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She was afraid to move, just in case they hadnât. That fear was the only reason she lay atop him, her legs tangled with his. Or else she would have scrambled off his body. But she didnât dare in case the elevator began to fall again.
She sucked in a breath and held it, and his scent filled her nostrils and her head. He smelled so damn goodânot like expensive cologne that her ex had always worn. No. Ronan smelled like soap and...
A scent that was his alone.
Not only was he handsome as hell but he had to smell good, too? It wasnât fair, but she shouldnât have been surprised. Life had not been very fair to Muriel lately.
She was too positive to let that keep her down, though. She would not stay down now, either, once she was certain the elevator wasnât going to drop all the way to the bottom of the shaft and crumple like an aluminum can under a car tire.
âAre you okay?â Ronanâs voice, even deeper with concern, asked the question now.
She glanced up at his face to find his eyes open as he studied her. She shrugged, then gasped as the car creaked. Ronanâs strong arms slid around her, holding her stillâor maybe she had already tensed because heâd touched her. Either way, she was frozen with fearâof falling and of how he was making her feel.
âDonât move,â he said, his voice dropping so low that it was a deep rumble in his chest.
She had no intention of moving, but she couldnât control the frantic beating of her heart. It was pounding so hard that she felt her whole body shaking with the force of it. Hers wasnât the only one. His heart hammered in time with hers. Her breasts were crushed against his muscular chest.
âCan I breathe?â she asked, her lungs aching as she tried to control the panic making her want to pant for air.
âI donât know if we should...â he murmured, but his breath stirred her hair as he whispered the words.
A strand tangled in her lashes, but she didnât dare reach up for it. But that meant her hands stayed where they were, and she only just realized exactly where they were and what she was touching. Instinctively sheâd extended them to break her fall, and since sheâd fallen on him, her hands were on him. One was against his biceps while the other was braced on his thigh. Both muscles rippled beneath her touch, as if heâd just realized where she was touching him, too.
And his body, which had already been taut with tension, grew harder yet. Against her abdomen, she felt his erection straining the fly of his dress pants.
He must have come right from the office to see Bette, since he was still wearing a suit. In the pictures sheâd seen of him in his downtime, heâd had on jeans and a T-shirt. Not that sheâd seen that many pictures of him in his downtime. If he and his partners in the Street Legal law practice hadnât been as notorious as they were in Manhattan, he probably wouldnât have been photographed at all. But he and the others were infamous for being ruthless litigators and lovers. When they were photographed outside the courtroom, they were usually with a famous femaleâan actress or model or fashion designer...
She tried to shift her hips, so her mound wouldnât press so tightly against his cock. But he groaned. And one of his arms slid around her back as his hand grasped her hip.
Through gritted teeth, he warned her, âDo. Not. Move.â
The elevator had stopped dropping. It had even stopped making those ominous creaking noises. âI donât think itâs going to fall,â she said.
âIâm not worried about the elevator,â he replied.
âThen why are we lying on the floor afraid to move?â she asked.
He groaned again and his fingers tightened their hold. But she doubted that he was in any real painâbecause his mouth curved into a slight, naughty grin. âMaybe I was just enjoying you throwing yourself at me.â
She sucked in a breath of shock and wriggled, trying to move off him. But his hands held her too tightly, and all she managed was to grind her hips against his groin. And to rock the elevator again.
The cables creaked. But they held. The car was not going to tumble any farther down the shaft. She was not worried about dying anymore. Instead, she was worried about her reaction to Ronan Hall.
Instead of slowing down, her heart was beating even faster. Her skin was tingling and hot everywhere her body was in contact with hisâwhich was pretty much everywhere. He was so muscular, so tall and broad.
And when sheâd sucked in that breath, sheâd inhaled his scent again; it filled her head. The way he would fill her...
His erection was so long and hard. Heat rushed straight to hrt core, making her hot and wet. For him?
No. It wasnât possible. She could not be attracted to the man who had destroyed her reputation, and nearly her career and her life, as well.
âLet me go!â she demanded.
âWhere are you going?â he asked. âWeâre stuck in an elevator. So we might as well make the most of this opportunity.â The hand not clutching her hip slid up her back to her head, which he held in his palm while he pressed his mouth to hers.
As their lips connected, Muriel felt a jolt she wanted to attribute to shock. But she knew it was something elseâsomething that had her nipples tightening and heat streaking to her core: lust.
He kissed her tentatively, at first, just skimming his lips across hers. Then she gasped at another jolt of desire, and he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue inside her mouth. His kiss was hot, passionate and wild.
And that was how it made Muriel feel: hot, passionate and wild. She didnât want to desire this man, of all men. But he was so damn good-lookingânot to mention muscular and skilled.
He was a master kisserâso good that he nearly made her come with just a kiss. But then he began to touch her, too, moving his hand from her hip up her side to cup a breast.
She sucked in a breath, which pushed her breast against his palm.
