Page 3 of The Secret Bride
My voice sounded high and desperate even to my own ears. I pressed the buttons again, harder this time, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The walls were closing in. The air was running out. I could not breathe. I could not think.
"Stop."
The man's voice cut through my panic, low and commanding. His hand closed around my wrist, pulling me back from the panel. I tried to pull away, but his grip was firm.
"Let me go. I need to get out. I cannot... I cannot breathe."
My vision was blurring at the edges. Black spots danced in front of my eyes. My knees buckled. As the world dissolved aroundme, I felt myself begin to fall, only to be enveloped by a strength that was sudden and all-encompassing. He didn't just catch me; he gathered me into his arms, anchoring me against the rushing chaos. Time seemed to slow as he lowered us both, until we were seated on the floor, the rough carpet grounding us while I remained cocooned within the safe, safe harbor of his embrace. I tried to focus on his face, but everything was spinning. My lungs were screaming for air, but I could not seem to pull any in.
"Look at me," he said, his voice steady and calm. "Breathe."
I tried. I tried so hard. But my body would not listen. The panic had taken over completely. I was drowning in it.
Then his hand cupped the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair, and before I could process what was happening, his lips were on mine.
Warm. Firm. Steady.
My eyes flew open in shock. He was kissing me. This stranger in the elevator was kissing me.
Chapter 1
Armaan
I was kneeling on the floor of my own building's elevator, giving CPR to a complete stranger.
This was not how I had planned to start my morning.
The woman in my arms was incredibly fragile. She felt like a feather, so light that for a moment I worried whether I was holding her correctly. Her entire body trembled against mine, her breathing shallow and erratic. I tilted her head back carefully, positioned my mouth over hers, and blew air into her lungs.
"Breathe," I said firmly, pulling back to watch her chest rise and fall. "Come on. Breathe."
Her eyelids fluttered. A soft, gasping sound escaped her throat as oxygen finally seemed to reach her lungs properly. The terrible pallor that had overtaken her face began to fade, replaced slowly by a hint of color. Her fingers, which had been clutching my jacket in a death grip, loosened slightly.
I stayed exactly where I was, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other steadying her shoulder. I watched her carefully, tracking every breath, every flutter of her eyelashes. She was coming back. She was going to be fine.
Then her eyes opened fully.
They were dark and wide and completely disoriented. She blinked up at me, confusion clouding her features for several long seconds. I could see the exact moment reality came crashing back into her awareness. The moment she realized where she was, how close I was, what position we were in.
Her entire body went rigid. Then she sat up so abruptly she nearly headbutted me in the process. I pulled back just in time, giving her the space she clearly needed. She scrambled backward until her back hit the elevator wall, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. Her face had gone from deathly pale to bright red in the span of a heartbeat.
"Are you alright?" I asked, keeping my voice calm and even.
She nodded quickly. Too quickly. Her eyes darted everywhere except toward me, as though looking directly at me might cause her physical pain.
I got to my feet and pulled my phone from my pocket, dialing security without breaking eye contact with her. She was still sitting on the floor, her knees drawn up slightly, her breathing finally beginning to stabilize. The call connected after one ring.
"Security."
"This is Armaan Khanna," I said, my tone leaving absolutely no room for questions. "The elevator somewhere between the twelfth and fifteenth floors is stuck. I need to know what happened and I need it fixed. Now."
There was a beat of silence, followed by the rapid clicking of keys.
"Yes, Mr. Khanna. We are checking the system now. It appears to be a minor electrical issue. The backup systems are already engaging. The elevator should be operational again within the next minute."
"See that it is," I said, then ended the call.
I looked down at the woman again. She was still staring at her hands, which were twisted together in her lap. She looked mortified. Completely and utterly mortified, as though passing out in an elevator was somehow the worst thing she could have possibly done.
