by Ashlyn Chase
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Copyright © 2016 by Ashlyn Chase
Cover and internal design © 2016 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover art by Aleta Rafton
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
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Contents
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
An Excerpt of How to Date a Dragon
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Cover
To first responders everywhere.
Unlike my dragons, you’re not fireproof, and yet you put your lives on the line every day, for complete strangers.
I am in awe of you.
Chapter 1
Chloe Arish sat on a hard plastic chair outside the fire chief’s office, tapping her foot while she awaited her second interview for a job as a Boston firefighter. She had already passed the civil service exam and the candidate physical ability test. The written test and oral exam were more difficult for her than the physical stuff, but thanks to some coaching by her friend and fellow dragon/firefighter Drake Cameron, she had passed with flying colors.
Actually, the one thing she was most worried about was her fake birth certificate. Now that she was a naturalized U.S. citizen and had been a resident of Boston for over a year, she met the most basic requirements. But her life’s history on paper was completely false, and this job came with background checks.
Fortunately, her Ulster cousins knew “a bloke” who could create a realistic forgery, picking a birthday that didn’t indicate her real age, which was well over a thousand years old. She didn’t look a day over twenty-three, so her phony birth certificate was made to match. Just for kicks, they picked July 4 as her birthday. America’s birthday.
Just as she was checking her watch for the umpteenth time, the door opened and out strolled a six-foot Adonis. Dark hair, chiseled features, and olive skin.
He was followed by the chief, who clasped him in a man-hug, and they pounded each other on their backs.
“Give my best to your family,” the chief said. “I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.”
“I will. And say hello to yours for me.”
Oh, feck. They know each other. Chloe had heard that nepotism was a regular thing among firefighters.
The chief nodded to her. “I’ll be with you shortly,” he said and returned to his office.
The Greek god gazed at her with intense dark eyes. “So, you’re here for an interview too?”
She straightened to her full five-foot-five stature. “I am.”
“Let me guess. You’re a secretary? Or what is it called now? Administrative assistant?”
Her eyes widened. What a chauvinist pig! Did she want to give him the satisfaction of an outraged reaction? Hell yes.
“I’m here to interview for the firefighter position. Not that it’s any of your business.”
He had the audacity to laugh. “A little thing like you?”
She seethed inwardly and longed to shift into her dragon form, to breathe a column of fire right into his face. Or not. That would be a crime—in more ways than one.
She tipped her chin up. “I passed the CPAT in record time.”
“Really?” He said it as if he didn’t believe her. “Record time, huh? I did too. I wonder who broke whose record?”
This arrogant fecker was getting to her. She had to tamp down her anger and quickly, before she started snorting smoke out of her nose. Revealing her paranormal status to humans was strictly forbidden. She had never done it, but she knew someone who had. Mother Nature herself had punished the offender. The goddess was not someone she wanted to piss off—and Gaia seemed to have a temper as quick as Chloe’s.
Injure them with kindness was an American saying she was fond of. Or was it Kill them with kindness? She couldn’t quite keep all the slang straight, but the meanings got through.
She smiled. “It looks like you may get the position. After all, they say it’s who you know—not what you know.” At least she hoped she’d quoted that one correctly.
His back stiffened and he frowned.
Yup. Got that one right.
Then he relaxed and smiled, as if he didn’t care. “Or I could get it because of both. What do you have as an advantage—other than your sex?”
She gasped. “Excuse me? Are you accusing me of sleeping my way into the job?”
He coughed. “No, that’s not what I meant. Not at all. I just meant that your sex is female. As in, your gender. There’s only one woman in the whole department right now. They may want another one so they won’t be accused of gender bias.”
Oh, this ass is just digging himself in deeper and deeper.
“I don’t need to use that to my advantage, but it’s good to know.” This time her smile probably looked somewhat evil as she pictured herself punching this guy in the gut. Messing with Chloe Arish was not a good idea.
The door opened and the chief said, “Come in, Miss Arish.”
At last. It was her turn to prove she deserved and wanted this job more than he did…probably more than anyone did. And her sex had nothing to do with it.
* * *
“So, you want to be a firefighter,” the chief began as he took his comfortable-looking chair behind the desk.
“Yes, sir,” she answered respectfully.
“Your scores are certainly impressive. You must be a lot stronger than you look.”
