Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(7)

They’d been in here an hour. The buses would still be outside, surely. With all that rain, it would take a while to pull off any kind of evacuation. The elevator was becoming stuffy, too. Either that or she was just in the early stages of hyperventilation. She put a hand to her damp forehead and willed herself to breathe slowly. This would be a lot easier if she wasn’t trapped with the unpleasant manager. No wonder the hotel was such a dump if he was in charge.

“Shouldn’t someone come looking for you soon?” she asked. Surely they’d need the manager to help coordinate the evacuation.

“You would think so.”

No sarcasm that time. Well, goody. They were making progress. Bront? dug through her purse and pulled out a piece of gum, popping it into her mouth and nervously chewing it. Every action in the oppressive darkness seemed of monumental importance. She picked through the contents of her purse with her hand, looking for anything useful. A pen. Her checkbook. Passport. Wallet. Loose change. Birth control. When her hand touched upon that, she smothered another hysterical laugh.

She heard him sigh at her laughter. He sounded frustrated. Too bad for him—she was at her wit’s end herself. But she needed to talk, so she asked, “Think the buses are still outside?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

Jeez. Could he be any ruder? “Aren’t you supposed to be good with customer service or something? You seem to be failing on that front.”

He seemed amused. “Am I?”

“Yeah, as a manager, you might want to work on your people skills. I’m just saying.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” the dry voice said.

She yawned. Now that the initial terror had worn off, she was busy being annoyed at him and not frightened. Combine that with the rising humidity, and she was getting sleepy. “I think we’re stuck here.”

“Theoretically.”

“I assume the buses left by now.”

“You also assume I was going to leave by bus.”

“Oh? I guess you have special transportation to take you away before the hurricane gets here?”

Silence for a moment. Then: “A helicopter.”

Well, wasn’t he high-class management? “Okay, let’s try this again. Do you think your helicopter is still there?”

A long pause. Then he grudgingly admitted, “Not if the weather is getting worse.”

“You might have to ride the bus with us plebes, then.” She lay down on the floor, using her purse as a pillow. “‘As the builders say, the larger stones do not lie well without the lesser.’”

“More philosophy?”

“Just a little something to think about,” she said tartly.

“Indeed,” he said slowly, and she noticed he had let off on the infernal buzzer. Maybe he was giving up. She sure was. After a moment, he asked, “Will anyone be looking for you?”

Her sigh in response seemed overloud in the darkness. “I don’t know. I came here with a friend, but she’s a bit . . . flighty. I don’t know if she’ll realize I’m missing or just assume I got on another bus.” Bront? hated to think about it, but if it came down to Sharon staying behind to make sure Bront? was safe or Sharon getting out of Dodge? She knew which one Sharon would pick. “I like to think that someone will come and check that the building’s been completely evacuated before they all run off to the mainland.”

“Mmm.” His tone was noncommittal. As if he wasn’t sure that was the case at all but wanted to humor her.

Yeah, she wasn’t sure about that either. But it sounded good, so she adjusted her purse and rested her cheek on it, waiting for rescue.

***

Bront? woke up some time later, her mouth dry, her body aching. The silence was deafening, the blackness almost overwhelming in its depth.

Still no power. Still in the elevator. She rubbed at her eyes and sat up, wincing. “Hello?”

“Still here.” The man trapped with her sounded more weary than annoyed. “You haven’t missed anything.”

“I must have slept. How . . . how long have I been out?”

“About six hours.”

Six hours? Dear God. Panic made her heart flutter in her chest. “They’re not coming for us?”

“My guess is no.”

She sucked in a deep breath, willing herself not to panic. Stuck in an elevator on an evacuated island. Stuck. It felt oppressively hot in the elevator now, as the power had been out for several hours and the tropical humidity was taking its toll. “How could they leave us behind?”

“Again, just a guess, but I would say that in the chaos of the evacuation, someone dropped the ball.” His tone was analytical. Bored.

Was he still pissed at her, or pissed at their situation? It didn’t matter, she supposed. Neither of them was going anywhere anytime soon.

She sat up, wincing at how stiff her body felt, and how sticky with sweat. Ugh. She was thirsty as hell, too, and there was no relief from the heat. The jeans and T-shirt she’d put on for the evacuation felt stifling. She kicked off her sandals and then glanced over to his corner of the elevator, not that she could see anything. If she undressed, would he notice? Would he mind? Was it dangerous? He didn’t seem like the type to leap over here and rape her, and she was miserable in the heat.