by Mia Dymond
“Well, I hit a snag and had to do some fast talking. Rachel’s a pretty hot item, Hawke.” She gave an exaggerated sigh. “She has a waiting list a mile long, but if you want, I’ll call everybody back and explain the circumstances.”
Hawke gave a half laugh. “No, Cameron, I’ll have Greg make the arrangements. But fourteen french kisses? Whose idea was that?”
Cameron giggled and decided to let up just a bit. “No one’s. I just threw that in to yank your chain.” She sneezed. “By the way, fifteen bouquets of roses is overkill, don’t you think?”
“Were you snooping?”
“I signed for the deliveries. All of them.”
“They’re not all roses.”
“Technicality, Don Juan. We could have a funeral in here.”
“Did you clear the whole week?”
Cameron cleared the moisture from the corner of her eye with one finger. “Yes, I came to your rescue. I rescheduled everything except the ribbon-cutting dinner for the new wing at the hospital. Are you going?”
Her question was only a formality. The black tie affair attracted anyone who was anyone in Diablo. Of course he’d attend.
“Yes,” he answered.
She waited a split second and then went in for the kill. “Do you have a date?”
“Are you asking?”
Cameron shook her head so hard she thought her brain would flip over. “What? No!”
“Max is available.”
Suddenly, she felt the conversation was headed for a dangerous curve. “Enough. Do you want my help or not?”
He answered with a low chuckle.
“Anyway,” she continued, “blazing a path for you wasn’t easy. Rachel won’t be happy when she realizes this will set her People project back.”
“Her what?”
“She didn’t mention Professionals for People?”
“No.”
Cameron tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Maybe I should let her tell you.”
“Too late. If you don’t tell me, I’ll put Max on it.”
“Fine.” She huffed and damned her big mouth. That’s all she needed, Super Spy on her back. “Rachel and I support a local charity, Professionals for People. We, along with other professionals in the community, help to provide housing for the less fortunate here in Diablo. We’re supposed to complete a house before the hospital shindig.”
Cameron paused and took his silence as a quiet victory. That’s what he got for thinking Rachel would fall at his feet. “Does that soothe your ego?”
“Yeah,” he said. “What exactly does the charity provide?”
“Everything. Lawyers draw up deeds, contractors build the houses, and electricians wire them. Rachel normally draws the plans and I do the interior design.”
“You sound dedicated.”
“I am,” she agreed, “but it’s really Rachel’s passion. She started the whole thing about five years ago.”
“Why didn’t she say something?”
“Rachel prefers to keep her involvement quiet.”
Cameron gave him a minute to process that information and used the silence to question her matchmaking effort. If Hawke truly wanted to get close to Rachel, he would need to respect her privacy. Was that even possible?
“I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, Hawke,” she said finally, “You better not break her heart.”
“I won’t.”
“Seriously, because I’m not afraid to take on Bigfoot to get to you.”
“I get it, Cameron.”
Only halfway satisfied, she eased off for the time being. “Just so we’re straight. By the way, I think we need to re-negotiate our agreement.”
“Why?”
“I think Sean has his own charity. Is she blonde or brunette?”
He chuckled and she knew he wouldn’t answer the question. Especially since she’d already kept her end of the bargain. “Thank you, Cameron.”
“You’re welcome.” The bell over the front of the office door announced a visitor and Cameron looked up to see Rachel enter the office. “I gotta go.”
Cameron disconnected and leaned to place the receiver back in place.
“Who died?” Rachel tossed a cardboard tube across the sofa table in front of Cameron.
Cameron sneezed again. “No one. All of these are for your sniffing enjoyment.”
“From who?”
“Not that I read the cards or anything, but they’re from a Mr. Jaydon Hawke, rock star extraordinaire. Just what exactly did you do in Sacramento?”
“Not what you think.”
Cameron clutched the appointment book against her chest and leaned back against the sofa.
“That’s why he’s called twice and sent truckloads of flowers. Must’ve been some trip.”
Rachel cut her eyes at Cameron then glanced down at the appointment book. “Please don’t tell me I’ve had another cancellation.”
Cameron bit her lip. Please don’t kill me. “That frees you up for the whole week.”
“I told Hawke I was booked the whole week.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t want to look desperate, Cameron.”
“He sounded persistent when he called.”
Rachel snorted. “Of course. He’s used to getting exactly what he wants.”
Cameron smirked. “He wants you, girlfriend.”
“No, he wants the thought of me.”
“That’s a really blonde thing to say, Rachel. Even I don’t get it.”
“Hawke likes the thrill of the chase, Cameron, and since I’m running, he’s thrilled. If he ever caught me, he’d be bored.”
“Then beat him at his own game.”
“You are insane.” Rachel rolled her eyes.
“That’s no secret,” Cameron agreed, “but as long as you have the upper hand, the universe is balanced. Besides, I thought we agreed you’d try him on for size.”
Rachel’s eyes flickered and Cameron suspected Rachel hadn’t forgotten.
“We did, but—”
“But what?”
“I’m not good at this.”
Not willing to let Rachel quit, Cameron made the one suggestion she knew Rachel wouldn’t argue with. “Use the week to work on his house.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow and bobbed her head from side to side as if considering the suggestion.
