Mine to Protect

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Mine to Protect Page 6

by Sarah J. Brooks


  “Hmmm,” Colt said, pressing buttons on the panel to make the carrier move. It didn’t budge. He tried the button to force open the doors, but it ignored him. He looked upward over our heads at the emergency panel. “We could always get out that way if we had to, but it would be safer if we waited here until someone comes to help.” With that, he picked up the telephone inside the paneled access and when someone must’ve answered, he quickly told them our predicament. He hung up the phone and looked at me. “Some sort of a simple power failure, nothing dangerous. That’s why the buttons aren’t working, no power. I guess even the standby isn’t coming on. So, just relax, they’ll have us out of here no time.”

  As soon as he finished his words, the lights went out in the elevator and the two of us were alone in the darkness. I know I must have screamed a little because I felt his warm hand reaching out onto my arm. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re going to be just fine. It’s just a power failure. Look, it’s kind of weird standing up in the dark waiting for this thing to start moving. Let’s sit down and make the best of it, shall we?”

  I nodded.

  “Shall we?” That’s when I realized he didn’t see me in the darkness. “Okay,” I allowed, and he helped me slowly slide down the wall of the elevator until I was seated on the floor. Even though it was dark, I straightened my skirt, knowing the lights would eventually come back on and I didn’t want it wrapped around my waist.

  “Well, let’s talk. It’ll take our mind off things and before you know it, we’ll be mobile again.”

  “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

  “Well, why don’t you tell me about yourself? Where you grew up, about your family, your favorite color and maybe what you find sexy in a man?”

  That last part caused me to suck my breath in. “Why do I feel like the last part of that question is the only thing you really wanted to know?”

  “Not true. I’d like to know everything about you.”

  “I could say the same, you know? The enigmatic Mr. Stillman… The city’s most eligible bachelor and the businessman extraordinaire.”

  “Do I hear a tone of disdain in your voice?”

  “I’m sorry, I guess you do. I keep forgetting that I don’t not like you.”

  “That you don’t not like me? What does that mean?”

  “I know, I’m all screwed up. I’m sorry, but it was just that you left such an impression on me in that courtroom that it’s hard to feel anything but aggravation when I think about you.”

  His hand touched my arm and he began stroking the back of my hand. I had to admit it felt very comforting, warm and a little seductive. I could feel myself responding.

  “Do you think it’s just possible that you got the wrong impression?”

  “This sounds like a conversation we had in the restaurant,” I commented.

  “I agree. Why don’t we change the subject? Tell me about growing up. Where, who was your best friend, what you liked, what were you good at?”

  His questions brought back a rush of old memories, all of which were shadowed by Paul and his abandonment. I still found it painful to talk about and even in the darkness, I didn’t want tears in my eyes. As hard as I tried, it didn’t work, though. I could feel them welling up, but I kept my hand on the floor as he stroked it. “Oh, not a very interesting past. I grew up in a small town, I had good parents and a lot of friends in school. I suppose you could call me a little popular, but then people always said that about cheerleaders.”

  “You were a cheerleader?”

  “I loved it. I know it sounds trite, but when you’re cheering for someone, you’re always happy. Have you thought about that before? You can’t cheer someone on and be angry at the same time.”

  He cleared his throat, a sound I found sexy as it came so close to my ear. When I sat very still I could even feel the ripples of his breath against my cheat. I wondered just how close he was but didn’t have the guts to reach up with my other hand and find out. “Not being a cheerleader, I’ll have to take your word for it. But, you strike me as an exceptional lady. I’ve thought so from the first moment I saw you.”

  I cocked my head a little at the thought. “Really? I had the idea that you would instantly hate everyone in the jury. I mean, isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be?”

  “No, I don’t think so. After all, when you know you’re innocent you expect that the jurors will see that, and you’ll soon be going home with the whole mess put behind you. It never occurred to me that anything else would happen.”

