Sleepless in Manhattan (14 page)

“Not to me.” He knew all about being on the outside, looking in.

Same feeling. Different stretch of water.

“But you were born in Brooklyn. You’re a genuine New Yorker.”

“Yes.” All through his early years when he’d felt rootless and insecure, like a rescue dog that no one had wanted to rescue, the city had been the one constant in his life. The place he’d slept had changed, the people who had taken him in had changed, but New York had stayed the same.

It was home.

Paige gazed at the Chrysler Building, its famous steel-and-glass rooftop illuminated against the midnight-blue sky like a jeweled wizard’s hat. “Name another city where you can see anything as beautiful as that? It’s pure fairy tale.”

He didn’t disagree. “William Van Alen, the architect, secretly constructed the spire in the ventilation shaft and raised it in ninety minutes. Made it higher than 40 Wall Street, which was being constructed at the same time. Can you imagine thinking you’re building the tallest building in the world, and then looking up and seeing that?” As someone with a brutally competitive nature, Jake appreciated the motivation behind the action. “They must have been so mad. The added height made it the tallest building until they constructed the Empire State Building.”

She smiled. “It’s magical. My favorite building in New York.”

He knew people who came to New York just to say they’d done it. People who stayed awhile, then left because they needed space, a yard, an apartment where they didn’t have to use the oven for storage, or slog down ten floors to do the laundry. No honking of horns, no sirens, no venting of steam, cleaner air, a slower pace—there were a million reasons to leave.

Jake only saw the reasons to stay, and Paige was the same.

He raised his glass to her. “To you, city girl.”

“To you, city boy.” She tapped her glass against his and drank. “Do you think New York is a man or a woman?”

The question made him smile. “It’s a woman. So many different moods, the way she plays with people’s emotions—has to be a woman, don’t you think?” he teased.

“I don’t know.” She tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “It could be a man. An elusive billionaire, showy about his wealth, secretive about his dark side. You think you know him, but he’s always capable of surprising you.”

“It’s definitely a woman. So many different looks. A whole closet of different things to wear.”

The crowd had increased and music drifted from the dance floor and floated into the night.

Ahead of them lay the Empire State Building and, beyond that, the bright lights of Broadway. The lights dazzled and danced, a city permanently awake.

Paige touched his arm. “Do you want to dance?”

He turned his head and looked into her eyes.

He wanted to do something with her, but it wasn’t dancing.

Dancing would mean holding her, and holding her would mean body contact and he wasn’t going there. “I don’t dance.”

Her smile dimmed. “Right. Of course.” She finished her drink and put her glass down. “It’s so pretty out here for a moment I forgot this was all about business. So let’s do this. See the venue properly. I’ll walk you through my ideas, and then you can do whatever it is you have planned for the rest of the night.” She walked away, elegant, dignified and all woman.

But not his woman.

Never his woman.

Jake stared after her, his gaze traveling from her ankles to her hips and lingering there.

He’d look around the venue, make all the right noises, and then go home and dance with a bottle of whiskey.

* * *

W
HAT
HAD
SHE
been
thinking
?

She’d asked him to dance, as if this was a
date
.

What was the matter with her? Where was her brain?

For a moment, under the glittering starlit sky and lights of Manhattan, she’d forgotten to keep her distance. She’d stopped thinking of Jake as a client and started thinking of him as a man.

She made an impatient sound. Who in their right mind would ever forget that Jake Romano was a man? He was testosterone in a tux. She’d been aware of every single sexy part of him from the moment he’d strode into the foyer of the building. He didn’t blend into his surroundings like so many other people at this event—he owned them. Talking to him, sharing a conversation that for once hadn’t felt like unarmed combat, had tipped her over from professional to personal.

And she’d made it awkward for him and embarrassed herself.

Again.

All she could do now was get through the rest of the evening as fast as possible.

Trying to pretend it had never happened, she adopted her most professional expression and showed him the rest of the venue, introducing him to the conference manager and walking him through Urban Genie’s plan for his event.

