Well, just in case, she told herself, letting the thought go unfinished.
Cole looked at his grandmother. His mouth curved in an affectionate smile.
“Work’ll keep, G. I took a few personal hours off and I’m not leaving until I get to talk to this doctor, who doesn’t seem to have any sense of time,” he said, ending in a somewhat irritated note.
Cole glanced over his shoulder at the door that wasn’t opening to admit anyone. Nothing got to him more than those who thought their time was more valuable than the people they dealt with.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised, taking his grandmother’s hand off his own and gently laying it down on top of her bedclothes.
Striding toward the nurses’ station in the middle of the floor, Cole found only one harried-looking nurse manning the area.
As he approached, one of the phones started ringing. He swallowed a curse as the woman picked up the receiver before he got to her.
“Geriatrics Unit. This is Estelle,” she said in a somewhat hoarse voice.
Masking an exasperated sigh, Cole tried to look patient as he stood on the other side of the desk and waited for the woman to be finished. Judging by the put-upon, distressed look on her face, this was not a personal call. The dialogue bore out his assumption.
“Yes, as soon as I can. Really. No. If you could just send me someone to help out over here, I—hello? Hello?”
With a deep sigh, she hung up the phone, looking even worse for wear.
The second the nurse removed the receiver from her ear, Cole stepped up to lay claim to her attention. “Excuse me, my grandmother’s in room 412. We’ve been waiting for the last two hours for some mythical doctor to materialize. Just how much longer is she supposed to wait for this doctor?” he asked with as much restraint as he could muster.
“Who’s your grandmother?” the woman asked, her voice strained.
“Ericka Baker. She’s in room 412,” he repeated, struggling to rein in his impatience. “I’m Detective Cole Baker with the NYPD and I want to talk to whoever they’ve assigned to her case before I leave,” he told her gruffly. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Now where the hell is he?”
The nurse, he noticed as he grew progressively more irritated, looked uncomfortable. Why? Was she about to snow him, saying something about how busy this missing doctor was or something equally as unacceptable?
“Stuck,” the nurse responded.
“Stuck where? In some paper-pushing meeting?” he asked contemptuously. He was ready either to demand another doctor or ask where the meeting was so that he could go there and speak with this so-called “really excellent physician” as his grandmother’s doctor had called this person. And then carry the man back if need be.
“No, in an elevator,” Estelle corrected. “Maintenance just called to tell me that she had set off an alarm because she was stuck in an elevator.”
So that was what all the noise earlier had been about. Why wasn’t anyone doing anything about it? “Get her unstuck.”
Estelle shook her head. “Not that simple. They just told me that they can’t get a repairman here for at least another hour. Maybe more.” The answer, she could see, was not the one he wanted. “Between the flu and cutbacks, it’s like the whole world is shorthanded,” she explained, obviously far from happy about the state of affairs herself.
Another hour spent waiting was unacceptable. Especially the “maybe more” part. There had to be something that could be done. It took him less than a minute to think about it. Cole was accustomed to taking matters into his own hands. G had raised him that way. “Where’s the elevator now?” he asked. “They said it’s stuck between the third and fourth floor.” “Show me which one it is,” he instructed. There was no room for argument.
Estelle looked at the police detective uncertainly. Then, compelled by the no-nonsense expression on his face, she rose to her feet. She didn’t have to be told that this was not a man people said no to. “This way.”
It surprised Nika how fast the temperature could rise within the enclosed elevator car. She’d already taken off her lab coat and unbuttoned her blouse as far as she could and still remain decent for the repairman when—and if—he showed up.
She was grateful that she wasn’t overly claustrophobic, but this little incident could definitely send her in that direction. Growing increasingly restless, Nika raised her eyes to the ceiling. In between the two waning fluorescent lights there was what looked to be a trapdoor. Was it a way out?
Not that it did her any good, she thought darkly. She had nothing to stand on in order to access it. Not even if she stood up on her toes. At her tallest, she measured five foot six, the ceiling was at least a good foot and a half above her, if not more.
Nika continued looking up at the trapdoor. That had to be what it was. What other use could it have? If she jumped up, she thought, rising to her feet, she just might be able to push it open—provided the door wasn’t bolted down.
Of course it was bolted down, she silently argued, mocking herself. Why wouldn’t it be?
But then, she’d just seen a memo that said the elevators were scheduled to be renovated in another month. The rest of the hospital had already gone through a makeover, but the elevators had been left out of the last two updates. Consequently, they were all incredibly old-fashioned. Maybe the bolts or screws or whatever it was that held that section of the ceiling in place were weak, ready to break.
At the very least, even if she couldn’t get out, if she jarred the trapdoor open she’d be able to get some air into the stifling elevator car.
The promise of that was all the motivation she needed.
Bracing herself, Nika jumped up, her hand outstretched above her head. Missing contact, she jumped again. And then a third time, managing to stretch her fingers up a little farther each time.
On her fourth jump, she screamed. Half in triumph and half in stunned amazement.
The section she was trying to move moved all right. All the way off.
