By the time they were in the elevator and it began its ascent to Drake’s office, Evangeline’s chest was so tight she couldn’t breathe. When she unsuccessfully tried to gasp and suck air into her starving lungs, panic completely took over and she began to shake violently.
Beside her, Maddox swore viciously and then firmly grasped her shoulders, turning her to face him. He lowered his head until their eyes met, and his gaze was fierce.
“Breathe, damn it. Don’t you dare pass out on me. Pull it together. You’ve stood up to your asshole ex, me and Drake and didn’t back down despite your repeated claims that we could snap you like a twig, so don’t go soft on me now, for fuck’s sake. You have far too much pride to walk into Drake’s office like this.”
Then he broke off, shaking his head.
“Forget that. You have too much pride for me to have to carry you into Drake’s office, which is precisely what’s going to happen if you don’t snap out of it and calm down.”
His voice was whiplike and had the same effect as if someone had cracked one over her skin. Suddenly heat bloomed in her cold cheeks and her throat relaxed, air rushing into and filling her lungs.
She was weak with relief and fast approaching her wall after being carried this far by fear-induced adrenaline. Her knees wobbled and threatened to buckle, but she shoved off Maddox’s attempts to steady her, opting instead to distance herself from him and prop herself up against the far side of the elevator.
How freaking long did it take for the damn thing to rise what couldn’t be more than a few floors? But then her meltdown and Maddox’s sharp reprimand had lasted mere seconds, though it felt like an eternity.
She was feeling so claustrophobic and humiliated by her ridiculous display of cowardice that she sighed in relief when the elevator halted and the doors swooshed open. And then she realized that she would now be facing a man far more scary and intimidating than Maddox, and after what little Maddox had divulged about his boss, Evangeline knew that Drake would not be pleased to have been kept waiting for over nine hours now.
Maddox had herded her from her position in the back of the elevator, but when she reached the threshold of Drake’s office, she halted abruptly and tried to take a step back, only to collide with Maddox’s massive chest. It took every ounce of pride and discipline she possessed not to groan out loud or do something even more humiliating like burst into tears or have another epic meltdown and pass out at Maddox’s feet.
She took a steadying breath and then steeled herself, her spine going rigid. Her chin thrust upward in defiance and she searched angrily for Drake’s location, determined not to be cowed when their gazes eventually found each other.
She reached back instinctively, before she could stop herself, seeking the reassurance of Maddox’s body with her hand and found . . . air. Damn it! The man was a veritable escape artist. This was the second time he’d “escorted” her up to Drake’s lair and then disappeared into thin air. She hadn’t even registered the elevator doors closing. And now she was trapped with a man Maddox had flat-out told her did not like to be kept waiting and expected absolute compliance with his every order.
Well, hell. She closed her eyes, giving up on the idea of boldly seeking out Drake—wherever he was lurking—and refusing to back down from his stare.
• • •
“You’re late,” Drake said, allowing his displeasure to sound in his statement.
But even as he issued the admonishment, he took in her appearance and the fact that she was obviously exhausted and dead on her feet. She could barely remain upright in those ridiculous heels and looked like she’d take a header at any second.
He knew well why she hadn’t been at her apartment at seven as he’d instructed. She’d gone to work in a damn pub and been on her feet for hours in shoes that amounted to an accident waiting to happen. She was pale, and fatigue was etched in every facet of her face.
With a muttered curse, he stalked to her, gently took her arm and then promptly guided her to the couch. He planted both hands on her shoulders and pushed her downward so she had no choice but to sit.
“Lie back and relax,” he said tersely.
Then he went to one bended knee and removed her shoes, swearing again when he saw how swollen her feet were. She looked utterly bewildered, her eyes wide as though this were the last thing she’d expected. But then he hadn’t exactly done much to convince her he wasn’t a heartless, cold bastard, some kind of monster who’d pounce on her at the first opportunity.