  “Huh, I never thought of it that way. Maybe that’s why you looked to me to be so arrogant and self-assured. Maybe what I was seeing was competence of innocence?”

  “There you go. Now you’re getting warmer.”

  “I guess I was a little bit of a jerk to you, wasn’t I?”

  “No, not at all. I would expect if I were a juror that I would imagine the person to be guilty until he proved himself innocent, contrary to the orders they give you.”

  “You know? It was sort of like that. You figure the lawyers must have a pretty good case against the guy or woman if it went as far as a jury trial.” Even in the darkness, Colt was opening beams of light in my brain. I could feel his breath closer now and it smelled of brandy and a very masculine aftershave. I felt a single chill traveled down my spine and tried to set it aside. I couldn’t afford to let myself be attracted to anyone, not as long as I had Carrie.

  The elevator did a sudden little stutter stop, and then didn’t move again. The lights were still off. I know I called out in fear and Colt slid his arm around me. I didn’t resist. If we were going to fall to our death, at least I wouldn’t be alone, although for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why that made it any easier. I was illogical like that. His hand was stroking my upper arm as he pulled me against his chest. Again, I didn’t resist. I hadn’t been held by a man like that for a very long time and I liked it. Somehow it was easier in the dark, but I still liked it.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered into my ear. He pulled me harder against him and his right hand moved up to the nape of my neck. His strong fingers began massaging the tense muscles in my shoulders dropped as they relaxed. There was another stutter stop and I pressed into him. His left hand came up and laid against my cheek, his thumb stroking my temple. “It’s okay, Gwennie,” he called me by my nickname. Oddly enough, I liked the sound of it. He drew in his breath then and that’s when I felt his lips searching for mine. They were full and strong, pulling at mine until I allowed his tongue to open my mouth and sample my own. Without realizing it, I turned to face him and with the sort of surprised, but pleased intake of breath, he brought both arms around me and pulled me flat against him. He continued to kiss me, one hand riding up the back of my neck into the base of my hair, his long fingers pulling through the strands over and over. It was a seductive, sensitive touch and I understood intuitively that he probably knew my body better than his own. I shuddered, and he took it for fear although it was generated by pure lust. I even surprised myself.

  He whispered something, but I couldn’t catch what he said. It was drowned out in the sound of the elevator kicking back into motion. The lights flashed on and I quickly glanced downward to see that I had somehow managed to plaster myself against him, my legs spread open as I straddled his thighs. I blushed, and he smiled. “It’s okay, it’s just us,” he said as he pushed to a stand and helped me up. There was just enough time for me to straighten my skirt before the elevator doors opened and the party burst in on us.

  Bitsy was standing there, tapping her foot. “Where have you been? Why did you stop the elevator?”

  “I didn’t. The power went out and it stopped on its own. We’ve been trapped in the dark.”

  Bitsy’s head spun around to look for someone and I wasn’t the least bit surprised to see it was Buddy. He had a wicked grin on his face and suddenly I realized that we’d been the target of the conspiracy. I couldn’t figure out why Bitsy was willing to take part i
n it, but when Buddy came closer and put his arm around her waist, I understood. I looked at Colt, but he was looking at me. I could tell he hadn’t been in on it. That made me feel better, for some reason.

  Colt came toward me, taking my hand and bent down to whisper in my ear. “I think we’ve been had. What do you say let’s get out of here and go have a bite to eat?”

  I took one look at Bitsy and Buddy and then nodded at Colt and followed him silently as he pulled me back into the elevator and slammed his hand on the button. “It was Buddy, wasn’t it?” I asked quietly.

  His back was to me. “I’d say that’s a safe bet.”

  “You’re angry, aren’t you?”

