Fernando - Bad Boy Love (Bad Boy Love Series Book 1) (4 page)

Gwen pressed her back against the metallized wall and stared at the number above the door as the elevator rose toward the top of the skyscraper. Fernando was standing next to her, trying not to fidget, but she had worse problems than him being nervous about his job interview.

Like controlling her breath. Or willing her legs to stop trembling. Heck, leaving the elevator alive and in one piece would be more than she could ask for. Since the moment she’d parked her car at the end of the block and spotted the tall building, her trepidation had grown with every step.

Of course his appointment had to be on the thirty-fifth floor. No way to take the stairs and arrive in time.

Twenty-three.

Twenty-four.

Twenty-five.

She shuddered inside, carefully regulating her breathing so she didn’t start hyperventilating.

Twenty-six.

Twenty-seven.

Why couldn’t this thing go faster?

Despite being only the two of them in the elevator, Fernando’s presence made it seem full. She inhaled his unique scent, his cologne mixing with his natural masculine smell, and she didn’t know what she was more afraid of: being in the elevator, or the way her body responded to his presence in the tiny space.

Heat rolled off his body in waves, luring her to give up the relative safety of the wall against her back and lurch directly into his arms. She might have done it, if it wasn’t for the three feet of daunting space she’d have to traverse to reach him. With nothing else to do than to control her breathing, she became so aware of his body, his breathing, his slightest movement, the hair on her arms stood on end.

Gwen closed her eyes for a moment, willing the image of the closed elevator to go away and conjured up a wide-open space at the beach. When Fernando tapped his foot on the floor, her eyes fluttered open.

Thirty-one.

Thirty-two.

Three more floors to go. She’d almost reached her breaking point of being able to stand her ground and remain professional when the elevator car finally slowed and came to a stop. She released her breath and didn’t even wait for the doors to completely open before she squeezed through the opening and into the hallway.

She took a few deep breaths and looked back at Fernando, whose nerves were too frayed to notice her anguish. The interview was for a general courier position, and she thought it was a good entry-level position for him, where he could get used to working nine-to-five workdays, and in time, prove himself capable of more responsibility.

Fernando approached the receptionist, and moments later, a platinum blonde woman in her fifties with perfectly manicured fingernails and a figure-hugging dark blue business suit stepped into the waiting area. She raised an eyebrow at the sight of Gwen and ushered them both back to her office in a speed that Gwen hadn’t thought was possible on five-inch-heels.

The woman introduced herself as the human resource manager and cut right to the chase. “Mr. Garcia, I see from your resume that you didn’t finish high school,” Mrs. Samuels said, tapping French tips on her desk.

Gwen felt sorry for him, but also admiration when he met the woman’s eyes and answered her truthfully. “No, ma’am. I did not. Circumstances got away from me, but I’m trying to get my life turned around. Getting a job is my first step.”

Mrs. Samuels didn’t seem impressed, and it took all of Gwen’s self-control to keep her mouth shut. The interview continued with the human resource manager pointing out Fernando’s faults and lack of experience time and again.

They really should hire someone with at least a faint idea of psychology and politeness
.

“Mr. Garcia, I’m afraid this position…well, you’re not what we are looking for. This is not a good fit for you.” She stood up, intending to end the interview and send them on their way. Gwen had been sitting on pins and needles during the entire interview and now couldn’t hold back.

“Mrs. Samuels, if you would only give Mr. Garcia a chance to prove himself. I can vouch for…”

The woman looked down her nose at Gwen. “What? You can vouch for a criminal? What are you, his probation officer?”

Gwen stood up then, meeting the woman’s stare head on. “Actually, I am, and I happen to be open-minded enough to realize people can change. And when they’re in the process of doing that, they work their asses off to prove themselves. It’s called a win-win.”

Mrs. Samuels sniffed. “Well, he’ll have to do his changing elsewhere. The board would have my head on a platter if–”

“Then maybe your company shouldn’t have your name listed as potential employers if your board has that mindset,” Gwen shot back.

The HR director’s eyes shot daggers at her. “We do hire those with minor bumps in their road. Not…” she sneered in Fernando’s direction, “gang members who could put our employees’ lives in danger.”

Fernando stepped forward. “I’d never–”

“Never what, Mr. Garcia?” Mrs. Samuels interrupted looking down at Fernando’s file. “You’d never steal? Beat someone up?” She tossed the folder on her desk. “I think that proves otherwise. Now, I have other interviews. Please see yourselves out.”

Gwen clenched her hands into fists and nodded at Fernando tightly. “Let’s go.”

They walked back to the elevator in silence, and with every step, Gwen grew more concerned. She knew about Fernando’s volatile temper from their meetings, and right now, every wave of anger rolling off of him constricted her heart. If she could only do something to cheer him up.

She wanted to put her hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but that probably wouldn’t be her brightest idea. Instead, she turned to him. “Hey. You should be thanking the fates you don’t have to work for that woman.”

“What an arrogant bitch.” His eyes turned dark with fury as he continued, “It’s always like this. Nobody wants to employ someone like me. No diploma. No experience. And once they see my criminal record, they believe they have the right to treat me like shit. Can’t get me out of their offices fast enough.”

“Better opportunities will come around,” she said in an effort to brighten his bad mood.

“Not for me.” He launched forward and stabbed repeatedly at the elevator button before shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “This whole thing makes no sense. Finding a job is part of my probation, but anyone with any sense knows that nobody will hire me. Nobody.”

Gwen physically felt him closing up and giving in to his anger and despair. Suddenly a cold shiver ran down her spine. What if he did something stupid in his current state of mind?

“Fernando–” she began, just as the elevator doors opened.

“Just forget it. Thanks for trying to help. But just…forget it.”

