But that was a lie.
His mouth came down on hers as his arms enveloped her. There was nothing gentle about this kiss. It was born of need. It had only been a handful of days since they’d kissed but Wynn drank her in as if he’d taken a lifetime to cross a desert to reach her.
She was his oasis—and so she let him drink his fill.
At some point, Scarlett must have released her briefcase because she found her hands free, running up and down Wynn’s muscled arms and wandering to his broad back. By now, his palms rested flat against her own back, holding her tightly in place against him. Her nails raked along the tailored navy suit he wore and she wished she could tear it from him.
One of his hands moved up her back, his fingers entangling in her hair, tugging on it, causing her head to tilt back. It allowed him to deepen the kiss even more. She heard little noises of want and need and satisfaction and realized they came from deep in the back of her throat. She gave herself over to them and all the feelings this man stirred within her.
Her fingers traveled up and pushed into his hair and now she held on as he did, not wanting the kiss to end, making sure he wouldn’t go anywhere.
From out of nowhere, her heart connected with her brain, telling her she’d be a fool to push this man away. Even if it didn’t last for long between them. Even if he hurt her beyond repair.
Because every moment with Wynn Gallagher would be heaven on earth.
Scarlett threw everything she had into the kiss. Her longing. Her desire. The desperation she’d feel if he moved even an inch away from her. They kissed until she didn’t know whose air she breathed in, his or hers. Until time lost all meaning. Until the only thing she was conscious of was how his kiss made her feel. Alive. Wonderfully, achingly alive.
A thud sounded above them but she ignored it. No way would she allow the outside world to intrude on this moment.
A scraping noise occurred directly above their heads and a voice called down, “You folks okay in there?”
Wynn broke the kiss and looked up. “We’re fine.”
Scarlett glared at the intruder, a thin man with a wispy mustache whose pale face was turning bright red.
“Oh. Uh . . . someone reported the elevator was out of service. I . . . uh . . . oh . . . oh . . . Carbon Man?”
Wynn’s arms still held her as he said, “I am and we’re okay, sir. Coming down now.”
The blushing worker’s head bobbed up and down. “Okay.” Then a look of panic crossed his face. “Wait a minute if you would, Mr. Gallagher. I need to get off the top of the elevator and reach a safe place inside the shaft first.”
Wynn smiled down at Scarlett and replied, “I can do that.”
The panel slid back into place and she heard the man’s footsteps above them. Slowly, she lowered her gaze and met Wynn’s eyes.
Then they burst out laughing.
“I guess he’ll have a story to tell,” Wynn quipped. “Not as good as we do.”
Scarlett tugged on his hair, forcing him back to her. Their lips met again, Wynn nipping at hers playfully and then he lifted his head.
“Guess he’s had enough time.”
Scarlett nodded. Words suddenly seemed impossible. Her one need now was Wynn’s mouth back on hers.
He must have read her mind because he gave her one slow, drugging kiss and then eased her away from him. Bending, he retrieved her briefcase and handed it to her. She grasped it, her legs wobbling like Jell-O as he leaned over and disengaged the stop button.
The elevator continued its descent. She combed her fingers through her hair. Made sure her purse strap was still on her shoulder. Licked her lips.
And tasted Wynn.
A shudder of desire ran through her as the doors opened. The maintenance worker who’d checked on them came into view. He nodded briskly as they stepped from the elevator. Wynn placed his hand at the small of her back and propelled her forward. It remained there, warm and possessive, as they crossed the lobby and stepped into the bright sunshine.
They returned to Wynn’s Spitfire. No, hers, she remembered, as the fog began to clear in her head.
“I’m not sure I can drive,” she confessed as they reached the sports car.
“Give me the keys.”
Scarlett unzipped her tote and found them, shakily handing them over. Wynn opened the passenger door and she got in, still a bit dazed. He came around the front and slid behind the wheel.
“Care if I put the top down?”
She smiled. “I was hoping you would.”
He started the engine and rolled the windows down before pressing a button. The top folded back, settling into a slot behind them.
“Call Cassie,” Wynn urged. “The sooner she and Breck can get Carbon Man 4 written, the sooner I’m free to pursue other things.”
The gleam in his eyes told her those pursuits involved more than his film career.
As Wynn worked his way back to the front of the studio, Scarlett located her cell and hit Cassie’s name on her frequent contact list.
“What happened?” her sister-in-law asked eagerly, not bothering with a greeting.
“Ed Mussfield went for it. All of it,” Scarlett confirmed. “The legal team will review the docs I drew up and we’re scheduled to meet again tomorrow morning and sign off. After that, Wynn will be free and clear after he shoots his portion of the next solo movie. By the way, the director called your treatment bloody fantastic.”
“And?” Cassie prodded.
“I’m going to text you Ed’s number. He’s expecting your call. He wants to hire you and Breck to write the script.”
“I knew it. The outline was pretty fantastic.” Cassie laughed. “I don’t sound biased at all.”
“Wynn read it on our way over
