by Jamie Denton
“Think he’s a little thick-headed today?” Cale said to his partner, loud enough for Ben to hear.
Brady chuckled. “I think his mind is somewhere else.”
“On someone else, you mean.”
Ben turned around and blocked their path, giving them both a hard stare. “Do you clowns have a point?”
Cale looked at him as if he had as much sense as Drew. “Since when does Tilly have a jeweler?”
“AHHH. That’s better.”
Jana wiggled her toes and issued another relieved sigh as she carefully set her new suede boots next to the bed to air out for the night before putting them back in the box. Never again would she equate sex to taking off a pair of shoes at the end of a long day. She knew the difference now, and they were acres apart.
She pushed off the mattress and walked across her bedroom to the dresser for her favorite pair of grungy sweats. Sitting in the center, in front of the mirror, were the roses Ben had sent yesterday. The large cut-crystal vase held three dozen of the palest shade of pink roses she’d ever seen. She breathed in deeply, inhaling the luxurious scent filling the room. Flowers from a man weren’t out of the ordinary, but usually she only received them for special occasions, like her birthday.
She was thankful that she’d been alone when the flowers had been delivered. After their spa day and a late lunch, Chloe had dropped her off at the dealership to pick up her car, which she’d taken in for service, so she’d been spared another of her cynical friend’s sexual revolutionary speeches and Lauren’s attempts to put silly romantic notions into her head.
Ben’s gift made it patently clear he wanted to see her again. Although she did appreciate his generosity, she wasn’t a complete fool. She suspected his reasons had more to do with sex than wanting to get to know her.
Incredible, earth-shattering sex, but still just sex.
For as much as she truly enjoyed every moment she’d spent with him, a fling wasn’t her cup of latte. She hadn’t been shopping for a relationship, either, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t open to the possibility should the right guy come along at the right time. But Ben was not that guy. Relationships led to sex, not the other way around.
Despite her lack of illusions regarding his intentions, she couldn’t be rude. She had been raised always to be polite and considerate of others. What harm could there be in calling to thank him. Just thank him, nothing more.
After changing clothes, she lifted the card from the plastic holder and carried it with her to the bed. She stared at the phone and bit her lip. “Willpower,” she said, firmly, and snatched the cordless from the cradle and dialed his number.
He answered on the second ring. The low sexy rumble of his voice started her heart pounding.
“Hi, it’s Jana,” she said, aiming for calm and self-confident. Instead she got nervous and shaky.
“I was hoping I’d hear from you.”
He did sound pleased that she’d called, but she didn’t know him well enough to determine a come-on from genuine interest. “I was at a birthday party all day.”
“Yours?”
“Ooh, that was smooth.” She laughed at his attempt to garner information.
“I try,” he said. “So when is your birthday?”
That was not the question of a man only interested in sex. Her self-restraint weakened. “If you ask me what’s my sign, I’m hanging up.” She heard the rustle of paper in the background. A newspaper? Probably a comic book.
“Too clichéd,” he said with a hint of laughter.
“So are flowers, but they are beautiful.” She flopped back against the mound of pillows. “That’s why I called. Thank you, Ben.”
“I like hearing you say my name.”
Could be a come-on, could be flirting. Flirting, her conscience rallied in support.
“I especially liked the way you said it Friday night,” he added.
As if she needed a reminder. She closed her eyes, then snapped them open again to escape the erotic visions. “Hmm,” she murmured, starting to feel warm. Her willpower melted. “Friday night or Saturday morning?”
“Morning.” His voice deepened, becoming huskier. And definitely sexier. “How about dinner?”
She sat up straight. “Now?” Was he after more of the same?
“It’s not quite seven o’clock,” he said. “If you’ve already eaten, we could meet for dessert.”
And just who would be the dessert? Her pulse quickened with anticipation.
She might have already rolled over once with her legs in the air, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was an easy piece. “You know, that sounds like it’d be fun, but I can’t.”
“Other plans?” he asked. He sounded disappointed. Because he wasn’t going to get any, or because he really did want to see her?
“To be honest, I’m exhausted,” she lied. She’d never been more awake. “The birthday party was for my oldest sister’s twin sons. Do you have any idea how much energy a dozen five-year-old boys have? We’re talking hyper-speed, and a decibel level to rival a heavy metal concert.”
“I understand,” he said. Did he really? Personal experience? she wondered, thinking of those half-dozen little Ben juniors she’d imagined running after him.
“How about dinner tomorrow?” he asked. “I’m off at six. Does seven work for you?”
Maybe he did really want to see her again, for all the right reasons. “Seven’s perfect,” she told him. The investigation of Trinity Station would no doubt zap every emotion in her system; it’d do her good to concentrate on something other than the assignment from hell. “The downtime will probably be just what I need after tomorrow.”
“What’s going on tomorrow?”
She detected genuine interest and it made her smile. “A new assignment I’m not looking forward to,” she told him. “And I still haven’t prepped, something I need to do tonight.”
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you, Jana?”