He listened carefully, asked a few questions, added a few ideas of his own, all of them good.

By the time they’d finished talking, there was a crowd of people hovering close by hoping to grab a slice of his attention.

It was always the same. Some, she knew from experience, would have tech ideas they wanted to discuss with him. Some would simply be looking for business advice, some would be hoping for investment. Some of the women would be hoping for something more personal, too, and Paige didn’t want to be around to see if he delivered on that.

“You’re in demand, so I’ll leave you now and see you at the office tomorrow.” She managed what she hoped was a professional smile and walked to the bank of elevators.

Her feet were telling her that her choice of shoes sucked and she was longing to change into her flats. There was some footwear that even gel inserts couldn’t rescue.

She’d chosen them based on the height of the heel. Intimidated enough by Jake’s presence, she’d thought the extra height might give her confidence.

All it had given her was blisters.

Her feet, at least, were happy he’d refused to dance.

The moment she walked through the door she was going to take a long bath. With a glass of wine and a good book maybe. Or perhaps some brain-pounding music. Something to fill her head and distract her from thoughts of Jake.

Paige lifted her hand to press the button but a strong male hand reached past her and pressed it first.

She’d been so lost in her own thoughts she hadn’t heard him come up behind her, but she’d know that hand anywhere.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving, too.” He hadn’t touched her, but his voice alone was enough to send sizzles of awareness across her skin.

It was brutally unfair that she felt this way about a man who wasn’t interested in her.

“You had a crowd of people wanting your attention.”

“I’m with you.”

If only.
“This wasn’t a date, Jake.” She was pleased with how casual she sounded. “It was business. And anyway, since when did the presence of one woman prevent you from pursuing another?”

“I’ve never cheated on a woman.” His voice was quiet and disturbingly close to her ear. “And I always make sure a woman gets home safely.”

Her stupid heart, the one bit of her that never behaved as the textbooks said it should, skipped a beat. “You’re taking women home now? Careful, that sounds almost like commitment.”

“Their homes, not mine.” There was a smile in his voice. “And it’s good manners, rather than commitment.”

She wished the elevator would hurry up. “Have you ever given your address to a woman?”

“Never, although they do occasionally show up at the office.”

“Given that you virtually live there, they probably think that’s the best place to catch you.”

“My team make good bodyguards.” The elevator finally arrived and he held the door while she walked past him. “My driver is waiting downstairs. He’ll give you a ride home.”

Her feet were yelling at her to accept without argument. Her independent streak made her shake her head. “I can take the train.”

Jake stepped into the elevator. “Yeah, but you’re not going to.” He leaned against the mirrored wall and removed his bow tie with a few flicks of his fingers. “I know you like to be independent. I understand the reason and it’s an admirable quality, but once in a while it would be good if you said yes to something without arguing.”

There was a soft purr as the doors slid shut, enclosing them.

“I say yes all the time.”

There was a skeptical gleam in his eyes. “Give me an example of something you’d say yes to.”

Right now she would have said yes to sex. Where he was concerned, she would have said yes to virtually anything. She’d promised herself she was always going to seize the moment, and right now she wanted to seize him. But she’d made a fool of herself once, and no way was she ever doing it again. “I say yes to Eva’s cooking, to drinks on our roof terrace, to movie night even though Matt never lets us watch romantic movies. I say yes to a run in the Botanical Gardens, to a bagel fresh from the cart. Want me to go on?”

He was impossibly handsome, so gorgeous it fried her brain to look at him. Even now, half-undressed, he looked better than any other man dressed to impress up on that roof terrace.

His bow tie hung around his neck with casual disregard for its future appearance. His shirt was open at the neck, revealing a hint of dark chest hair. His jaw, clean shaved first thing in the morning, was dark with shadow.

He shouldn’t have looked this good, but if she’d ever seen a sexier man, she couldn’t remember it.