You have no idea. Dragons were not only very strong, they were fireproof and healed quickly. She couldn’t be better suited for the job.
“Tell me why you wish to join our
band of brothers,” he said. It almost sounded like he was trying to provoke a response.
She wouldn’t rise to the bait. “Well, sir, there was a fire back in my hometown. Our small volunteer fire department took too long getting from their homes to the station, and then to the scene. I heard children crying. The garda—policeman wouldn’t go in himself and wouldn’t let me in. I could have helped. I’m fast and light on my feet. I could have made it to that bedroom before the whole place went up. One child died of smoke inhalation and the other was badly burned.”
Leaning forward in his chair, the chief asked, “What about the parents?”
“They were at the pub, sir.”
The chief waited, perhaps looking for some kind of judgmental reaction. She wouldn’t voice her personal feelings about the adults involved in the incident. Her heart had broken when she’d seen those children.
She needed to change the subject before the lump in her throat grew too large to speak around. “I’ve been helpin’ me brother and his wife rebuild an old brownstone on Beacon Street for the past year, so this would be perfect timin’.” Get yourself together, Chloe. She tended to lapse back into her Irish dialect when something upset her. “It was gratifying work, but it’s done. I would like more than anything to do something even more satisfying, such as protecting the neighborhood I’ve grown so fond of.”
Chief O’Brian’s eyes lit up. “Did I detect an Irish accent?”
Feck. She had been working so hard to rid herself of the telltale accent, hoping she could pass for an American. “You did, sir. I was born in Ireland.”
He grinned. “My grandparents hailed from County Clare. Where did you come from?”
She almost slipped again and said County Kerry…but thank goodness she caught herself in time. Her cousins had given her a birth certificate that said she was born in Belfast. The Ulster address grated, but she couldn’t exactly be choosy.
“I was born outside Belfast, sir. But we spent a lot of time in County Clare when I was a child.” Best not to share that her father’s family were the kings of Ballyhoo, Ireland—farther to the south—and she’d grown up in a castle built into the cliffs. If he checked the history books, he might find her name dating back a thousand years, so she left it at that.
His expression became serious. “Belfast… That might actually help. In this job, we don’t only respond to fires. You may see some gruesome things. Did you grow up knowing any survivors of the IRA bombings?”
She thought back to the Battle of Ballyhoo. Her father, the king, had had to slaughter his own brother and others involved in his attempted overthrow. They’d used boiling oil as well as crossbows, swords, and other weapons of the time. Such was the way of kingdoms and family feuds back then.
“I have seen many burn victims, dismembered bodies, and the like. It isn’t pretty, but that’s another reason I’m motivated to prevent such tragedies.”
The chief leaned back in his chair, apparently impressed. He didn’t say anything for several moments. And then, “Have you ever thought about becoming a nurse?”
Ah. There it was. That bias. But how should she answer that?
“Well, sir, by the time people come to the hospital, it’s too late to prevent these tragedies. I’d really like to do all I can to stop the situations before anyone gets hurt.”
He stared at her as if he had something specific in mind. “How are you at teaching?”
Shite. If not a nurse, he wants me to become a teacher. Can’t women do anything else? She was just about to go off on a rant when he steepled his fingers and continued.
“I only bring it up because we’re sometimes asked to present talks to elementary school kids. Most of the guys dread those things. You seem to like children.”
“Ah.” Whew. She was glad she’d managed to keep her famous temper under control. “I’d consider it an honor to teach fire prevention to such an impressionable population.”
The chief smiled and seemed satisfied with her answer. Then he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. When he was settled again, he stared at her. “There’s only one position, and to be completely honest, I had thought the last candidate was a shoo-in. Now I’m not so sure.”
How should I respond to that? Thank you? She opted not to respond at all. She really did feel she was the right woman for the job, but saying so might sound like she was playing the gender card.
“Hmmm…” The chief stroked his clean-shaven chin. “I’m going to have to give this some serious thought. Keep your cell phone on. I want to talk with someone and get back to you as soon as possible.”
Hallelujah! She had a chance.
Chloe walked into the hall and was surprised to see the Greek god still standing there.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I hope you didn’t have your heart set on the position.”
He’s still assuming I can’t do the job. Well, I’ll show both of them I can. She dipped low and grasped him under his delectable buttocks. Then she hoisted him over her shoulder and swung around to face the stunned chief.
