The Tycoon's Reluctant Cinderella. Therese Beharrie

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       CHAPTER ONE

      ‘PLEASE HOLD THE ELEVATOR!’

      Callie McKenzie almost shouted the words as she ran to the closing doors. She was horribly late, despite her rushed efforts to get dressed after her shift at the hotel had ended. She wouldn’t be making a very good impression on the big boss if she arrived after he did, so she was taking a chance on the elevator, ignoring her usual reservations about the small box.

      Relief shot through her when she saw a hand hold the elevator doors and she hurried in, almost colliding with the person who had helped her. She had meant to say thank you immediately, but as she looked at him her mouth dried, taking her words away.

      Callie thought he might be the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Dark hair sat tousled on his head, as though it had travelled through whirlwinds to get there, and set off the sea-blue-green of his eyes. He was a full head taller than her, so that she had to look up to appreciate the striking features of his face. Each angle was shaped perfectly—as though it had been sculpted, she thought, with the intention of causing every woman who looked at it to be caught in involuntary—or voluntary—attraction.

      Her eyes fell to his lips as they curved into a smile and she felt her heart flutter. It was the kind of smile that transformed his entire face, giving it a sexy, casual expression that stood out against the sophistication of his perfectly tailored suit. It took her a while to realise that she was amusing him by staring, and she forced herself to snap out of it.

      ‘Thank you,’ she said, aware of the husky undertone her evaluation of him had brought to her voice.

      His smile broadened. ‘No problem. Which floor would you like?’

      Callie almost slapped her hand against her forehead at the deep baritone of his voice. Was there anything about the man that wasn’t sexy?

      She cleared her throat. ‘Ground floor, please.’

      ‘Then it’s already been selected,’ he said, and pressed the button to close the elevator doors. ‘So you’re also going to the event downstairs, then?’

      She frowned. ‘Yes. How did you know?’

      ‘Well, I’d like to think that this hotel doesn’t require its guests to dress up in such formal wear to have supper.’

      He gestured to her clothing, and Callie once again resisted the urge to slap herself on the head. She was wearing one of her mother’s formal gowns—one of the few Callie didn’t think was absolutely ridiculous—and nodded.

      ‘Of course. Sorry, it’s been a long day.’ Callie wished she believed that was the reason for her lame responses, but she knew better. She wasn’t sure why, but he threw her off balance.

      ‘I can relate. This isn’t the most ideal way to spend the evening.’

      Callie was about to agree when the elevator came to an abrupt stop. The lights went out barely a second later and Callie lost her balance, knocking her head into the back wall. The world spun for a bit, and then she felt strong arms hold her and lower her to the ground.

      ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, and Callie had to take a moment to catch her breath before she answered.

      She wasn’t sure if she was dizzy because she was in his arms or because of the blow to her head. Or, she thought as the situation finally caught up to her, if it was her very real fear of being trapped in enclosed spaces that had affected her breathing.

      ‘I’m fine.’ Her breath hitched, but she forced it out slowly. ‘I’m sure it’s just a bump on the head.’ Inhale, exhale, she reminded herself.

      ‘Are you sure? You’re breathing quite heavily.’

      Her eyes had now acclimatised to the darkness, and she could see the concern etched on his face. ‘I’m a little...claustrophobic.’

      ‘Ah.’ He nodded his head and stood. ‘The electricity must have gone off, but I’m sure it won’t take long before someone realises we’re here.’

      He removed his phone from his pocket and tapped against the screen. A light shone dimly between them but Callie could only see his face, disproportionately large in the poor light. She felt a strange mixture of disappointment and satisfaction that she couldn’t make out his features as clearly as she had before, but she did manage to make out the scowl on his face.

      ‘I don’t have any reception, so I can’t call anyone to help.’

      ‘You could press that button over there,’ she said helpfully, pointing to the red emergency button on the control panel.

      Her breathing was coming a little easier—as long as she didn’t think about the fact that she was trapped. She wanted to stand up, but didn’t trust herself to be steady. And the last thing she wanted was to fall into the arms of her companion for a second time within a few minutes.

      ‘Of course I can.’

      He pressed the emergency button and quickly conversed with the static voice that came through the intercom. He’d been right. There had been a power outage in the entire grid, and the hotel’s generator had for some reason gone off as well. They were assured that it was being sorted out, but that it might take up to thirty minutes before they would be rescued.

      He sighed and sank down next to her, and Callie squeezed her eyes shut. She thought it might make his proximity—and her fear—less overwhelming. Instead, the smell of him filled her senses—a musky male scent that almost made her sigh in satisfaction. She swore she could hear her heart throbbing in her chest, but she told herself it was just because of the confines of the elevator. She opened her eyes and looked at him, and before she could become mesmerised by his looks—even in the dim light he was handsome—forced herself to speak.

      ‘I wonder what’s going on downstairs. There must be mass panic.’ She couldn’t quite keep the scorn from colouring her voice.

      ‘I take it that you’re not a fan of tonight’s celebrations,’ he said wryly.

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