Overload

“So maybe I’ll have two assistants,” she finally said. “One to answer the phone, and one to chase around town while I stay here and keep things organized.”

Elizabeth laughed aloud. Chickie was such an exuberant person that it was a joy to be around her. Their styles complemented each other, Elizabeth’s dry, sometimes acerbic wit balanced by Chickie’s unwavering good nature. Where Elizabeth was tall and slim, Chickie was short and voluptuous. Chickie tended toward the dramatic in clothing, so Elizabeth toned down her own choices. Clients didn’t like to be overwhelmed or restrained. It was subtle, but the contrast between Elizabeth and Chickie in some way relaxed her clients, reassured them that they wouldn’t be pressured into a style they weren’t comfortable with. Of course, sometimes Elizabeth wasn’t comfortable with her own style of dress, such as today, when the heat was so miserable and she would have been much happier in shorts and a cotton T-shirt, but she had mentally, and perhaps literally, girded her loins with panty hose. If it hadn’t been for the invention of air conditioning, she never would have made it; just crossing the street in this incredible heat was a feat of endurance.

Chickie’s bangle bracelets made a tinkling noise as she seated herself across from Elizabeth’s desk. “What time are you leaving?”

“Leaving?” Sometimes Chickie’s conversational jumps were a little hard to follow. “I just got back.”

“Don’t you ever listen to the radio? The heat is hazardous. The health department, or maybe it’s the weather bureau, is warning everyone to stay inside during the hottest part of the day, drink plenty of water, stuff like that. Most businesses are opening only in the mornings, then letting their people go home early so they won’t get caught in traffic. I checked around. Just about everyone in the building is closing up by two this afternoon.”

Elizabeth looked at the Eiland folder she had just placed on her desk. She could barely wait to get started. “You can go home anytime you want,” she said. “I had some ideas about the Eiland house that I want to work on while they’re still fresh in my mind.”

“I don’t have any plans,” Chickie said immediately. “I’ll stay.”

Elizabeth settled down to work and, as usual, soon became lost in the job. She loved interior design, loved the challenge of making a home both beautiful and functional, as well as suited to the owner’s character. For Sandra Eiland, she wanted something that kept the flavor of the old Southwest, with an air of light and spaciousness, but also conveyed Sandra’s sleek sophistication.

The ringing of the telephone finally disrupted her concentration, and she glanced at the clock, surprised to find that it was already after three o’clock. Chickie answered the call, listened for a moment, then said, “I’ll find out. Hold on.” She swiveled in her chair to look through the open door into Elizabeth’s office. “It’s the guard downstairs. He’s a substitute, not our regular guard, and he’s checking the offices, since he doesn’t know anyone’s routine. He says that almost everyone else has already gone, and he wants to know how late we’ll be here.”

“Why don’t you go on home now,” Elizabeth suggested. “There’s no point in your staying later. And tell the guard I’ll leave within the hour. I want to finish this sketch, but it won’t take long.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Chickie said yet again.

“No, there’s no need. Just switch on the answering machine. I promise I won’t be here much longer.”

“Well, all right.” Chickie relayed the message to the guard, then hung up and retrieved her purse from the bottom desk drawer. “I dread going out there,” she said. “It might be worth it to wait until after sundown, when it cools down to the nineties.”

“It’s over five hours until sundown. This is July, remember.”

“On the other hand, I could spend those five hours beguiling the cute guy who moved in across the hall last week.”

“Sounds more productive.”

“And more fun.” Chickie flashed her quick grin. “He won’t have a chance. See you tomorrow.”

“Yes. Good luck.” By the time Chickie sashayed out of the office, scarlet skirt swinging, Elizabeth had already become engrossed in the sketch taking shape beneath her talented fingers. She always did the best she could with any design, but she particularly wanted this one to be perfect, not just for the benefit to her career, but because that wonderful old house deserved it.

Her fingers finally cramped, and she stopped for a moment, noticing at the same time how tight her shoulders were, though they usually got that way only when she had been sitting hunched over a sketch pad for several hours. Absently she flexed them and was reaching for the pencil again when she realized what that tightness meant. She made a sound of annoyance when a glance at the clock said that it was 5:20, far later than she had meant to stay. Now she would have to deal with the traffic she had wanted to avoid, with this murderous heat wave making everyone ill-tempered and aggressive.

She stood and stretched, then got her bag and turned off the lights. The searing afternoon sun was blocked by the tall building next door, but there was still plenty of light coming through the tinted windows, and the office was far from dark. As she stepped out into the hall and turned to lock her door, Tom Quinlan exited his office and did the same. Elizabeth carefully didn’t look at him, but she felt his gaze on her and automatically tensed. Quinlan had that effect on her, always had. It was one of the reasons she had stopped dating him, though not the biggie.

She had the uncomfortable feeling that he’d been waiting for her, somehow, and she glanced around uneasily, but no one else was around. Usually the building was full of people at this hour, as the workday wound down, but she was acutely aware of the silence around them. Surely they weren’t the only two people left! But common sense told her that they were, that everyone else had sensibly gone home early; she wouldn’t have any buffer between herself and Quinlan.