He segued expertly into seduction. Regardless of her uncertainty surrounding his motives, she was hooked. She settled against the pillows again. “A back rub and I’m yours.”
“My hands are on your shoulders. Do you feel them?”
She closed her eyes, shutting out the last of her self-discipline. “Yes.” Fantasies were a snap now, thanks to him.
“That’s warm oil I’m using. Can you feel my hands gliding over your skin? Moving down your spine?”
She couldn’t breathe.
“Lower.” He paused. “And lower.”
If he went another inch, she’d be in trouble. She cleared her throat.
“Just relax, Jana,” he practically purred in her ear. “Relax and feel my hands spanning the curve of your hips.”
She sighed audibly. Forget her hips. She knew just where she wanted his hands. Desire tugged sharp and low in her belly.
“Good night, Jana.”
Her eyes flew open as she heard a click, followed by the drone of the dial tone. “Noooo,” she whined. God, he’d done it to her again!
She yanked the handset away from her ear and stared at it angrily. How was she supposed to get any work done now that her body buzzed with need for someone who wasn’t even there, especially now that she knew exactly what sensual delights she’d be missing?
“OVER THE NEXT few days, I’ll be conducting interviews with the personnel on scene during the incident, examining equipment and observing your crew in action.” Jana handed Captain Rick Baker the list she’d made last night of the squad members she wanted to interview first.
She estimated the man in charge of Station 43—appropriately referred to as Trinity Station because it shared one corner of an intersection with three churches—to be in his mid-forties. So far, he’d offered no objections to any of her requests.
“I would also appreciate it if you could arrange for the scene commander to meet me at the site tomorrow to walk me through the events.”
“That would be Lieutenant Perry,” the captain told he
r before she could look up the name again. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”
Obviously Captain Baker understood that OSHA wasn’t the enemy. She doubted the crew of Trinity Station would be as helpful. They usually lumped OSHA personnel in the same category as snail snot.
“If Lieutenant Perry’s available, I’d like to start by interviewing him.”
“He is.” The captain stood. “He’ll provide you with whatever information you need to complete your investigation as quickly as possible. Any of my men will be available to assist you with the equipment inspections, as well.”
“Thank you, Captain,” she said as she stood. “I know this is a difficult time for all of you. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
The captain’s expression visibly tightened. He nodded his thanks, then walked toward the door of the small office. “I’ll send in Lieutenant Perry. Feel free to use my office for as long as you need it.”
Jana thanked him again, then lifted her briefcase and carried it with her around the desk once the door closed. She was playing a definite mind game, but if she placed herself in a position the squad recognized as one of power, she just might manage a little grudging respect. She needed every advantage possible, real or imagined.
She adjusted her short navy blazer and straightened her shoulders. The door opened, and she looked up at what had to be a walking, talking fantasy. In numb shock, she sank silently to the worn leather chair.
This couldn’t be happening to her.
Ben’s large body filled the doorway. Dark-blue trousers outlined his powerful thighs and long legs. The lighter blue shirt of his firefighter’s uniform clung to his chest and emphasized his wide shoulders. The same shoulders she’d clung to during the throes of passion.
A deep frown creased his forehead. His pale-blue eyes filled with suspicion.
“You’re Lieutenant B. Perry?” she asked him, still unable to comprehend how something like this could be happening to her. “You’re a firefighter?”
“That’s right,” he answered slowly. “Jana, what are you doing here?”
“Oh God,” she muttered miserably. She propped her elbows on the desk and let her head fall into her hands. “This can’t be happening. It just can’t.”
The door closed with a loud thud. Or was that her heart that had just landed at her feet?
“What the hell is going on?” he demanded. Nothing about his voice reminded her of the tender, skillful lover who’d whispered hotly in her ear. There was no sign of the rich, deep husky tone capable of making her squirm from a few carefully chosen words meant to seduce.
She lifted her head. Nothing about his entire demeanor reminded her of the man who’d tilted her world and shown her the true art of sexual magic. Instead, he was cold, detached, and ticked off to the max.
She suppressed a shiver of apprehension. “I’m here to investigate the death of Ivan Fitzpatrick,” she told him. “I’m with the Fire Investigation Division of the Occupational Safety and Health Administration.”
He muttered a ripe, vile curse.
She nodded slowly in agreement. “Yeah,” she said. “That’s kinda what I was thinking, too.”
7
“THIS HAS to be a bad dream.”
Ben couldn’t argue. When he’d walked into the captain’s office, he’d been expecting an officious geek with greased-back hair and a cheap suit, not the woman he’d been anxious to seduce back into bed.
“You should have told me you worked for OSHA.”
She stood, her palms slapping the desktop as she leaned forward and gave him a heated stare. Apparently she’d taken exception to the censure he’d been unable to keep from his voice. Too bad. He’d just gotten the shock of his life. He’d earned the right to be uncharitable.
“You say that as if I knew who you were,” she accused. “We didn’t tell each other our last names, remember?”