He gently squeezed, and her breath hissed out between their melded lips. And he groaned in response. He pulled back slightly and moved his hand to the buttons on her sweater, easily flicking them open.
She wore a camisole beneath the sweater. But it was one of her friendâs designs, so it was super sexy with bows holding it up at the shoulders. Once heâd pushed the sweater from her shoulders, he reached for one of those bows.
If he pulled it loose, the camisole would slip down, would reveal her breast for him to see and touch...
She wanted his hands on her. She wanted him.
But she couldnât. Not really. Not after what heâd done to herâto her reputation, to her savings and to her sense of self-worth.
The only way she wanted Ronan Hall was...on his knees begging for her forgiveness. And she knew that wasnât very damn likely to happen. Ever.
Not until sheâd inflicted the same hell on him that he had put her through.
CHAPTER TWO (#u858c4dcd-0861-54a4-a32c-590ca062cd5c)
RONANâS HEAD SNAPPED back with the force of her slap. But he only grinned. Even though his cheek was stinging, that kiss had been totally worth it. He could taste her still on his lips. She was so damn sweet.
How could she taste so sweet when she was such a hard and vicious woman? Yeah, heâd needed that slap to bring him to his senses before he did something stupid, like pull that bow loose on her shoulder.
What would she do if he did that? Slap him again? Seeing her without the camisole, that would undoubtedly be worth another slap, though. He could see her tightened nipples pushing against the thin silk. She wore nothing beneath that camisole but her honey-toned skin. He wanted to close his lips around one of those distended nipples and tug at it until she cried out and begged for more.
His fingers still on that bow, he toyed with the end of it. One tug was all it would take.
But then she smacked his hand away and shoved him back with her palm against his chest. âDonât you dare!â
âDonât dare me,â he advised her. He was the kid who would have stuck his tongue on the icy flagpole with the first dare. He wouldnât have even needed to be double dared. He lifted his hand toward her shoulder again.
She jerked up her sweater and wrapped it tightly around herself, as if he would have forcibly undressed her. As if anyone would need to. On all those billboards and magazine covers, she wore barely more than her seductive smile. Usually just a few scraps of lace or silk.
âWhat game are you playing?â he asked her. She was not a modest woman, but she was a cunning one. Those forged documents proved that. âGame?â she asked, her husky voice pitched higher than usual with outrage. âYouâre the one who kissed me.â
âYou trapped us in this elevator and climbed all over me,â he pointed out. Was she trying to seduce him? Or just sexually tease him into madness?
âI fell on you,â she said. âAnd I did not trap you.â
He snorted. âI wasnât the one playing with the control panel, punching in every damn floor before you stopped it entirely.â
âI stopped it,â she said, âbecause I wanted to stop you from harassing Bette anymore.â
âIâm not going to harass Bette,â he said. For oneâSimon would kill him if he did. The guy was already furious with him over some things Ronan had said to her. Poor Simon had fallen hard for his mousy former assistant.
But then, maybe Bette wasnât that mousyâto a guy who liked the sexy librarian type.
That wasnât Ronanâs style. He didnât want someone repressed. He wanted someone as wild and adventurous and as into sex as he was.
Muriel stepped in front of the elevator doors, as if she could stop him. âNo. Youâre not talking to Bette at all anymore.â
He didnât want to talk to Bette. He didnât want to talk at all. He wanted Muriel back in his arms, her body pressed to his. She was the one, the female who might finally match his appetites in the bedroom and wherever else they might dare to do it...
âWeâre stuck here,â he reminded her. And as he said it, the elevator rocked and creaked.
And Muriel gasped and shot forwardâstraight into his arms.
âDid you fall again?â Ronan teased her. âI wouldnât think a supermodel would be as clumsy as you are.â
Despite glaring at him, she remained in his arms with hers locked around his shoulders. âDidnât you feel that? Weâre falling again.â
âIâve never fallen before,â he told her. âSo Iâm not about to fall now...â And especially not for a man-eater like Muriel Sanz.
Then he realized what she meant even before she murmured, âI was talking about the elevator.â Then she started laughing, and as she laughed, she stepped back and dropped her arms from around his shoulders. âI wasnât talking about falling for you. You canât believe I would actually fall for you.â
He narrowed his eyes and glared at her. She made it sound ridiculous that she could care for him. Plenty of other women claimed that they had. But then, he hadnât had the relationship with those other women that he had with her. Actually, he hadnât ever had a real relationship with anyone.
Just sex...
And he would like to have that with her, even though she was trying to destroy his career. Because from that kiss, he knew it would be good between them. Hell, it would be better than good; it might be great.
He hadnât had great in a whileâprobably because every time heâd been with a woman the past few months, heâd imagined that woman was Muriel and heâd been disappointed when heâd realized she wasnât.
