Jase appeared annoyed by the inconvenience but unconcerned. If Jase isn’t worried, then I shouldn’t be either. Her brain told her body this but her body refused to listen. The quaking in her hands threatened to take over her whole body. The lift was so small—less than a woman’s arm span.
The analytical part of Debra knew the area couldn’t be getting any smaller, but the walls seemed closer. How can Jase stay so calm? His head rested back against the wall, his eyes shut, so she turned to study him.
Despite the end of his rugby playing days, he still appeared in good shape. Her gaze travelled up and down his reposed body. And up and down again. Very good shape.
She allowed her gaze to linger on his very attractive face, acknowledging the bump on his nose, the small scar under one eye, his square chin. Each feature accentuated his masculinity.
She closed her own eyes but nausea crept closer. She had to keep thinking about something else, not being locked in this box.
I’m trying, I’m trying,
she screamed inside. Then concentrate on Jase came a swift response. She refocused on the man opposite. Her stomach’s urge to move was less urgent.
Debra’s look slipped. The darkness of his jacket emphasised the breadth of his shoulders. Crisp white linen stretched tight across his chest. The loosened tie and open button at his neck exposed a peek of extra skin. She’d regained control of the churning in her stomach but her heart rate accelerated.
Short, sharp pants drew oxygen to her lungs as her gaze dropped. She ordered her eyes closed but they kept popping open again to feast on his physique. A trembling hand rose to her lips.
What’s the matter with me?
She’d seen him bare-legged before, sprinting around a rugby paddock more times than she could name. But of course, that had been on television. This was different. If she leaned forward just a little, she could reach out and touch him. Touch his thick thighs, run her hand up until...
Jumping to her feet she spun around, desperately searching for an escape before her wayward thoughts crucified her. “How long are we going to be stuck in here?” Thank goodness her voice sounded strong. Didn’t it?
Jase’s head rolled against the wall and he looked up through narrowed eyes. “It’ll take a technician at least thirty minutes to get here, assuming there is one immediately available.” He shrugged. “Then, who knows how long it might take to actually get the damned doors open. Relax. We’re not going anywhere in a hurry.”
How could he suggest such a thing? Debra almost yelled back. She couldn’t relax. They were stuck. Nerves were already hiked up to fever pitch. Had she been alone, or with anyone else in the world she might have been coping better—but to be locked in here with her fantasy hero? She bit her lip so hard blood fouled her mouth.
A moan almost escaped but she managed to quell its sound. She stood huddled in the corner, unidentifiable waves of emotion engulfing her. Her arms crept around herself to ward off whatever threat might materialise. This whole situation was just another example of how cruel life is if your name is Debra Laurie.
Vibration at her hip initially failed to register her phone was ringing. Scrambling to dig it out of her pocket she yelled a greeting.
“What’s wrong?” her twin brother demanded.
Debra ignored Jase’s scrutiny of her state-of-the-art mobile. It was not the type of phone most minimum-wage-earning waitresses would own. Instead she clutched Paul’s voice to her ear like a drowning man might clutch a lifeline.
Talking to her brother would distract her; make her forget her sick stomach. Make her forget the other silly thoughts circling inside her head.
“Oh Paul. Thank God. I’m stuck in a lift. The doors won’t open.” The connection between the twins had most likely alerted Paul and instigated his call. He wouldn’t have needed the wobble in her voice to guess her fragile state of mind.
Debra almost smiled as her alpha-male brother immediately took control, demanding details, starting with her whereabouts.
“I’m at Riversleigh.”
“Riversleigh? What the hell are you doing at Riversleigh?”
Debra turned her head and pressed the phone against her ear, hoping Paul’s astonished yelp hadn’t carried to Jase.
“Never mind. This has to be one of mother’s schemes, right?”
“Oh yes.”
“So what’s happening? Are they working on the lift? How soon do they anticipate getting you out?”
“Probably a couple of hours.”
“What’s wrong, Deb? You can handle a couple of hours, can’t you? Sit down and relax. Use the time to plan our strategy for the merger with Collins, Inc.”
Her internment momentarily forgotten, Debra’s voice rose to an excited squeak. “You got it?” Paul’s trip to Singapore had been successful.
“Nailed it. I wanted to surprise you.”
“I knew you could do it.”
Paul laughed. “Yeah, we’re all feeling pretty happy right now. The team did really well. But Deb, I’ve only got about another five minutes before I have to turn my phone off. They’ve already called my flight twice, but something made me ring. I’ll talk as long as I can so you’ll have less time alone.”
“I’m not alone. The operations manager is here, too.”
“Oh, I assumed you were alone when I sensed your anxiety.” She could tell he was puzzled why his often overbearing sister should feel anxious in anyone’s company. Then his tone changed. “You’re not concerned about being alone with this guy, are you? Who is he? What’s his name?”
Debra’s glance showed Jase making no attempt to disguise his interest in the one-sided conversation. Her concern about him was far overshadowed by her distress about herself and the ridiculous way her body was responding to this confinement.
“Who is he?” Paul snapped. “I know Murphy is in charge, but who the hell is the operations manager of Riversleigh?”
“Jason McEwen.” She refused to acknowledge her companion’s faint smile and raised eyebrows.
There was a long silence in her ear before she heard a long drawn out, “Ahh,” followed by another long silence. “I remember you writing fan letters to him when we were teenagers.”
Oh God! Why did he have to remember? Now was not the time for him to remind her about her girlish obsession with the flying number eight All Black. She was desperately trying to relegate Jase as some ordinary bloke in the street.
Unable to neither respond without giving Jase some idea of the conversation, nor leap through the ether to rip out Paul’s voice box, Debra had to endure the speculation in his voice. Sweat gathered on her forehead, the phone became slippery to her touch at his little chuckle.