The next second, there was a man hanging upside down in the immobilized elevator car. His dark brown hair flowed away from a chiseled, hard-looking face. It was the kind of expression that inspired instant obedience. Oddly enough, she wasn’t afraid.
“Give me your hand,” he ordered gruffly.
The words, Come with me if you want to live, echoed mockingly in her brain.
This was no time to recall movie trivia, Nika upbraided herself. And yet, there it was.
Because this definitely felt like a scene out of some old action movie.
Chapter 2
Nika snapped out of her semi-dazed state a moment later. “What?” she cried.
She was fairly certain that an elevator repairman would have been trying to do something with the cable’s mechanisms in a far more stable, accessible place, rather than lowering himself into the stalled elevator car like a frustrated trapeze artist trying to make a dramatic comeback.
Blood rushed to Cole’s head. This was not exactly an ideal position to be in and definitely not something he would have chosen to do if there was any other way to go. But according to the nurse he’d talked to on his grandmother’s floor, the company that handled maintaining the elevators wouldn’t have a repairman out for at least another hour. That was completely unacceptable to him. He needed to speed things along and this was the only way open to him: rescuing the trapped doctor.
Stretching his hand out toward the stunned blonde looking up at him, his legs securely wrapped around the cable, which was most likely permanently staining his gray slacks with grease, Cole could only reach down so far. She would have to make up the difference. “I said, give me your hand.”
He had to be kidding, right? “Who are you?”
“The tooth fairy,” Cole growled.
He was in no mood for twenty questions. He wasn’t sure just how much longer he could hang down like this. Each second that passed by made it that much harder. The hastily conceived plan was to p
ull her up out of the elevator car and get her to stand on top of it. From there, he was fairly sure he could get her out to the fourth floor. Fortunately, the elevator had gotten stuck closer to the fourth floor, rather than right in between the two floors. Every little inch helped.
“Now give me your damn hand,” he demanded. “Unless you want to stay inside this box until that mythical repairman turns up.”
He had a very persuasive argument. There was no way she wanted to stay here a moment longer.
“No!” Nika cried.
She stretched first both hands up, and then leaned into stretching just one. That got her a tiny bit closer, but she still couldn’t reach him. Standing on her toes didn’t help. It was a matter of “almost, but not quite.”
Frustration raked over her, making her thin blouse stick to her skin as perspiration slipped over her. Dropping her hands to her sides, she looked up at him.
“How …?”
He anticipated her question. Extending his hands down as far as he could, he ordered, “Jump up! I’ll grab your arms.”
Another question occurred to her but Nika bit it back. There was no point in showering him with queries. Anxious to leave her confinement, she would have been willing to jump up and grab hold of the devil himself if he’d just get her out of here. Even with him hanging upside down, she could tell that this handsome, although unsmiling and gruff, man wasn’t the devil.
At least, not exactly.
Whatever else this man might be as he went about his life, right now, at this moment, this Flying Wallenda wannabe was the answer to her prayers.
Nika squared her shoulders. “Ready?” she asked him, bracing herself.
There was more than a shade of impatience in his stony face. Nika could recognize it even upside down. “Lady—”
“You’re ready,” she pronounced. Blowing out a breath, she gave it her all and sprang up as high as she could, her hands reaching up for the sky.
It amazed her that he caught both of her hands on the first attempt. It also amazed her that her shoulders weren’t pulled out of their sockets. The jolt had her biting down on her lower lip to keep from yelling out in pain.
Holding on to her hands tightly, the knight in tarnished armor raised her up. She could see his forearms straining. They were bulging and looked rock hard as he pulled her to him. He was still hanging upside down, but he raised her up to him until they were all but face-to-face.
He was breathing heavily.
As for her breath, it had gotten completely stuck in her lungs as she found her lips less than an inch away from his mouth.
Was that a heart palpitation? Or just adrenaline rushing through her? For simplicity’s sake, she decided to go with the latter.
“You’re not moving,” she managed to point out. If it wasn’t for the way his forearms were straining, it would seem as if they were frozen in midair.
“I’m not a contortionist,” he retorted. She could feel his forearms working, could feel a tremor begin to rumble through the taut, hard muscles. “Climb up!” he urged her.
“Climb up what?” she cried in complete confusion.
Was she an airhead? Had he just gone through contortions to rescue someone who was just as likely to harm his grandmother as help her?
“Me,” he snapped, “damn it. Climb up me.”
She hadn’t the slightest idea how to do that from this position. “You’re kidding.”
“If I were given to kidding,” he told her tersely, “which I’m not, this wouldn’t be the time for me to do it. Now, get moving,” he ordered sharply, “or we’re both going to fall into the elevator and one of us is going to land headfirst.”
That would be him. Not exactly the best way for this to end. Oh God. She could feel herself weakening.
Not now, Nika. Not now.
“Right.”
Taking a breath, she released his hand and immediately grabbed hold of his torso, holding on tight.
One hand free, Cole reinforced his hold on her other hand, using both of his.
“Keep going!” he shouted at her.
She was just trying to catch her breath. “Give me a minute,” she snapped at him. Her heart really pounded now.
