Blue-Eyed Devil (Travis Family #2)(59)

Hardy smiled and pushed my straggling hair back from my face. "It'll only take a minute for them to find the disconnect switch. Just pretend we're in a hot tub."

"My imagination's not that good," I told him.

"You've obviously never lived on a drilling rig." His hand rubbed over my shoulders. "Are you hurt anywhere? Any bumps or bruises?"

"No, I was just scared for a little while."

He made a sympathetic sound, gripping me closer. "You're not scared now, are you?"

"No." It was true. It seemed impossible that anything bad could happen while I was holding on to those solid shoulders. "I'm just c-cold. I don't understand where the water's coming from."

"Manuel says a wall between the garage and a drainage tunnel collapsed. We're getting runoff from some pretty big waterways."

"How did you find me so fast?"

"I was just heading home when you called. I hightailed it over here and got a hold of Manuel and his buddy. We took the service elevator to the level just above this one, and I popped the doors open with a bent screwdriver." He kept smoothing my hair as he talked. "The escape hatch on the elevator was a little harder — I had to knock a couple of bolts out with a hammer."

We heard some static and a garbled voice from the two-way radio overhead, and Manuel called to us. "Okay, jefe. Switch is off."

"Great." Hardy squinted at Manuel. "I'm going to hand her up to you. Don't let her fall into the hoistway — she's slippery." He pulled my head back until I was looking into his eyes. "Haven, I'm going to push you up, and then you get on my shoulders and let them pull you out. Got it?" I nodded reluctantly, not wanting to leave him. "Once you're on top of the elevator," Hardy continued, "don't touch any of the cables or drive sheaves or any of that shit. There's a ladder attached to the wall of the elevator shaft. Be careful while you're climbing — you're as slick as a greased hog on ice."

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine. Put your foot in my hand."

"But h-how are you — "

"Haven, quit talking and give me your foot."

I was amazed by the ease with which he lifted me, one big hand fitting under my bottom to boost me up to the two maintenance men. They gripped me beneath the arms and pulled me onto the top of the elevator, holding me as if they feared I might skid over the side. And I probably would have, I was so covered in slime.

Normally I could have clambered up the ladder with ease, but my feet and hands kept slipping on the metal. It required concentration and effort to make it to the landing, where Hardy had pried open the hoist doors. There were more people to help me, a couple of office workers, the security supervisor and guard, the newly arrived elevator technician, and even Kelly Reinhart, who couldn't stop exclaiming in horror, saying over and over, "I just saw her a half hour ago . . . I can't believe this . . . I just saw her . . . "

I ignored them all, not out of rudeness but single-minded fear. I waited beside the open doors and refused to budge, calling out Hardy's name anxiously. I heard a lot of splashing and some grunting, and a few of the foulest curses I'd ever heard in my life.

Manuel was the first to emerge, and his companion came next. Finally Hardy crawled out of the hoistway, dripping and covered with the same dark slime I was, his business clothes plastered to his body. I was certain he didn't smell any better than I did. His hair was standing up in places. He was the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen in my life.

I launched myself at him, wrapped my arms around his waist, and drove my head against his chest. His heart thudded strongly under my ear. "How did you get out?" I asked.

"I got a foothold on the handrail, did a pull-up on the top frame, and swung a leg up. I almost slipped back down again, but Manuel and Juan grabbed me."

"El mono," Manuel said as if to explain, and I heard a rumble of laughter in Hardy's chest.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"He called me a monkey." Reaching into his back pocket, Hardy extracted a wallet and fished out some dripping cash, apologizing for the condition it was in. They chuckled and assured him the money was still good, and they all shook hands.

I stood with my arms clutched around Hardy as he spoke with the elevator technician and security office supervisor for a couple of minutes. Even though I was safe, I couldn't make myself let go of him. And he didn't seem to mind that I had attached myself to him, only ran his hand over my back now and then. A fire truck pulled up outside the building, lights flashing.

"Listen," Hardy said to the security supervisor, handing him a soggy business card. "We're done talking for now — she's been through enough. I've got to take care of her and get us both cleaned up. If anyone wants to know something, they can reach me tomorrow."

"Right," the supervisor said. "I understand. You let me know if I can help you in any way. Take care, y'all."

"He was nice," I said as Hardy guided me out of the building, right past the fire truck and a van with a camera crew emerging.

"He's hoping you don't sue his ass," Hardy replied, leading me to his car, which had been double-parked. It was a gleaming silver Mercedes sedan, and the inside beige upholstery was buttery and perfect.