“Deb, I have to go. I’ll ring as soon as I’m inside the terminal at Wellington. You’ll be okay, won’t you?”
Despite his teasing, Debra heard his concern. “You’ll ring as soon as you land?”
Paul reaffirmed and a click severed the connection.
Jase was watching her. She could feel his gaze although she took a moment before she trusted herself to look back.
“Nice phone.”
“My brother gave it to me.” The second the words were out of her mouth, she swore under her breath. She should have said something else to hide any wealth being attached to her family.
Oh well, time didn’t matter so much anymore, this subterfuge would soon end. Jase suspecting she wasn’t who she pretended to be would have no bearing on the end result.
Talking to Paul had calmed her. His news of the merger they’d been working toward for over two years thrilled her, but now the awareness of her immediate situation slammed her back into a nervous dither.
“Do you think the technician has arrived yet?” She dug at the crack of the doors with her fingernails, trying to force them apart. When they wouldn’t budge she banged her clenched fists against the doors.
“It’s only been a few minutes, Debbie. Come on.” Jase patted the floor beside him. “Sit down and relax.”
His beautiful smile didn’t relax her—it hiked up her alertness to an even higher level. He slipped off his jacket and folding it, laid it on the floor. “The time will pass. You can tell me the story of your life.”
His eyebrows shot up at the haughty tilt of her head. “Or I could tell you the story of mine.”
Debra slid down beside him. Not close beside him, she even drew his jacket aside so their arms wouldn’t touch. “I’m sure your life has been much more exciting,” she murmured.
If talking to Paul had relieved some of her anxiety, perhaps talking to Jase would, too. Anything rather than admit being locked in here was scaring her silly. Her stomach felt like a floating cork in the midst of a cyclone and her heart seemed to think it was fuelling a marathon run.
This morning’s deodorant and subtle touch of perfume must have long ceased to cope. But she refused to contemplate whether this was a claustrophobic response or something else entirely driving her body.
“It’s very hot in here.” She tugged the damp shirt sticking to her chest. “Do we have enough oxygen? Could we suffocate?”
Jase didn’t make fun of her concern. He assured her the lift wasn’t airtight and moving closer he pointed out the trapdoor in the ceiling. “We could make a break through there and try to get to the second floor but I don’t think we’ve reached a point of desperation.”
“How long has it been now?”
“Stop thinking about the time. We’re going to be okay.” He smiled that beautiful smile again. His eyes actually twinkled. “You were going to tell me all about yourself.”
He was right. She just needed something else to concentrate on. She wasn’t frightened. They’d be rescued soon. No need to worry. Her fingers clung to each other. “I thought we decided your life had been more exciting,” she countered.
“Okay, you asked for it. What would you like to know?”
Everything. Somehow she stopped the word from escaping. “What made you choose the hospitality industry as a career?” She’d surprised him. She was sure most people went directly to his rugby career, but she already knew quite a bit about his time as an All Black. She knew about the devastating injury that had ended his brilliant career. She was more curious to know everything else.
What a story-teller he turned out to be. She couldn’t help laughing at one of his probable tall tales of his university days.
Hearing stories of his experiences in different hotels over the years made her realise he had indeed done his apprenticeship before rising to the management level within the industry.
He was full of praise for his parents and paid tribute to their foresightedness. “I’d have been right up the creek without a paddle if they’d let me do what I wanted.”
“And what was that?”
“Only play rugby. That was all I ever wanted.”
She glimpsed his despair as his fingers lifted to massage his shoulder. Her face burned as a picture of her fingers kneading that spot flashed into her head. A sharp shake of her head dislodged the errant thought.
Before anything more ridiculous surfaced she needed to focus on his voice, not his looks. “Are your folks still farming?”
He chuckled. “I suppose you could say so. They’re farming kids now.”
Debra’s eyes boggled.
“My brother’s a minister. His church is here in Riversleigh but his flock is all around the district. He and his wife started fostering children about ten years ago. They just can’t say no to anyone who needs them. Things were getting crazy. They had no room, but kids kept coming. Something had to give.”
A lopsided smile played around his lips. “I’m not sure who’s idea the home was to start with, but the hall at Colac Bay came up for sale about the same time Mum and Dad retired from the farm. They got their heads together with Tim and Maata and decided on a retirement plan.” He spread his hands and grinned. “Voila, a children’s home.”
He grinned again. “It’s a hell of a lot of work but they relish the challenge. I think we have about twelve or fourteen kids at the moment.”
His choice of pronoun intrigued Debra. “So you help out?” she guessed.
Colour darkened his face. He shrugged.
“I imagine you would be an excellent role model for them.” Debra hid a smile as he squirmed a little and his face got even ruddier.
“Compared to the others, I do bugger all.”
A twinge of guilt trickled through Debra. Compared to others, he said? If his input equalled bugger all—and she was certain he was playing down his role in this selfless enterprise—what did she do for other people? People less fortunate than herself?
In comparison with what Jase and his family appeared to be involved with, her contribution to the world was minimal.
I keep a lot of people in employment,
argued a voice inside her head. The company donated huge amounts to charity. But suddenly, that seemed so trifling and insignificant. So easy.
What’s happening to me?
Debra frowned at the steel box around them, the last couple of days flitting through her mind. Riversleigh is turning me to mush.
Feelings of friendship toward Meg and the other waitresses, an unheard of emotion prior to arriving here, confused her enough. Add to that these unacceptable thoughts about the man beside her.
Debra shook her head, turning her face aside, lest he recognise her inner turmoil. And as if that wasn’t enough to bewilder the hard-nosed businesswoman, she now doubted her whole contribution to life.