He felt his grasp slipping on her. “We don’t have a minute.” “Oh God.”
Her heart hammering in her chest, Nika scrambled up her rescuer’s body, acutely aware of its hardness and all the contours she brushed against—both his and hers—in her effort to get out of this dark, confining space.
And then she was out. Out of the car and on top of it, where the cables, the grease and an entire array of uncountable dead insects all came together. Nika huddled on top of the car, pulling her body as far into herself as she could.
Just above her head were the parted elevator doors—and light!
“Move over,” Cole shouted up to her. “I want to come up.”
“Sorry,” she apologized. Still crouching, she tried to make herself even smaller as, attempting to move as little as possible, she shifted away from the opening. To keep from being overwhelmed by this whole ordeal, Nika forced herself not to look down. “Now what?” she asked.
He took a moment to draw in a few breaths. His hand just above her huddled body, her scowling rescuer held on to the cable. He gave her the impression that he could just swing himself off his perch like some modern-day Tarzan whenever the whim hit him.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked her.
“It would be,” she allowed magnanimously. “If my brain worked.”
Fingers lightly encircling the cable, her rescuer rose to his feet, as sure-footed as if he’d been born mid-leap between skyscrapers. How could he do that? she marveled. How could he seem so casual, standing on top of the elevator car? Had he grown up on the side of a mountain?
“Now I get you up to the fourth floor,” he answered glibly.
When she didn’t rise on her own to stand beside him, Cole took her hand and began to tug her up to her feet. When he felt her resistance, he looked down at her expectantly.
“Look, you’ve got to stand up,” he told her gruffly. “I can’t just hurl you out the door like you were some kind of discus.”
“Right.” Nika exhaled, rising shakily to her feet. Her hand was tightly wrapped around his as if he was her lifeline.
It suddenly occurred to him that there might be more at play here than he’d thought. “Are you afraid of heights?”
“I wasn’t when I first got on,” Nika answered honestly. “But now I’m not so sure.”
She was still holding on to his hand as he shifted her around so that they were both facing the parted doors on the next floor. Before she could ask him what he was doing, he’d released her hand and placed both of his on either side of her waist.
“Look up,” he instructed. When she did, he said, “There’s your way out.”
All she could think was, So near and yet so far. Short of him hurling her like that discus he’d mentioned, she couldn’t see how she was going to get out. “Yes, if I was a foot taller.”
His hands tightened around her waist. Something swirled around in her stomach in response. Panic?
“Don’t worry, you will be,” he promised. “Okay, on the count of three.”
“What on the count of three?” She had an uneasy feeling she wasn’t going to like this.
“You jump. I thrust and push.”
“You what?” she demanded, twisting around so that she could look at him. He couldn’t be saying what she thought he was saying.
But apparently he was already counting, albeit quietly, and “three” was on the tip of his tongue. It emerged half a split second later as he shoved her upward with a mighty thrust.
Stunned and caught off guard, Nika hadn’t jumped to give her body the momentum it needed. But the man who had come to her rescue still managed to get her up to the point that she could get her arms and the upper part of her torso out between the parted doors.
Leaning her whole body into it an
d snaking forward, she managed to keep from sliding back down. She’d gained a hold. Not stopping to celebrate the feat, she pushed and, using her elbows in a back and forth momentum, she scrambled out a little farther.
That was when a passing orderly she was marginally familiar with saw her. Gerald Mayfield came running over to offer his help. Taking both her hands as gently as possible, he succeeded in getting her up to her feet.
The next moment, the man who’d gotten her out in the first place was using his arms to vault himself off the roof of the same elevator car.
She swung around to look at him. There was a half-amused smile on his lips.
“Was it good for you?” he asked. “It was good for me.”
“Getting out was wonderful for me,” she answered, focusing only on the literal interpretation of his question. Nika stopped to take a deep breath before saying anything else. “Who are you?” she asked again, repeating what she’d asked him when he’d burst upside down into the elevator car.
“Are you all right, Doctor Pulaski?” Gerald asked, concerned. He seemed oblivious to the fact that he was interrupting her.
“Yes, thank you, I am.” Nika started to brush herself off with the flat of her hand, resigned to the fact that it was futile. “And thanks to you,” she added, turning to look at the man who had gone out of his way to extricate her from the elevator.
“Before you think I’m just some random do-gooder,” he told her, brushing aside her thanks, “I want you to know that I had an ulterior motive for getting you out of there.”
He caught her completely by surprise with that one. Just what kind of an ulterior motive was he talking about? She did her best to seem both game and ever-so-slightly on her guard.
He saw a ray of uncertain suspicion enter her eyes. Good. He didn’t think much of people who were too naive to be suspicious. Better safe than sorry.
“You were on your way to see Ericka Baker when the elevator died on you, right?”
She eyed him quizzically. “How would you know something like that?”
Was this a new doctor on the staff whom she hadn’t met yet? At this point, she had a nodding acquaintance with most of the physicians at Patience Memorial, but a few might have slipped her attention. Although, looking at this one—especially right side up—she couldn’t see how that was possible.
The Doctor's Guardian & Tempted By His Target Page 2