Heat It Up Read Free

button. The ringing died immediately, replaced by the sound of static. Becker leaned into the speaker. “Hello, anyone there?” A moment later, a voice responded. “Hi there, folks, what seems to be the problem?”
    “The elevator stopped on the third floor. It might be stuck.”
    “All right, just stay put. Let me see what the trouble is.”
    “Stay put?” Jane echoed as the static crackled and disappeared. “Where the hell else would we go?” Her suit jacket suddenly felt far too tight, her skin super hot.
    Becker shrugged. “He’s probably scared we’ll try to climb out the ceiling panel and rappel down the cables.”
    His attempt at humor fell flat, mostly because Jane was barely listening to him. She glanced wildly around the car, measuring it in her mind. Five by five, she guessed. Maybe a couple of feet more. Oh God.
    “You okay?”
    Her head jerked up. “What? Yeah. Sure. I’m great. I’m wonderful.” Her eyes ping-ponged around the tiny space. “Why isn’t he answering us?” she finally burst out.
    Becker came to her side, concern in his eyes. “Hey. Hey .” He touched her arm. “Don’t worry, okay?
    I’m sure they’ll have it up and running in a few minutes. Fifteen, max.” Sweat bloomed on her forehead. “Fifteen minutes? We can’t survive in this teeny little box for that long! What if we run out of air? What if—” She quit talking, her heart pounding so fast she feared it might stop.
    “I take it you’re not good with small spaces,” Becker said with a sigh.
    She sucked in some oxygen. “It’s a problem,” she admitted.
    “How the hell did you get to the eleventh floor then? You didn’t ride the elevator up?” She shook her head, pressing her hands to her sides because they were beginning to sweat. And shake. “I took the stairs.”
    “You climbed ten flights of stairs to—”
    He was interrupted by the sound of static again. Jane’s entire body flooded with relief as a voice filled the car.
    “Folks, you still there?”
    “Oh, for fuck’s sake, where else would we go?” she muttered.
    Looking like he was smothering a smile, Becker moved back to the intercom. “Still here,” he said.
    “It seems we’re experiencing some technical difficulties,” the man said apologetically. “The repairman is on his way over to take a look.”
    Jane’s heart took off like a terrified horse in a thunderstorm. Oh shit.
    “Shouldn’t take too long to get you folks out of there,” the man—no, the devil —added. “Half hour, hour tops.”
    Jane promptly dropped to the ground and stuck her head between her knees. She sucked in shallow breaths, knowing she was making a fool of herself, but unable to stop the terror spiraling inside her.
    “Okay, thanks. Keep us updated please,” Becker said into the intercom. And then he was by her side, on his knees beside her. “Jane. Jane, look at me.”
    Miserably, she raised her head, ashamed of the tears prickling her eyelids.
    “Just breathe, okay? Breathe with me.”
    She opened her mouth, but when she tried to inhale, her throat tightened. “There’s no air,” she wheezed. “No. Air.”
    She grew light-headed, her cheeks so hot she knew they must look like two enormous apples. And her heart…oh God, she really was going to have a heart attack. In this miniscule elevator car with no air and walls that were closing in on her and—
    A pair of strong arms wrapped around her and suddenly she found herself in Thomas Becker’s lap.
    His hands cupped her scorching cheeks, those brown eyes blazing with intensity. “Jane, look at me .
    You’re okay. We’re okay. We’ll get out of here in no time, all right? And there is plenty of air, so you really need to stop hyperventilating before you pass out.”
    Pass out? She was more worried about her heart bursting right out of her chest. As panic spiraled through her, she buried her face against Thomas Becker’s sturdy chest and started to cry.

    Fucking wonderful. Not only was he