“For fuck’s sake,” Mr. Knight exhaled, pressing the buttons over and over again. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
I sighed. “We’re stuck.”
He rolled his eyes. “You don’t say. Of all the elevators in the building to get in, we got into this one. I have a meeting in the conference room in ten minutes.” He glanced down at his expensive watch and released a sigh of frustration.
The thought of being alone with this asshole for a couple minutes tops was bad enough. Now it seemed that it was going to be a lot longer than that.
Just then, the emergency intercom sputtered to life.
“Hi, this is Adam from security. We’ve been alerted that there’s a fault with the elevator you’re in. If you two could sit tight, help is on the way.”
Mason pressed the button for the speaker. “How long of a wait are we talking about here?”
“We’re looking at about forty-five minutes to an hour’s wait, but hopefully we can get you sorted a lot sooner than that. Just sit tight and try to remain calm.”
Easy for Adam to say when he wasn’t stuck in here with Mason Knight.
Mr. Knight turned, agitated.
“Looks like we’re in for a wait?” I said lightly.
“No” was all he said. His face was hard. He looked like he wanted to break something.
He paced back and forth, the small space suddenly feeling even smaller with him in it. I pressed myself against the wall, trying to stay out of his way. Each step he took seemed to vibrate through the floor.
He grabbed the elevator doors, his fingers grasping uselessly at the metal, trying to pry them apart. They didn’t budge, of course.
“Of all the stupid things,” he muttered. “Stuck in a tin can.”
Then, his eyes flashed up to the lights.
He punched them, and the entire fixture shifted, revealing a dark hole above us.
“What are you doing?!” I shrieked.
He glanced at me, annoyance in his eyes. “Do I look like I’m knitting? I’m getting us out of here.”
He jumped, grasping the edge of the opening. He hung there for a second, his arms straining, muscles bunching in his back and shoulders. Even like this, he was…distracting.
I quickly looked away. “You know, there’s a reason they tell you to stay in the elevator. It’s safer.”
He grunted. “Says the woman who needs her mother to set her up on dates.”
Then, with another grunt, he pulled himself up and disappeared through the hole.
I tried to see him, but it was too dark in the shaft. I heard him moving around, though, making noises, rattling cables, still angry. Then, nothing.
“Mr. Knight?” I called.
After a long minute, his face appeared again in the hole. He looked down at me. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me if I’m all right?” he said, sarcasm in his voice. “Or are you too busy hoping I’ll fall and break my neck?”
I bit my lip. “Are you all right?” I asked quietly.
He rolled his eyes, then dropped back into the elevator, landing right next to me. I just stared at him. He was completely insane. And…kind of impressive.
“Looks like we’re stuck,” he grumbled.
I felt like rolling my eyes at him just like he did me. But, of course, I couldn’t.
“Guess so.”
Forty-five minutes later, and we were still stuck in a confined space—the elevator from hell.
I was resting against the wall, turned to the side so I wasn’t facing him. I wasn’t trying to be rude, I just figured it would be awkward if we were facing each other in silence.
“I’ve never seen you wear those before.”
Mr. Knight pointed to the glasses I was wearing—black-framed ones I wear when I’m reading, which I was currently doing to pass the time.
“I try not to. They’re just for reading.” I looked back down at my romance book, not even reading now, just pretending.
“You don’t like them?” He scooted closer, invading my space with his scent.
As much as I disliked the man, he did smell rather good…like very good.
I looked up from my page again and gave him a shrug of the shoulder. “Well, they’re not exactly attractive.”
“What’s that you’re reading?”
Instead of waiting for a reply, he snatched the book from my hands and turned it over to look at the cover. “A romance. Hm. Why am I not surprised.”
I furrowed my brow. “Because I read romance. I think a lot of people do.”
Mr. Knight chuckled. “When are you going to wake up and realize life isn’t a fairy tale?” He handed me my book. “There is no such thing as happily ever after, Jamie.”
“That’s your opinion, I guess. I’m allowed to have mine, just like you are.”
I leaned back again, finding my page, but I was distracted now. Not just by Mr. Knight but by the growing heat in this metal box.
Mr. Knight had already taken his suit jacket off, but I was trying to last as long as I could with my extra layers. I just didn’t want to sweat in front of him!
Mr. Knight let out a low groan, the sound vibrating through the small space between us. Before I could look up, his hands were already at his collar, yanking at his tie.