  He said nothing, but I pressed it.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He turned on his heel and faced me. “No, you don’t understand. It has nothing to do with you, in fact I could be trapped in the space shuttle with you for a year and not mind it.” His words took my breath away, but he wasn’t finished. “It’s Buddy. He works for me, not the other way around. I don’t like him taking things in his own hands. It’s just a control thing I have. I have a tough time trusting people, but I’m sure you don’t understand that. Everyone must love you, you’re so good and cheerful.”

  “You may be surprised,” I muttered, thinking of Paul and the trust I’d lost. “Look, I think this was Bitsy’s doing. She’s kind of wacky like that, getting involved where she shouldn’t. She’s an emergency operator and to her it’s instinct to help people. Even if they don’t want her help. I wouldn’t blame this on Buddy. I have a feeling it was her idea and he probably went along with it to score some points. Let’s just drop it?”

  He gradually burst into a grin. “Agreed.”

  “Did you drive?” Colt asked me as we exited the building.

  “Bitsy and I came in an Uber, in case we both had too much to drink.”

  “Excellent, my driver will be here in a moment.”

  “You have a driver?”

  “Well, didn’t you?”

  “Oh, I guess so, but it’s not exactly the same. At least I’m betting it’s not,” I answered and had no more than finished my sentence before a dark charcoal limousine with heavily tinted windows pulled up to the curb. “I guess I was right.”

  “Would you feel better if I called us an Uber?”

  “This is just new for me, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Just relax and enjoy it.”

  I knew his words were intended to set me to ease, but he had no idea the memories it conjured.

  A text popped up on my phone. It was from Bitsy. “Saw you leave. I’ve got Carrie for the night, don’t hurry home.”

  I responded. “You set me up, Miss Judas. But, it’s not like that, only going to dinner.”

  “Uh, huh. Just in case, your bases are covered.”

  “You ready? Everything okay?” Colt asked.

  I nodded as the driver opened the door and I climbed into the next part of my life.

  Chapter 7

  Coulter

  I felt excitement in my gut at the idea of having Gwen all to myself for at least a couple of hours. Every conversation we had was stimulating—she presented a challenge to me. She reminded me of a doe; dewy-eyed innocence coupled with a quivering defense that promised she would bolt at the first inclination. There was something about her that made me want to protect her, to shield her from whatever it was that had her so frightened. I knew she was hiding something; she had to be. Only people with secrets didn’t want to talk about their past. What could be so horrendous in her short life?

  I took her to Barney’s—a restaurant and bar known among people with money who wanted excellent food and even greater discretion. We were both a little under-dressed, but I was well-known there, and they’d never risk my future business or referrals by turning me down at the door. Or so I hoped.

  The maître d’ recognized me and came around from his podium to speak to me privately. “Sir, as you know there is a jacket policy. I will be happy to show you and your guest to one of our private alcoves if you wouldn’t mind wearing a jacket on loan as you pass through the dining room?”

  I nodded and smiled, marveling at how they handled such old-fashioned policies. It was how old money behaved; clinging with their last dollars’ worth of grip to a time that was more traditional and held in check by social rules than the present. He promptly removed a jacket from the coat rack, holding it up so that I might slide it on. He looked briefly at Gwen but decided he had pushed it enough. “If you’ll follow me?” he asked and took us to one of the single table, private dining alcoves at the far end of the restaurant. These could only be offered, they could not be requested. We both stood aside as Gwen entered and stood next to the table, a question in her eyes. I quickly slid off the jacket and threw it over the back of an extra chair, circling around to pull her chair out for.

  “I think I’m a little underdressed,” she commented.

  “You weren’t planning on coming here, obviously, but it’s okay. They know me here.”

  “So, I figured out.”

  The maître d’ fussed around us, opening the door to admit a waiter with a bucket of champagne and two crystal flutes. He handed us menus, but Gwen shook her head. “You order for me.”

  “No problem.” I knew what was bothering her; the menu was in French and had no prices. I didn’t want her to be embarrassed. “Thank you for letting me,” I said, patting the back of her hand. “I have some favorites here and I’d like to introduce you to them.”

