Her nerves were upset, because she didn’t seem to have any control over her shifting emotions where Garrett was concerned. She’d realized that fact when she had no reaction to Luis Calderon. The younger Calderon grandson, the one who was still firmly single, was ridiculously handsome. She’d had a small crush on him off and on during the years. In the past, she’d enjoyed his flirting repartee . . . had even been tempted to start something with him, as he’d always indicated they should. But she hadn’t, mostly because he was a guest at the hotel and her professionalism precluded that anything might happen between them. But tonight she hadn’t felt a shred of temptation. Her head had been filled with the image of another man.
The image and the memory of another man’s taste. Of his touch. Of his power over her.
And then she’d looked up and there he was, staring her down as if she were betraying him, as if she’d done something that was immoral, unethical, something that she’d be severely punished for when he got his hands on her.
And then he’d called her over to him with that damn arrogant tilt of his head that she detested. No way. Not tonight. For some reason, a reason that was stronger than it had ever been since Garrett had arrived in Miami, she didn’t feel up to a contest with him, sexual or otherwise.
She made her escape from Luis’s side when one of his cousins came and joined him. She wished them both a goodnight and told Luis she’d see him later. She took a few steps forward, and was able to sneak a peak at Garrett as he leaned against the wall in the vestibule just outside of the ballroom, his intention of ambushing her as she left the room more than obvious.
Refusing to be caught in his hold, she decided to take the service stairway, which she was her preference over the elevator anyway, and missed it completely when Garrett turned his head and saw her make the move toward the obscure doorway that housed the steps.
****
About to round the corner of the landing leading to the fourth floor, Maria’s nerves jolted when she heard the sound of the door above her opening and then closing with the loud, echoing slam of steel against steel.
She came to an abrupt halt and listened, knowing for a fact that someone was in the stairwell above her, just out of her sight.
Silence.
The only sound she heard was her heart beating loudly in her ears, but she knew she wasn’t alone.
If she took two steps forward she’d be able to look up and see whoever was there. Two steps back might give her time to escape.
Unable to slow the raging pulse that was telling her that Garrett had found her, she took two steps backwards toward the wall, preparing to turn and run down, her stiletto heels clicking loudly against the bare concrete.
She never had a chance.
He sprinted down the half flight of stairs before she could even grab the railing that would balance her on the way down.
Damn stilettos. Damn her vanity for wearing them.
His hands reached out and he caught her, dragging her backwards, and she found her spine against the wall in the corner of the landing before she could even blink.
Breathing unsteadily, she looked up into the eyes of a madman as she fought for oxygen.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he raged, indomitable fury in every line of his body.
Breathe, Maria. Just take one breath and then let it out. For some reason, she had no idea why, it never occurred to her to lie to him. “Avoiding you.”
The look on his face seemed to say that he wanted nothing more than to shake her, but he didn’t. His fingers bit into the flesh of her upper arms, and his brows came down in a thunderous scowl of rage that was not scaring her. Hell no, the dude did not scare her. If she could just remember to breathe, then maybe she could convince herself of that truth.
He looked down at her, his height and breadth dominating her where she stood, as a small buzzing in the back of her brain told her that it probably wasn’t wise to take on a guy who was at least a foot taller and probably outweighed her by a hundred pounds of pure muscle. And that was without considering the pissed off river of testosterone that seemed to be flowing through his bloodstream at the moment.
Her eyes stayed glued to his, and as he moved several inches closer, her chin lifted and her neck arched at an uncomfortable angle so she could keep him in her sights as he loomed closer. All the while her heart was beating so rapidly that her head was spinning, and she was sucking in oxygen so quickly that she was beginning to hyperventilate.