,” she said through lips that didn’t move.

Kyle switched his gaze to Dory in question for a second—the second it took Dory to shake her head minimally—but it was long enough for Jessica to register. Her dark eyes narrowed and her mouth pursed. He’d kind of figured Dory intended him to cross paths with Jessica, but that expression had “backfire” written all over it. Before he could get out any words of apology, the doors started to close and that’s when it all slowed down.

Jessica let out a squawk when Dory suddenly shoved her inside the car with the force of a middle linebacker. It was all he could do to catch her as the doors shut in front of Dory’s waggling fingers.

“I’m not sure who to kill first, you or her,” Jessica said into his shoulder, still regaining her balance. She found her footing, accepting his help only because she had to or fall down in an ungraceful heap. She’d just leveled him a dirty look when the elevator gave a sickening lurch and tumbled them into each other all over again. The lights flickered overhead and the bottom of Kyle’s stomach disappeared entirely.

“Her,” he heard himself saying, never afraid to throw an old lady under a bus when she had it coming. “Definitely her.”

As last words went, they probably weren’t all too heroic, but Kyle didn’t have much time to take them back. The lack of movement was registering in his brain and he expected the panic to follow as soon as it did. His throat was already tightening. He watched his hands claw around Jessica’s shoulders, denting the felt fabric of her coat. Against his will, he looked up at the sealed doors. Sealed. Like a tomb. Like the cold, metal box of death it was.

“Kyle?”

Dory wouldn’t lock him in an elevator, would she? Could she? She wouldn’t do that to him. Not that he’d gotten around to telling her about his problem. His usually insignificant, fairly-easy-to-ignore problem.

“Kyle, you’re hurting me,” Jessica said quietly. Or maybe she just sounded quiet. Distant. It was hard to hear anything over the blood starting to rush through his ears. “Kyle!”

“What? Oh…sorry.” He pried his fingers off her and took the two steps backward he could.

Her frown reshaped into a softer expression. He wedged himself into the corner of the car, finding small comfort in the cool mirrors at his back and even less in the decorative handrail. It was so thin it wasn’t going to do anyone any good should the car suddenly plummet to the…not a positive thought. Was it Dr. Rosen who’d said to think positively? Or Dr. Joden? He confused their psychobabble all the time. Besides, positive thinking wasn’t going to open those doors until the power came back on.

“Does this happen often?” he asked. He didn’t think a place as image-conscious as Goesler & Groom was going to have a broken elevator for long. They wouldn’t be in there long. Five minutes, tops. Right?

“Does what happen? Timed abductions of lawyers?”

“Wouldn’t I have to get you out of the building to abduct you?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to check with our criminal department when the doors open.”

She didn’t sound terribly put out. He, on the other hand, could feel that cold tingling at the base of his spine. Soon, his throat would close entirely and the edges of his vision would turn black. But not before his lungs turned leaden. Air would stop coming in and then there’d be that embarrassing hyperventilating scene. If he was lucky, he’d pass out before she realized he was a frothing, lathering idiot.

“Well, point me to your best guy.” He forced himself to keep talking. Stave off the humiliation a little longer. “This is a double ambush, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Jessica grumbled, her tone dark and foreboding. Not wanting to think what that could mean for him—or for Dory—Kyle concentrated on the carpet.

He’d read that if you focused your attention intently on one thing, breathing carefully, you could maintain your control. It was in his recent spate of reading about pregnant women, but he didn’t have a whole lot else to do. Frowning, he stared down until he could see the faint repeating pattern of the carpet loops. He focused tighter, counting the number of loops before it began to repeat.

Amazingly, the trickle of cold sweat felt less like acid and his throat stopped squeezing itself so tight. Air swept into his lungs as he saw all the space between the loops. Tons of space. Miles and miles and miles—

“But that doesn’t make this any less your fault.”

The room shrunk again. “My fault?”

“If you hadn’t been stalking me—”

“I’m not a stalker.” Horror made him meet her gaze. Why did she look smug?

“All Dory ever needs is an excuse. She’s impulsive and occasionally insane. You trying so hard to see me again was all the incentive she needed to try something this stupid.”

“It’s not like she could stop the elevator. She’s just a secretary.”

Jessica barked a laugh. “That’s like saying Stalin was just a Soviet.” He must have looked as bad as he felt at those words because she kept going. “Dory keeps Victor, the maintenance guy, on a string. He’d do anything for her.”

“So you’re saying…”

“We’re here for the long haul.”

“Couldn’t let me have my hopes and dreams, could you?” he asked, for the first time wishing he’d found a woman with a slightly smaller mean streak.

Her smile still had the effect of discombobulating his thinking. “You should really sit down. It’ll help.”

“Help what?” Smooth, smooth. She’d never guess he was hanging on to the railing as if it were supplying his life’s blood.

Her mouth quirked. “I had a brother once who hated small spaces. Especially elevators.”

Just once? You mean you can trade them in somewhere? “Who said I hate small spaces?”

“Considering you broke into a sweat the second the car stopped and you’re barely looking me in the eye, I put it together. My brother used to throw up. You’re not going to do that, are you?”

God, he hoped not. “I won’t if you stop talking about it.”

“Sounds fair.”

His breaths were coming in short pants. “You’re being awful calm for someone who just got knocked into a metal box with a man she hates.”

“I don’t hate you.”

Kyle decided not to get his hopes up. She had that cool, robotic tone Lucas used when he was about to be a bastard.