  Finally, we were alone and the candle on the table between us flickered invitingly. I would have preferred her at my condo where we were truly alone. “Can I ask you something?”

  She nodded. “Yes…”

  “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’ll understand.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I get the feeling that you’re hiding some kind of secret.”

  Her head snapped up and I was drawn to the long, lovely line of her throat. I could almost taste that sweet flesh and the heat in my groin echoed the desire. “What makes you say that?” There was alarm in her eyes, which only convinced me I was on the right track.

  I reached across the table, running my index finger across the back of her hand. She jumped, and I caught her before she pulled it back. I moved the finger, stroking the inside of her palm. “You know… there is some truth to the saying that trusting someone is the greatest gift you can give them.”

  She didn’t say a word, another clue that she was hiding something and not willing to divulge it. I decided to give up on it for the time being. I wanted her to trust me.

  “So, tell me about your work,” she prodded, changing the subject.

  “Not as exciting as you might think. Just a bunch of concrete, steel, and glass.” I didn’t like to talk about my company—it had long before lost its appeal and challenge. I would have liked to have sold out the whole thing, but until I found something I liked better, it kept me busy.

  Food and drink were ferried to and from the room and I could tell that Gwen was beginning to loosen up. I made a few corny jokes and she laughed as though I was the most brilliant comedian she’d ever heard. I shared some stories from when I was young and in boarding school. She listened, wide-eyed and never interrupted. Her silence became conspicuous. “Sorry, I’m boring you,” I said, pushing my chair back and relaxing with a goblet of after dinner wine.

  Her head shook before she found her voice. It was sleepy, and she slurred a bit—not in a sloppy way, but in the most cuddly, endearing way. “You’re not boring, not even a little,” she purred. “It’s just that I’ve never known anyone like you.”

  “Not like me in what way?”

  She pulled back her head like a chicken getting ready to cluck and I could tell that she was wobbly. “Let’s just say people like you didn’t grow up down the street from me. You had, well… you had everything.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not that simple.
Sure, we didn’t worry about the electric bill, but my parents still fought, and I was shy in school. I caught the flu, skinned my knees, and my dad made me work for my spending money. It wasn’t all that different,” I told her.

  She was already shaking her head again. “It might look like that from your side, but not from mine. You haven’t walked in my shoes.” She snapped upright then as if she’d said too much. I read it in her eyes. Then, at least I knew the source of whatever she was hiding.

  I texted my driver and stood up, pulling on the jacket before I circled the table and helped her stand up. Her legs were wobbly and she leaned into me. Her body felt so good against mine. We walked slowly through the dining room and I slid off the jacket and laid it on the podium as we went out the door and into the limo.

  Gwen was soft and warm against me on the car’s seat. Her breath was slightly fruity from the wine and her hair shone in the streetlights as we sped beneath them. She didn’t ask where we were going, and I didn’t bring it up. It would make sense that I’d take her back to the building where both Buddy and I lived.

  We pulled up to the revolving door and the granite building was iconic against the skyline. I had to admit it was impressive and that was one of the reasons I’d chosen to move there. When I moved in, Buddy got a bad case of one-upmanship and bought a condo as well, although on a higher floor. He could keep the height.

  Gwen was silent as I unlocked my door and a motion detector triggered a few ceiling canisters dimmed low. The liquor had really gotten to her and I realized she probably wasn’t used to drinking. I wouldn’t take advantage of her, but oh, God, how easy it would have been.

  She stumbled, and I caught her, scooping her into my arms as I carried her back to the guest room next to the master. She was sleepy and didn’t offer an argument. I managed to pull back the coverlet and lay her on the bed before removing her shoes and lifting her legs to the mattress. A shaft of moonlight fell over her in the darkened room, making her features soft and mysterious. She was watching me, and I knew instinctively that I was being judged. This was where the trust would be built.

 

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