He fell into step beside her as she strode down the hall to the elevators. “Don’t I even rate a hello these days?”

“Hello,” she said.

“You’re working late. Everyone else left hours ago.”

“You didn’t.”

“No.” He changed the subject abruptly. “Have dinner with me.” His tone made it more of an order than an invitation.

“No, thank you,” she replied as they reached the elevators. She punched the Down button and silently prayed for the elevator to hurry. The sooner she was away from this man, the safer she would feel.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

A soft chime signaled the arrival of a car; the elevator doors slid open, and she stepped inside. Quinlan followed, and the doors closed, sealing her inside with him. She reached out to punch the ground-floor button, but he caught her hand, moving so that his big body was between her and the control panel.

“You do want to, you’re just afraid.”

Elizabeth considered that statement, then squared her shoulders and looked up at his grim face. “You’re right. I’m afraid. And I don’t go out with men who scare me.”

He didn’t like that at all, even though he had brought up the subject. “Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” he demanded in a disbelieving tone.

“Of course not!” she scoffed, and his expression relaxed. She knew she hadn’t quite told the truth, but that was her business, not his, a concept he had trouble grasping. Deftly she tugged her hand free. “It’s just that you’d be a big complication, and I don’t have time for that. I’m afraid you’d really mess up my schedule.”

His eyes widened incredulously, then he exploded. “Hellfire, woman!” he roared, the sound deafening in the small enclosure. “You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder for over six months because you don’t want me to interfere with your schedule?”

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “What can I say? We all have our priorities.” Deftly she leaned past him and punched the button, and the elevator began sliding smoothly downward.

Three seconds later it lurched to a violent stop. Hurled off balance, Elizabeth crashed into Quinlan; his hard arms wrapped around her as they fell, and he twisted his muscular body to cushion the impact for her. Simultaneously the lights went off, plunging them into complete darkness.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_837cc929-81a2-5611-a6eb-5376a35a9238)

The red emergency lights blinked on almost immediately, bathing them in a dim, unearthly glow. She didn’t, couldn’t move, not just yet; she was paralyzed by a strange mixture of alarm and pleasure. She lay sprawled on top of Quinlan, her arms instinctively latched around his neck while his own arms cradled her to him. She could feel the heat of his body even through the layers of their clothing, and the musky man-scent of his skin called up potent memories of a night when there had been no clothing to shield her from his heat. Her flesh quickened, but her spirit rebelled, and she pushed subtly against him in an effort to free herself. For a second his arms tightened, forcing her closer, flattening her breasts against the hard muscularity of his chest. The red half-light darkened his blue eyes to black, but even so, she could read the determination and desire revealed in them.

The desire tempted her to relax, to sink bone-lessly into his embrace, but the determination had her pulling back. Almost immediately he released her, though she sensed his reluctance, and rolled to his feet with a lithe, powerful movement. He caught her arms and lifted her with ridiculous ease. “Are you all right? Any bruises?”

She smoothed down her skirt. “No, I’m fine. You?”

He grunted in reply, already opening the panel that hid the emergency phone. He lifted the receiver and punched the button that would alert Maintenance. Elizabeth waited, but he didn’t say anything. His dark brows drew together, and finally he slammed the receiver down. “No answer. The maintenance crew must have gone home early, like everyone else.”

She looked at the telephone. There was no dial on it, no buttons other than that one. It was connected only to Maintenance, meaning they couldn’t call out on it.

Then she noticed something else, and her head lifted. “The air has stopped.” She lifted her hand to check, but there was no cool air blowing from the vents. The lack of noise had alerted her.

“The power must be off,” he said, turning his attention to the door.

The still air in the small enclosure was already becoming stuffy. She didn’t like the feeling, but she refused to let herself get panicky. “It probably won’t be long before it comes back on.”

“Normally I’d agree with you, if we weren’t having a heat wave, but the odds are too strong that it’s a system overload, and if that’s the case, it can take hours to repair. We have to get out. These lights are battery operated and won’t stay on long. Not only that, the heat will build up, and we don’t have water or enough oxygen in here.” Even as he spoke, he was attacking the elevator doors with his strong fingers, forcing them open inch by inch. Elizabeth added her strength to his, though she was aware that he could handle it perfectly well by himself. It was just that she couldn’t tolerate the way he had of taking over and making her feel so useless.

They were stuck between floors, with about three feet of the outer doors visible at the bottom of the elevator car. She helped him force open those doors, too. Before she could say anything, he had lowered himself through the opening and swung lithely to the floor below.

He turned around and reached up for her. “Just slide out. I’ll catch you.”

She sniffed, though she was a little apprehensive about what she was going to try. It had been a long time since she had done anything that athletic. “Thanks, but I don’t need any help. I took gymnastics in college.” She took a deep, preparatory breath, then swung out of the elevator every bit as gracefully as he had, even encumbered as she was with her shoulder bag and handicapped by her high heels. His dark brows arched, and he silently applauded. She bowed. One of the things that she had found most irresistible about Quinlan was the way she had been able to joke with him. Actually there was a lot about him that she’d found irresistible, so much so that she had ignored his forcefulness and penchant for control, at least until she had found that report in his apartment. She hadn’t been able to ignore that.