She mechanically followed him into the elevator, too concerned about his mood to ask him if he’d mind walking down the stairs. When the doors closed she realized her mistake, but it was too late. Her heart sped up, and her palms grew damp as she forced herself to think of anything but the fact that she had to stay in a steel coffin for the next few minutes, dangling hundreds of feet over solid concrete.

Fernando was oblivious to her distress, muttering curses under his breath. Gwen pushed her back against the cool metal wall and concentrated on her breathing, her eyes again fixated on the lit up numbers, counting them down in her head.

Twenty-six. Twenty-five. Twenty-four.

Gwen gasped and stumbled forward, grasping for the rail as the elevator car came to a jarring stop. Fernando cursed. A second later the lights went out with a flicker and Gwen squealed with panic.

I’m going to die! The walls are…there’s not enough oxygen in here…why isn’t it moving?

Meanwhile, the emergency lights had come on, bathing the confined space with a dim light.

Fernando looked at her, concern apparent on his face. “Hey, you okay?” When she didn’t answer, he reached out to her shoulder, and the unexpected contact caused her to cry out again. Her heart hammered in her throat as fear mixed with desire, a heady mixture that blindsided her.

“Why isn’t it moving?” she asked in a thready voice she hated.

“Don’t know. I’m sure it’s nothing. You okay?”

Gwen tried to keep the creeping panic at bay, but as the seconds ticked by she knew she’d soon lose the battle – lest for a miracle. Her treacherous mind filled with thoughts of the cables snapping, plummeting them into certain death. No – she could do better than that. She would not panic. In a few moments, the doors would open again, and she’d step out of this cage onto safe ground. Open space.

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious. This happens all the time. In a few minutes, we’ll be out of here.”

What was meant as a consolation only heightened her panic. “Minutes?” she shrieked.

Fernando touched her shoulder again, and she jumped at his touch. Every time they made contact, bolts of desire coursed through her body, making the all-encompassing terror take a backseat. She wasn’t sure though, which was better.

“Let me see if the phone is working.” Fernando picked up the emergency phone and was connected to someone on the ground level. “We’re stuck between the twenty-fourth and twenty-third floors.”

Gwen listened, silently praying someone had flipped the wrong switch and would get them moving again. Immediately. But when Fernando hung up the phone a few seconds later and shook his head, her heart plummeted.

“There’s something wrong with the electrical system. The man from the elevator company has been paged and should be on site in ten minutes or so.”

“Ten minutes?” she parroted as panic rose again. Her legs gave out, and she sank to the floor, hugging her arms around her knees. A meltdown was the last thing she needed. Not alone with the man who made her melt in different ways.

“Yeah, we’ll be out of here before you even notice. Why don’t you try to relax?” He sat down beside her, making her overly aware of his presence. The waves of anger had stopped rolling off of him, and instead, she could sense his honest concern for her.

“
Relax?” she hissed. “We’re twenty-four floors up and stuck in a metal box.”

“I know, but–” The phone rang, and before the sound even registered in Gwen’s foggy brain, Fernando had jumped up to answer it. She didn’t even try to figure out what was said on the other end of the line. What did it matter if she died now or a few minutes later?

Fernando sat back down, a few inches closer this time. “That was the man from the elevator company. He said it would probably be around half an hour before they can get us down.”

“Half an hour?” Gwen wanted to jump up, but her legs wouldn’t obey. “No, they need to get us out now. Now!” The panic gradually took over every last one of her cells, and her breathing became ragged. The walls were closing in on her, and a huge weight constricted her chest, making it hard to fill her lungs with much-needed oxygen. Taking a deep breath was out of the question, so she resorted to fast shallow ones, which didn’t help. Her field of vision narrowed down until she fixated on the tiny gap between the elevator doors. If she only could force them apart.

You can do this. The walls are not moving. Breathe, Gwen. In. Out. Slowly. In. Count to five. Out. Count to five.

She was so focused on staving off a full-blown panic attack, she hadn’t noticed Fernando had moved to kneel in front of her and was now running his hands up and down her arms. Sparks ignited, and a different kind of shiver ran down her spine and heat pooled in her core. In a daze, she licked her dry lips and looked at him. In the dim glow of the emergency light, she could barely make out his features, but nevertheless, his presence gave her some comfort.

“What’s wrong? Are you ill?”

“No. I’m fi-fi-fine,” she stammered, hoping he’d continue to stroke her arms. She needed him to keep her panic at bay, but at the same time, she didn’t know how long she could endure his touch without throwing herself into his arms. Against his chest.

“You’re not fine.” He lifted a hand to her forehead. “You’re clammy and breathing too fast. Are you afraid?”

“No. No. I’m fine.” The lie barely left her lips.

His laugh was harsh. “Yeah, tell me something I might believe.” He reached for her hand, rubbing his thumb across the back of her knuckles. “Nothing will happen to us.”

“Thirty minutes–”

“Isn’t all that long. Come here.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his broad chest. She immediately buried her face against his strong muscles, hearing his steady heartbeat. But as his scent drifted into her nostrils, her body started throbbing with need. A need – or want – she couldn’t give in to.

Holding onto him like a lifebelt, she let herself be lulled by Fernando’s voice talking about mundane things, focusing on his baritone timbre, the rumble of his chest with each word he spoke. She closed her eyes, almost able to forget where they were for a few minutes.

Fernando felt Gwen’s body relax against his own, and the less he worried about her state of mind, the more another tension started to build. A tension that sent jolts right to his groin. He wanted to take her right there, and it cost every last ounce of his self-restraint not to ravish the amazing girl in his arms.

Holding her against his chest, and yet unable to caress her the way he wanted to – the way she deserved – was pushing him onto the edge. It wouldn’t take much to have him topple over. The simple act of stroking her arms had him aching for her in a way he’d never experienced before.