“As you can see, lifting a grown man isn’t a problem. In fact, I could carry him down the hall and deposit him on the sidewalk without breaking perspiration.”
The chief burst out laughing, but her hostage let out a growl and said, “Put me down. Now!”
“Sure, sweetheart.”
As soon as she’d set him on his feet, she turned to leave. She didn’t miss the furious look on his face nor the flash in his dark eyes that would have skewered her, if he’d had the power.
“I think you meant to say, ‘without breaking a sweat,’” the chief called after her. He chuckled and murmured, “Adorable,” under his breath. Fortunately he returned to his office before any more could be said.
* * *
Ryan Fierro stared after the retreating figure of an incredibly surprising woman. She’d embarrassed him in front of an old family friend, and if it got back to his large, legendary firefighting family, he’d never hear the end of it. Even with that, he couldn’t help being impressed by the slender blonde.
She didn’t look back as she rounded the corner. Behind him, the chief’s door clicked shut.
Oh no. He wasn’t about to leave Chief O’Brian with that as his final impression. He pounded on the door.
As if the chief had been expecting a reaction, he opened it right away. He didn’t stand aside, however. Apparently they were to have their parting words right there in the hallway.
“You can’t… I mean… I hope you won’t consider her based on that little stunt she just pulled.”
Chief O’Brian folded his arms. “Not at all.”
Ryan let out a relieved breath—until the chief spoke again.
“I was already considering her.”
What? “But my family… If I lose out to a girl…” He scrubbed his hand over his face. He didn’t know how to finish that sentence. They’d never respect me? Never forgive me?
Sure, his mother would. She was a saint. Her face should be in psychology textbooks next to the words “unconditional love.” His father and six brothers, however, were another story. Their Sunday dinner conversations were unmatched when it came to firefighting bravado.
The chief clasped his shoulder. “Look, Ryan, I have to consider every candidate who makes it this far. I’m sure you understand that. It’s nothing personal.”
“Nothing personal? It sounds as if you’ve already decided.”
“Not at all.”
The chief took a good look at Ryan’s face, which must have been etched with worry lines. At last he lowered his voice and said, conspiratorially, “I’m going to speak to the commissioner. Perhaps we can find the funds to hire both of you.”
So it all comes down to money. What a surprise…not.
There wasn’t a damn thing Ryan could do about a budget. He doubted the chief could influence the co
mmissioner—or the mayor—into allotting more money, even for the pricey Back Bay neighborhood. They had recently lost two firefighters in the line of duty. He’d heard one had already been replaced, but he assumed he would be replacing the other one.
Ryan gazed at his feet and nodded. “I understand. Well, thank you for the opportunity.”
“You’re not out of the race yet, boy. Something could still come from the background checks, or any number of things. I want to be fair and thorough. Don’t get discouraged if there’s a bit of a wait.”
“I won’t, sir.” The chief extended his hand and Ryan grasped it firmly. The handshake felt like a formal dismissal.
As the chief’s door closed, Ryan thought that maybe he should do a little background checking too. Just in case they missed something on the blonde.
* * *
“How did it go?” Ryan’s mother asked at the dinner table that night. “Do we have another firefighter in the family?”
His father laughed. “Of course we do! There’s no way they could turn down our brightest son.” He turned toward his wife and beamed. “It’s a good thing the rest of them aren’t here. Don’t tell them I said he was the brightest.”
“Of course I won’t,” she said. “All of our sons have their own strengths and talents, and we love them all equally.”
“So, which one are you again?” his father asked jokingly.
Ryan felt his face heat. He tried to hide it by shoveling an extra-large bite of spaghetti into his mouth.
His mother folded her hands. “So, when do you start, dear?”
He shrugged and chewed slowly.
His father eyed him. “Something’s not right. What aren’t you telling us?”
They waited silently, until he couldn’t pretend to chew anymore and swallowed.
“Uh, there are background checks to finish and I guess some financial stuff has come up. The chief said to be patient.”
His father leaned back in his chair at the head of the table. “Ah. That’s just a formality. You’ve never been in any trouble with the law. You’re a U.S. citizen…”
As his father droned on about the reasons an applicant could be denied, Ryan had a brainstorm. The blonde had an accent. Granted, it was faint, but he’d heard it. And the way she’d butchered American slang… She wasn’t from the USA. With any luck, she’d turn out to be an illegal alien.