He watched her with that disturbingly intimate gaze that made her wonder if he could read her mind. She was an expert at hiding her feelings. She’d learned to protect others every bit as much as they protected her, but somehow with Jake she had to work harder.

He saw things. He paid attention.

She was about to make a flippant comment when the elevator gave a jolt. Thrown off balance by her uncomfortably high heels she was flung against him, smacking into the hard wall of his chest. For a moment all she was aware of was the solid bulk of his biceps under her fingers and the warmth of his breath on her face. Desire uncurled inside her, a slow warmth that immediately flared to burning heat.

His mouth was right there,
right there
—if she turned her head—

His hand slid around her waist to steady her and he frowned at the control panel. “Did you press something?”

“No.” Her teeth were gritted. It had been years since she’d been this close to him, and yet it felt as natural as if their bodies had been glued together for a decade. “I didn’t touch anything. It stopped by itself.”

“Must have been my electric personality.”

She pulled away from him, irritated by the depth of her attraction. Why couldn’t she feel this way about a man who was interested in her? There was no justice. “Perhaps you’d like to use your electric personality to get us out of here, then. Press the button.” As the sharp edge of her desire faded, she felt a lurch of fear. She wasn’t good with enclosed spaces. Never had been.

It would be fine, she told herself. Probably something simple.

The button for the ground floor was already illuminated but he pressed it again.

There was a clicking sound.

Nothing happened.

Paige felt her palms grow clammy. Her chest tightened. Elevators were fine as a means of getting from one place to another, providing they were moving, but being trapped in a tight airless space? She’d always hated it. As far as she was concerned being in an MRI scanner felt like being buried alive.

“Maybe the venue have trapped us here until we’ve paid for our event.” She tried to lighten the atmosphere but it grew heavier, as if the walls were coming in to squeeze her.

“Maybe.” His gaze skimmed the control panel. Then he reached into his pocket and she saw a brief flash of metal.

“Is that a screwdriver? You carry a screwdriver around with you? Why?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve had to get myself out of a tight spot. Hold my jacket.” He shrugged out of it and threw it to her, then rolled back his sleeves.

“What was your last tight spot? Was she married?”

He smiled as he worked. “I never touch married women. Too complicated. Put your hand out—”

“Why?”

“Paige—” his voice was patient “—this is another one of those occasions when you say yes and do it. You don’t ask a million questions and you don’t argue with me.”

She put her hand out and hoped he didn’t notice it was shaking.

He dropped a couple of screws into her palm. “Now I can take a closer look.”

“Look at what? What are you doing?” Whatever it was, she hoped it worked. “You’re intending to dismantle it and reprogram it? You’re going to hack into the FBI and tell them to come get us?” She wished they would. She wished anyone would. The walls seemed to close in a little more. Closing the screws in her fist, she wrapped her arms around herself and tried to breathe steadily.

Her heart rate had picked up and she felt panic swoop down on her.

Beads of sweat cooled her forehead. Was it her imagination or was the capsule shrinking?

Jake straightened. “Can you—” He broke off as he saw her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. “Just get us out of here.”

“I’m working on it.” He slid the screwdriver into his pocket. “Why do you always pretend to be all right when you’re not? Why not admit you’re scared?”

“I’m not scared. But I’d rather not spend an entire evening in an elevator.”

“It’s not going to plummet to the ground if that’s what’s worrying you, so don’t panic.”

“I’m not worried and I’m certainly not panicking.” Two lies in less than ten words. That was probably a record. Paige concentrated on her breathing, the same way she’d done countless times as a child.

Pretend you’re fine. Pretend you’re fine.

The panic grew.

“Do something, Jake.”

He turned back to the control panel so she couldn’t see what he was doing, but she heard him give a soft curse and slam his palm against the metal. “Doing my best, but unfortunately on this rare occasion my best isn’t good enough.” He leaned on the emergency button and moments later a disembodied voice echoed around the enclosed space asking what the problem was.