Shadows At Sunset Read Free Page B

made of sterner stuff than that, and she’d kept the others firm.
    Coltrane punched in a row of numbers on the security keypad by the door, too fast for Jilly to read them, then pushed the door open, holding it for her. She walked past him, too close again, and gave him her cool, dismissive smile. “Thanks for your help, but I can take it from here.”
    â€œThe elevator won’t come without the security code,” he said. “We’re on the thirty-first floor, it’s a hell of a long walk down, and when you get to the basement you’ll find the door is locked and you’ll just have to climb back up again. Besides, there’s the little problem of the parking garage.”
    â€œI’ve got my cell phone—I can call a taxi.”
    â€œYou’ll still have to come back here for your car sooner or later. Unless you want to just go buy a new one with Daddy’s money.”
    His easygoing contempt startled her, and she glared at him. “I’m surprised you don’t know that I don’t live off my daddy’s money, as you so sweetly put it. Maybe you’re not as involved in his affairs as Dean thought.”
    Coltrane simply smiled. “It’s your choice, Jilly. You want to spend the night wandering up and down thirty-one flights of stairs, or do you want my help?”
    Being trapped in a stairwell seemed vastly superior to being stuck with Coltrane in one of the bronze, art deco elevators Jackson had brought to the Meyer Building, but she wasn’t about to say so.
    â€œCall the elevator,” she said, resigned. She was back in the tumbrel again, heading toward Madame La Guillotine.
    He punched another rapid set of numbers on the keypad, and the doors opened immediately. She had no idea why the elevator would already be on their floor, but she wasn’t about to ask. It was going to be hard enough to step into that bronze cage with her brother’s nemesis.
    She didn’t like heights, she didn’t like enclosed spaces, and she certainly didn’t like men like Coltrane. Tall, gorgeous, self-assured men who knew just how intimidating they could be. It was a subtle, sexual intimidation, the worst sort, and Jilly was usually invulnerable to that sort of thing. But for some reason she still didn’t want to get in the enclosed cage with him.
    She had no choice. He waited, watching her, and she could no longer see the expression in his eyes. She walked into the elevator, hearing the jeering crowds of the angry peasants. He followed her in, and the doors slid shut with a subtle hiss, as Jilly steeled herself to ride to her doom.

2
    J ackson Meyer’s daughter was scared shitless of him. It was a fascinating realization, and Coltrane wished he knew a way to slow the rapid descent of the elevator, to stall it completely, anything to keep her with him for just a little bit longer.
    He’d watched her while she slept, absolutely astonished at how far off the mark he’d been about her. He’d let his opinion of Dean influence his expectations about Meyer’s other children; that, and stories he’d heard about Rachel-Ann’s voracious appetite for drugs and sex. He’d assumed Jilly Meyer would be cut from the same self-indulgent, self-destructive cloth. He hadn’t met Rachel-Ann yet but Jilly was as different from Dean Meyer as he could have possibly imagined.
    In a land of California blondes she was dark, with an unfashionable mane of thick brown hair, a big, strong body and endless legs. She was no delicate flower—she had a physical presence that was both aggressive and arousing, even as she tried to make herself disappear into the corner of the elevator. He wondered if she was scared of heights or of him.
    He wouldn’t have thought she’d have the sense to be frightened of him. He’d done his absolute best to present himself as a laid-back and easygoing, slightly unscrupulous Southern Californian. No