âI would never make the mistake of thinking you could love me,â he assured her. âI donât think youâre any more capable of really falling in love than I am.â
âI was married,â she said, âuntil you ended that.â
âYou ended that with your cheating.â
She lifted her hand, but before she could swing it toward his face, he caught her wrist. Through gritted teeth, she told him, âI did not cheat.â
He snorted again, almost amused over her show of righteous indignation. She could be one of those models who easily crossed over into acting; she had the skills. âSo how did your ex find so many witnesses who testified otherwise then?â
Her green eyes widened. âMy ex...? He found the witnesses? I thought you didâyou or that PR firm.â
âYeah, that was your second mistake when you forged those notes that supposedly came from my case files,â he said. âYou made it sound as though I found the witnesses.â He shook his head. âAnd that wasnât true.â
She glared at him. âWhat those witnesses said wasnât true. They perjured themselves and you knew it.â
âAnd that was your first mistake,â he said. He stepped closer now, pressing his chest up against her breasts. âTrying to blame me for your bad choices.â
âBad choices?â she repeated. âMy only bad choice was getting married in the first place.â
He nodded. âIn that, we are in complete agreement. Marriage is always a mistake.â His parentsâ marriage had showed him that. Their constant fighting was why heâd run away from home for a while in his teenage years. âPeople arenât meant to be monogamous.â
âMany people are,â she said.
He shook his head now. âNot people like you and me, Muriel.â He skimmed his fingertips along her jaw, down her throat to push her sweater from one shoulder. Then he toyed with that bow again. He was so tempted to tug it loose. So damn tempted.
His fingers twitched and the bow began to loosen. Then the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.
Muriel stepped back through the doors. But as she did, she reached out and struck a button on the control panel. The doors closed as she turned and ran down the hall.
Ronan wasnât sure what floor they had stopped on, or if it had even been her floor, or if she had just really wanted to get away from him. Before he could look at the numbers above the doors, the elevator began to move againâheading downâuntil it stopped in the lobby.
He hesitated a moment before he stepped through the open doors. Heâd changed his mind about trying to apologize to Bette again. It was probably better for Simon if Ronan didnât talk to her at all. He suspected sheâd already told him all that she knew. No. If he wanted to get to the bottom of the documents that had been given to the bar association, he needed to talk to Muriel again. But he would have to do that another timeâbecause if he tracked her down now, after that kiss and seeing her nipples pushing against that camisole, he would do a hell of a lot more than talk to her.
* * *
Legs trembling, heart pounding, Muriel leaned back against her apartment door. Sheâd turned the deadbolt, so even if heâd followed her, he would not be able to get inside her place. But she didnât think heâd followed her. The elevator doors had closed before heâd had a chance to step through them.
But he could track her down...especially now that he knew where sheâd moved after the divorce. While the building was nice, her apartment was smallâmuch smaller than her old place. Maybe Ronan didnât realize she lived here; maybe heâd thought she was just visiting Bette.
Then she should have gotten off on another floor...because she wouldnât put it past him to knock on every door until he found her.
He was furious with her for reporting him to the bar association. Why was he so angry? Because heâd been caught? Or because he hadnât suborned perjury, as heâd tried to claim?
She could understand his anger if heâd done nothing wrong. That was how sheâd felt over her divorce proceedings. Sheâd been maligned in court and in the media, and she hadnât done anything of which sheâd been accused. She had definitely not cheated.
Sheâd taken her vows seriously. Sheâd been monogamous. That was all she knew. Even before sheâd gotten married, sheâd never dated more than one man at a time. And since the disastrous divorce, she hadnât even started dating again.
Maybe that was why Ronan Hall had affected her so much. Or maybe it hadnât been him at all. Maybe it had been the elevator malfunctioning and making her fear that they were about to plunge to their deaths. With her emotions so heightened, it was no wonder she might feel attracted to him.
And it wasnât as if he wasnât good-looking and sexy...
But still, she should hate him, not desire him. And she did hate him.
But what if he wasnât responsible for those witnesses coming forward? What if those memos from his Street Legal law practice had been forged, as heâd claimed?
No. She couldnât believe that. She knew every one of those witnesses whoâd testified. While they hadnât all been close friends of hers, they were acquaintances. They wouldnât have lied about her without some serious coercion. Arte wouldnât have done that. He hadnât been the man sheâd thought he was, but he wasnât a monster or she wouldnât have married him in the first place. Heâd once been so sweet and charming.
No. Ronan Hall was the monster. And she would prove it. In case those memos werenât sufficient evidence, though, she needed to find more.
Ronan had been attracted to her, too. And she didnât think it was because heâd been scared. No. He was attracted to her because of how she looked. Her looks were whyâdespite her reputation being smearedâher career hadnât suffered like sheâd worried it would. Magazines and designers said she sold copy and clothes, maybe even more so since she had become so notorious.
But she hadnât wanted to be notorious. And she was mortified that so many people believed those lies about her and that her grandparentsâthe sweet couple whoâd raised herâhad heard those lies. About affairs and orgies and sex parties...
