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overcome with the urge to kiss her and even told himself it was to get her mind off the elevator entrapment.
    When he broke the kiss he was exhilarated and excited about seeing this intoxicating woman again in his life.
    Then, she looked so puzzled at his interest in her, with the ‘I’m not a model’ line. Gavin sighed. And there it was, he thought, his image rearing its ugly head. Yes, he dated models because they were accessible to him. He often met them at parties and they wanted to be seen on his arm and photographed for the tabloids. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. 
    More often than not, h e’d taken them to his bed, of course. He was a man and they were more than willing, but he’d yet to meet one that he wanted to keep there. They were a bit like wax fruit, he’d thought at one point, beautiful on the outside, but once you got past the augmented breasts, the plumped lips, the botoxed foreheads, there was nothing satisfying about them, other than their appearance.
    This was true for him and his dating, until he’d met Libby. She’ d stood out from the crowd, just as beautiful as any of those women, but so much more because she’d been real. There was a vulnerability in her that called to him. There was no coyness or guile.
    His first sight of her that night, she’d had her head thrown back, laughing with the bartender, a person most of the guests pointedly ignored.  Open, friendly, inviting, he’d been drawn to her immediately. 
    Steadying himself, he finally answered her question. “How is that relevant to the fact that I just kissed you? Besides, I know you’re not a model. I scoured every modeling agency in the city after that party looking for you, but you‘d vanished.” Gavin now went full circle to his original question. “Why did you run?”
     
    *~*~*
     
    Libby thought back to that time. She’d regretted running out on him. Even as the taxi had sped away that night, she’d bemoaned the fact that she hadn’t given in to the undeniable passion which had exploded between them. 
    At the repeated question, she cocked her head to the side while gazing up at him. He still stood close, his face mere inches from hers.
    She could feel the heat of his body, though beyond the kiss, he hadn’t touched her. “Well, Mr. McBray, you might be used to women who will go home with a man at the drop of a hat, but I’m not used to being one of them... I was out of my depth there. I only went to that party because my cousin had an extra invitation, but standing there in the midst of all those thin, gorgeous women? I knew I didn’t belong.”
    “Gavin. My name is Gavin,” he corrected without touching on the subject of the elite crowd or the defense of her personal morals. “Have dinner with me tonight and let me convince you of just how beautiful you are.”
    Lord , but she wanted that. “We’re stuck—remember?”
    He grinned at her. “My security team knows where I am at all times, even inside this building. It won’t take long for the elevator to start working again...You couldn’t have picked a better person to get stuck in here with, if you’d tried.”
    That was certainly tr ue, for more reasons than one. “So, what do we do in the meantime, while we wait for your security team to come to the rescue?”
    “Is there any chance you’ll hyperventilate again?” he asked, teasingly. 
    “It’s not outside the realm of possibility,” she replied, tipping her head back to stare up at him. Normally, she hated being short, but standing next to him, she felt small, delicate and feminine instead of just feeling vertically challenged.
    Gavin reached up and tugged the pins from her hair, allowing the red waves to fall d eliciously over her shoulders. “For your own health and safety, I think I should provide a suitable distraction.”
    “I think that’s an excellent idea,” Libby quipped, stunned at her own behavior. She was actually flirting with him. She decided in that moment