How could he forget? He’d been too enticed by the lure of anonymity. He’d jumped at the opportunity to be just Ben, not a firefighter, not the man in charge, not the son who’d been forced to accept responsibilities he’d been too young to shoulder. For those few hours, he’d chosen to forget why he’d even been at the bar that night, never once believing the decision would come back to bite him in the butt.
He looked at Jana. No easy, welcoming smile curved her lips today; they were a tight grim line. She didn’t resemble the Jana he knew. The navy power suit and crisp white blouse, combined with the sensible all-business hairstyle irked him as much as the accusation in her sharp tone. He preferred the softer Jana, the one that cried his name during the height of pleasure.
She fell back into the desk chair, propped her elbow on the arm and rested her chin in her hand. “What am I supposed to do now?” she murmured, not looking at him.
The way he saw it, she had only one available option. “Reassign the investigation,” he told her.
Slowly, she lowered her arm and shot him another heated glance. A deep frown hardened her pretty features. “I don’t think so,” she snapped at him.
He wasn’t the one to blame here, and he didn’t appreciate her sniping at him. In two long strides, he crossed the small office, planted his hands on the desk and leaned forward as she’d done earlier.
“You don’t have a choice.” He kept his voice low so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Conflict of interest, Jana. Ring a bell?”
“No.” Her frown matched her own low, forceful tone. “This is my case. My investigation. Got it?”
“You don’t have a choice,” he said again, only louder.
“I will not have this case reassigned just because we…” Her frown deepened. “Just because we had a one-night stand.” She finished the sentence in a rush.
His usual stoicism slipped. Because of her crude assessment of what they’d done? Because she’d dismissed the unique chemistry between them he couldn’t possibly ignore? Or because it looked as if his chances of getting laid tonight were circling the drain?
For his own peace of mind, he hoped for the latter. Unfortunately, he suspected the culprit for his annoyance with her stemmed from the former. “We shot past the definition of a one-night stand when you agreed to have dinner with me tonight,” he argued.
She narrowed her eyes and let out a hiss of breath as she stood to face him down. “If you think I’m going to jeopardize my career because we had great sex, then think again. It’s not going to happen.”
He straightened as she circled the desk. “Reassigning a case won’t hurt your career, Jana, but continuing under the circumstances could. I was the one in charge out there. I’m the one that sent Fitz into that house. The fact that we’re involved will have an effect on your objectivity. You have to see that.”
She folded her arms and glared at him. “Involved?” Her caustic little laugh shook loose his carefully controlled temper. “We are not involved.”
“How do you figure that?” He matched her stance and her glare. “Recap. You ask to buy me a drink. You invite me back to your place. We make love.” He leaned toward her and held her narrowed gaze. “Correction. We make love all night long.”
She looked away. “That does not mean we’re involved.”
The sharp edge of anger in her voice dug in and took hold. “You called me,” he continued hotly. “You agreed to go out with me tonight. We even played around with phone sex, in case that escaped your memory, too. Starting to sound a little like involvement? You seeing a conflict of interest yet?”
“You’re the one who sent me flowers.” The delicate pink blush tingeing her cheeks took the punch right out of her argument.
“It was your decision to call.” The volume of his voice rose another notch, but he was beyond caring. “If you hadn’t wanted to see where this is headed, you wouldn’t have bothered to pick up the phone.”
She dropped her hands to her side and faced him. Heat and frustration lined her gaze. “Why is this my fault all of a sudden?”
He moved back to the desk and perched o
n the edge to gain some distance, and he hoped, perspective. “I’m just telling you that you can’t be the one to investigate the incident.” He struggled for an infusion of calm, rational thought. It didn’t happen. “I’m not blaming you.”
“It sure sounds as if you are,” she argued. “And I really don’t care what you think. I’m not handing my investigation off to someone else because my being here makes you uncomfortable.”
He let out a sigh, but his temper failed to ebb. Determined didn’t begin to describe this side of her he’d just been introduced to, and he didn’t like what he was seeing. Bullheaded, impossibly stubborn, unable to see reason were more accurate. And, heaven help him, sexy as hell. He wanted her. Now. He wanted all that passion channeled into something a whole lot more satisfying than an argument.
“How is it going to look if you stay on the case?” he countered. “Your objectivity is going to be questioned.”
“I’m a professional. I won’t let that happen.”
Faced with her unwillingness to listen to reason, his last shred of tolerance crashed. Hard. “Dammit, Jana,” he thundered, pushing off the desk.
Jana’s eyes widened in surprise at his outburst, stopping him cold.
He raked his hand through his hair, then pulled in a deep steadying breath that scarcely calmed him. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t lose his cool. He never blustered and never shouted, especially at a woman. He was nothing like his old man, but after his outburst, he’d have a rough time defending himself.
Reeling in his temper took supreme effort. Where had the standard cool, detached manner he’d perfected over the years gone? he wondered. Where was the cold-hearted, unemotional bastard now, the one he’d been accused of being on more than one occasion?
He wished he knew.
“I’m sorry about that,” he told Jana.
She indicated her acceptance of his apology with a slight nod of her head.
With a calm he had yet to salvage fully, he asked her, “Why can’t you see this has disaster written all over it?”