Who's the Boss? - Erin McCarthy Page 0,2

I was being irrational.

There it was again. He was patronizing me.

I pressed my lips tightly together and looked up at the ceiling, praying for composure. Zen. I needed it. Breathe deeply. It was a technique I had perfected working as a chef in the restaurant business. My job was nonstop stress. I knew how to handle a high-pressure situation and I didn’t need this total stranger telling me to calm down.

“I don’t think I’m the one who needs to calm down,” I said, my voice sugary sweet, a hard edge underlying it.

Any man with any sense would recognize the tone of a woman who is seriously, extensively pissed off.

But he clearly was an oblivious idiot.

“We’re both panicking, it’s okay,” he said. “This elevator is hot and no one is responding to us. We’ll get through this.”

Yep. Still clueless.

“Thanks, I feel so much better,” I said in a breathy voice. “You’re such a big, helpful man.” At eighteen I had intended to be an actress. I could bullshit with the best of them.

He eyed me like he couldn’t decide if I was insane or serious. He didn’t seem to catch on to the fact that I was mocking him.

“Come here,” he said, shocking the hell out of me by taking my hand into his.

Uh-oh. He was tugging me closer to him. “What are you doing?” I asked, barely holding on to the helpless female voice.

I did not want to be in his personal space.

“I think we could both use a hug.”

A hug? Oh, hell, no.

I jerked away from him. “What? No, I’m good, thanks.”

He laughed. “I knew you wouldn’t go through with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I called your bluff. Big, helpful man? You took it too far with that.”

Rolling my eyes, I stepped away. He was right, but I wasn’t going to admit that. “Don’t try me, you never know what I’ll do.”

“Is that so? Will you distract me from the fact that we’re going to suffocate and die in this elevator?”

“It depends how. I can tap-dance for you if you’d like.” I wasn’t serious. I couldn’t tap-dance, and if I did, I wasn’t doing it for him.

The corner of his mouth turned up. “You could kiss me.”

I gripped the strap of my purse, assessing him.

If I was offered a million dollars, I might kiss him. Might. I’d have to think about it for a minute or twelve.

But for free? For his amusement?

Hell no.

“Sure,” I said lightly, because he expected me to say no.

For half a heartbeat he looked alarmed, which made me want to laugh. He didn’t want to kiss me any more than I wanted to kiss him.

“That’s very generous of you,” he murmured, shifting closer to me. “I appreciate you wanting to help me out.”

“I’m a very sweet woman,” I said, standing my ground. I was not going to be the first to break away.

“I can tell that about you,” he said, genuine amusement in his eyes. “I said to myself when I got on this elevator, ‘Sean, that is a sweet, gentle woman.’”

Sean.

He looked like a Sean. Strong, like an old-school boxer.

“That’s why my mother named me Isla.” That made exactly zero sense. My name was derived from a Scottish island, but it seemed like a good comeback to a conversation that all the way around was rooted in the ridiculous.

“Isla? That's a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He brushed my hair off of my shoulder and cupped my cheek.

Damn it. One of us needed to stop this.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be the one to lose the game and pull away.

He leaned, crowding into my space. I felt the hard length of his thigh shift against mine.

I was grateful I was still wearing my coat, so there was a barrier between my body and his. He smelled like the woods. And… was that cilantro? What the hell. It was wafting off his fingertips brushing over my cheek.

Neither of us broke eye contact. I could see the challenge in his eyes.

I was sure he saw the same determination in mine.

“Thank you,” I said, to stall.

His mouth was mere inches from mine and we stood there, the tension hanging between us.

I shifted, going up on tiptoes so I was even closer to him, wanting to show him I wasn’t going to back down.

His eyes actually darkened and I saw a spark of lust.

I felt an answering response deep in my body.

We were really going to kiss. We were going to kiss and it was going to