“Shit,” I jab at the number 13 on the elevator buttons. I do not want to go down. Nope. The parking garage? Really? I mean, I’m not really paranoid, but I don’t think anything good is going to come from going down to the parking lot. It’s probably just a late night visitor who missed check-in earlier. Maybe they got stuck in traffic. Yep. That’s it.
I move to the back corner of the elevator and wait for the doors to open. This person will get in, we’ll go back up to the lobby, and then I’ll finally get to go to my room and sleep. My feet hurt, I’m tired, and I’m ready to hurry home to my cats tomorrow morning.
But when the doors open, it’s not a weary traveler standing there.
It’s him.
The man from the book signing.
I’m instantly drawn to him. I should be terrified of him: he’s tall, he’s overbearing, and he’s blocking the only exit out of my little traveling box. He’s standing between me and any means of escape, and he’s looking quite menacing.
But all I can do is lick my lips and wonder what it would be like to push him back and climb him like a fucking a tree. Oh, I bet this guy fucks. He’s got to fuck. I mean, just look at him. He’s damn delicious.
I shake my head.
I’ve definitely been reading too many romance novels.
“Well?” I finally say. “Are you getting in?”
He looks surprised to hear me asking him that. Why is he surprised? He stares at me for a minute and then he seems to actually sniff the air. Strange. Does something smell in here? I look around and I sniff the air, too, but I can’t smell anything. Hopefully it’s not me he’s smelling. After standing around and talking to people all evening, I’m well aware of the fact that my deodorant has long worn off.
So much for 24-hour protection.
The man doesn’t say anything for awhile.
“Come on,” I say, gesturing for him to enter. “You’re blocking the doors, so they can’t close.”
“Are you explaining to me how elevators work?” He looks amused.
“Yeah, because you obviously don’t seem to know. Now will you please get in? I don’t really want to be down here all night.”
He smirks again, and once more, that smile goes straight to my already-wet panties. Damn him. I hate that this guy has such a wild effect on me. It’s super not-cool.
Then, instead of grabbing whatever luggage he has – does he have luggage? – he just steps inside the elevator. The doors close behind him, but he doesn’t press the button. He doesn’t even look at the buttons. Instead, he gets closer and closer to me.
“Uh, personal space?” I say. “Heard of it?”
“Being stolen away by a big bad?” He counters. “Heard of it?”
My mouth goes dry.
Stolen away?
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I don’t think I did,” I say. I look around the elevator. There are cameras in here, right? The man seems to know what I’m looking for because he chuckles.
“Ah, little Heather. The cameras are all turned off, and even if they weren’t, I’m afraid you’ll find the hotel staff is quite, uh, how shall we say? Indisposed.”
Shit.
“Did you kill them?” I ask, suddenly realizing that I’m in some sort of terrible danger. This guy has a weird effect on me, but I need to be afraid of him because he’s going to try to take me away. He’s going to try to kidnap me!
He laughs and shakes his head.
“Kill a human? Come on. That’s beneath me.”