“When I’m not absolutely enraged with you, I actually think you’re funny and interesting. Since I have no idea how long we’re going to be stuck together, I see no reason to waste energy being angry.”

Yup. Smart conservation of optimism. “Not until you know you can walk out sometime soon.”

“Exactly.” She scrunched her nose and dropped her heavy bag to the ground. She sat next to it, her long legs extended in front of her, crossed at the ankles. She couldn’t have looked more comfortable if she were on a pillow. “By the way, that counting thing you’re doing will only distract you from your problem for so long. If you don’t find a way to get past it, eventually, you’ll run out of spots in the ceiling or cracks in the wall. Then it’ll just be you, three walls and two locked doors.”

“If you’re looking for revenge, you’re getting it.”

“This isn’t revenge. Revenge would be telling you we don’t have one of those state-of-the-art braking systems that keeps us from skidding slowly down the elevator shaft to our fiery doom.”

Kyle swallowed at her cheerful tone.

“I’d be lying, but that’s not the point.” She watched him evenly for a few seconds before chuckling to herself. “It’s no fun if you don’t faint, Kyle.”

“I’ll have to do better the next time we get hijacked in an elevator.”

“Careful what you wish for. If Dory finds out you’re claustrophobic, she’ll find a way to trap us in a shoebox together.”

“I thought she liked me.”

“Oh, she does. She’ll just be hoping my inner Florence Nightingale will come out and take care of you.”

“Would it?” It might be worth faking an injury for that.

“Not even if you were on fire. Apple slice?” Jessica flipped open her satchel and pulled out a plastic container.

He shook his head as she opened it, snitched a fruit slice and crunched into it without batting an eyelash. For the first time he could remember, he wasn’t hungry.

“How’d you end up this way, anyway? You’re usually so easy in your skin.”

Which didn’t sound like a compliment. But it was interest. “Spend nine months in a small dark place with Lucas and no way out. Believe me, you’d be permanently scarred too.”

She laughed, this time with none of the underlying anger. This could be positive. Oddly, his chest lightened a little at the sound. “Yes, but I doubt that’s what caused your problem.”

“Why are you so interested in my psychological problems?”

“I’m not, but it passes the time. So, what happened?” She waited, as if he were actually going to tell her.

“I don’t think so.”

“Joykill. Your brother would tell me.”

It was his turn to laugh, albeit uncomfortably. “Lucas doesn’t admit weakness. He definitely doesn’t know about this.” The sarcastic ass would bring it up every other day if he did.

“If I promise not to tell him, will you tell me?”

“Isn’t that extortion?”

“Yes.” She shook her head at him. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s not as if you really know me. We had a nice night together, but good sex doesn’t mean I’m not capable of eating a man alive.”

Even in his strained state, Kyle had to smile as she realized what she’d just said. Her hand stuttered on its way to her mouth. She popped the remaining apple bit into her mouth and with wide eyes began chewing as if her next breath depended on it. She’d almost had him for a second there. Right up until she choked on her double entendre.

Why was she working so hard to make him think she was unfeeling? She was right, one amazing night didn’t mean he knew everything there was to know about her. He didn’t know her favorite color or why she ate in those tiny, nibbling little bites. True, he didn’t know what motivated her or what she did in the quiet times of the day. But did she think he didn’t remember those hours they’d spent before trying to devour each other in her bed? She hadn’t wanted to, but she’d shown him her personality, her interests, a tantalizing peek of the woman behind the professional mask.

Enough to make him want answers to those other questions.

He wanted to understand why just looking at her made him feel like the world stopped spinning. Or why sparring with her verbally gave him such an adrenaline rush. Why touching her felt better than touching anyone or anything else in the world.

Why she was so damn scared of him.

“We could always talk about us.”

“Oh no you don’t. Every time you talk about us, it’s some new approach to get back in my bed.”

He slid down to the ground, still holding on to the rail but feeling less desperate. “You have a nice bed.”

“I know. And I don’t plan to share it.”

“Ever?”

She munched another apple piece. “Allow me to rephrase. I don’t plan to share it with you.”

“Why not? You didn’t have any complaints last time.”

She made a choked, incredulous sound. “I’ve had nothing but complaints!”

“Not about the sex.”

Her mouth pursed tightly, but rather than admit the truth, she shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to sleep with you again. So all your elaborate plans, the meals, the plants, the ambushes…there’s no point. Set your sights on easier game.”

“Hey,” he replied, his temper sparking. His life up to this point might have been superficial and okay, somewhat wasteful, but he wasn’t a predator. Ever. “I don’t hunt women. The women I sleep with know what’s going to happen and they’re equal participants. Even you. And they all knew there weren’t any promises. No commitment. No happily ever afters.”

She didn’t look like she believed him. “What about what you said in the stairwell? And everything else you’ve been doing the last few days? What do you call that?”

A change of heart. But Dory had warned him expressly against letting Jessica in on his hopes. She offered him another apple slice and this time, he took it. Handling it gave him time to think of the right answer. Or it would have if he weren’t thinking how the tart fruit fit her—always a sting before the sweetness.

“You’re different,” he finally said with a shrug, not wanting to lie, even in this. Maybe especially in this. “I’ve never been with a woman who challenged me on so many levels. A woman like you brings a whole other dimension to the word stimulation.” He paused, watching her until he was sure she was taking him seriously. “The truth is, one night with you just wasn’t enough for me.”

She stared at him, her blasé mask finally gone. But she didn’t look happy. “It was hardly a night.”