He pulled it free in one motion and threw it across the elevator, where it landed in a heap on the floor. Then he moved on to his shirt.
The fabric parted as he unbuttoned it low, revealing smooth, golden skin and just a hint of his sculpted chest, a light sheen of sweat catching the light. Lower, the defined ridges of his abs disappeared beneath crisp fabric.
I dropped my gaze immediately to my book, forcing my attention to the words that had now become meaningless squiggles on the page. But my face felt hotter, my pulse annoyingly unsteady.
Mr. Knight shifted beside me, rolling his shoulders, sighing. “You look like you’re overheating.”
I stiffened but kept my eyes locked on my book. “I’m fine.”
“You’re sweating.”
There was a pause. A long one.
“Suit yourself,” he muttered, clearly irritated.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I slowly lowered my book and carefully peeled off my cardigan.
I barely had the wool off my arms when I noticed movement beside me. I risked a glance.
I ignored him.
But the air was still thick. And my blouse felt suffocating, buttoned all the way to my throat. So, I reached up and undid the top button. Then another.
Mr. Knight’s attention followed the motion like a hawk.
I unbuttoned a third—the last one before I’d be exposing more than I wanted to in front of him—and stopped.
Silence stretched between us.
Finally, he said, “Is that it?”
I turned sharply, narrowing my eyes. “Well, my mother didn’t raise a—” I stopped myself, jaw tightening.
His smirk crawled up his perfect face. “A what, Jamie?”
So, I said nothing and waited for the reprimand. But he only studied me, amusement flickering behind his eyes.
After a beat, he tilted his head. “Is your mother strict?”
Mr. Knight leaned back, nodding slightly. “A passion?”
I huffed a small laugh. “More like an obsession. You should see my parents’ kitchen. It looks like a gourmet restaurant threw up in there. Dad works so she can decorate her mince pies with gold leaf.”
He hummed quietly and moved his gaze back to the elevator doors. “My mother had a passion like that too.”
The single word caught my attention, his tone shifting just enough for me to notice. I opened my mouth, about to ask, but my phone vibrated.
I picked it up and saw that it was a text from Mum. “Speak of the devil, and she shall appear,” I murmured.
When I opened the message, I was pleased to see a picture of a very handsome man on my screen.
Mum was right. Ryan had a rugged look about him, exactly what I liked in a man. I quickly forwarded the image to Carmen for her two cents.
“That isn’t the guy that you’re going on a date with, is it?” Mr. Knight’s voice came from next to me.
He screwed up his face. “Just…not the type of guy I imagined you with.”
I was about to shove my phone back into my bag when it buzzed with a response from Carmen.
“Mr. Sexy Bossman?”
I sighed harshly and looked at him. “Mr. Knight, it is rude to read someone’s private messages over their shoulder.”
He just smirked, glancing down at my phone, which I was now hiding against my stomach.
“Who’s Carmen?”
“A good friend.” I glared at him, unable to hold back any longer. “And don’t you dare try to sleep with her. She’ll hope for something more, and you can’t give her that.”
Carmen had said different to me in the past, but I knew her. I knew that once wouldn’t be enough, that she would expect more. She always did.
Mr. Knight raised an eyebrow at my forwardness. “Relax, Jamie. Brunettes aren’t my type.”
How did he even know Carmen was a brunette?
He must have seen her profile picture.
“You have a bit of something there.” He extended his right hand, and I flinched away from him. He was close to me, so close that I noticed how tired he looked.
Without me realizing, Mr. Knight had caught a curl of my hair between his thumb and forefinger. He frowned down at it. “Brunette.”
Had he only just realized that?
The elevator jolted suddenly and then started to move, climbing the floors of the building and bringing us closer and closer to forty-eight.
Closer and closer to freedom.
But he didn’t move, still holding my hair between his fingers. It was weird, the feeling—I couldn’t describe it.
“We should grab our things,” I said, and he finally moved out of my way.
We both grabbed our discarded layers, he buttoned up his shirt and tightened his tie, and we stood by the doors, waiting for them to open.
Stuck in an elevator with a man who hated me. It would happen to me.
Just as we reached our floor, Mr. Knight turned his head in my direction.
“Pity you’re wasting your evening, Jamie. I hope he possesses the…finesse to make it worthwhile.”
The doors opened and he walked out, leaving me standing in the empty elevator, confused.