“And,” Cameron pressed, “maybe you should tell him about your People project.”
Rachel shrugged. “He probably already knows.”
Cameron swallowed hard. “You think?”
“Nothing gets past Max.”
“Yeah, Secret Agent Man,” Cameron mumbled, more than agreeable to let Max take the blame.
“I’ll think about it.” Rachel took the appointment book from Cameron and headed back toward her office.
Cameron folded her arms across her chest and shook her head, both annoyed and proud that Rachel wouldn’t give in easily. “You think entirely too much.”
CHAPTER TEN
Rachel had just dozed off when somewhere in the depths of her subconscious she swore she heard a telephone ring, but her brain refused to let her believe it. Instead, peaceful REM patterns took over and returned her to a warm, dream-filled cocoon.
And then the obnoxious noise intruded again.
Why didn’t someone answer the ringing beast? Rachel groaned and forced herself awake enough to realize the noise came from the phone on a table beside the bed.
Half irritated, she rolled over and answered. “Hello?”
“Miss Newberry?”
Rachel sat up, rubbed one eye with her free hand, then glanced at the clock next to the phone. 2:00 a.m. “Yes?”
“Sorry to bother you, Ma’am, but this is the Diablo Fire Department central dispatch. There’s been a fire in the Pacific Valley Heights addition. It’s one of yours.”
Rachel didn’t give the dispatcher time to explain any further. She mumbled a quick thank you, slammed down the phone and sprung from be
d.
Minutes later, Rachel crammed the car in park, shoved open the door, and sprinted toward the smoldering structure. Heat penetrated her pores as tiny bits of ash fell from the night sky like snowflakes and stuck to her sweat-dampened skin.
“Rachel!”
Rachel only vaguely recognized her name as she came to an involuntary abrupt stop when she bounced off a hard-bodied fireman in her path.
“You can’t go any closer.”
She lifted her now-watering, burning eyes to see Rick Martinelli slide his helmet from his head.
“How did this happen?”
Rick brushed his forearm across his forehead then wedged the helmet between one arm and one hip. “We don’t know for sure yet.”
She dug deep for patience. “Guess, Rick.”
“Arson.”
“Why?”
“No way to know.”
“How extensive is the damage?”
“Total.”
Rachel fumbled for her cell phone then realized she left it behind. “I need to call Hawke.”
“He’s on his way. The captain made the call.” Rick handed her his helmet and then shrugged out of his jacket. The scent of burning wood assaulted her nostrils.
“Here, put this on.”
She frowned. “You’ll need that, won’t you?”
Rick shook his head. “Fire’s out. I won’t be going back in.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Besides, I’m not standing out here in my nightie.”
Rachel gasped, thrust the helmet back at him, and grabbed the coat. “Thank you.”
Rick replaced his helmet. “You’re welcome.” Rick turned and headed back toward a row of fire trucks. After several steps, he tossed her a wink over his shoulder. “By the way, I always appreciated your legs.”
Rachel gave him a weak smile, squeezed the coat tighter around her, and then glanced back at the area where Hawke’s house had begun to take shape. Absolutely nothing had been spared by the angry flames.
“Oh my God.”
Rachel flinched at the sound of Cameron’s voice beside her. She tucked several pieces of hair behind her ear. “At least it was just the frame.”
Cameron nodded. “Yeah, but still, who in their right mind would do something like this?”
Rachel could only shrug.
“And how did they get in here?” Cameron demanded.
Rachel paused to analyze Cameron’s comment. An iron privacy fence surrounded the neighborhood. The only way in was either through the front entrance and past a security officer or over the top of the fence.
“I suppose they could’ve climbed over,” Rachel mumbled.
“Maybe.”
Rachel stole a glance at Cameron, dressed in a cute yellow sundress and matching sandals. She groaned and pulled Rick’s coat closed.
Cameron tapped her on the shoulder. “Care to explain why your jacket has Martinelli on the back?”
Rachel swallowed hard and opened the coat. “When the dispatcher called me, I hurried over.”
Cameron giggled. “You forgot your shoes too.”
Rachel looked down at the bedroom slippers on her feet, the ones with yellow smiley faces all over them. She gave Cameron a sideways grin. “I told you, I was in a hurry. I see you took time to dress.”
Cameron grunted. “I didn’t have a choice. The booming voice on the other end of my phone call told me to quote, Get dressed and get the hell over here so you wouldn’t be alone, end quote.”
Rachel bit her lip to stifle a giggle. “Max?”
“The one and only. It’s probably only a matter of seconds before he blows in here.”
Rachel glanced at the now scorched area. “Surely they can clear this out tomorrow.”
“Um, Rachel.” Cameron waved a hand in front of Rachel’s face. “Does Hawke know about you and Rick Martinelli?”
“No, we didn’t discuss past relationships.” She shrugged. “Besides, his list is longer than mine.”
“Yeah, but he’s not walking toward you with one of his conquests, just yours.”
Still distracted by the ashy carnage in front of her, Rachel didn’t bother to respond. Her relationship with Rick was the furthest thing from her mind. Until Cameron spoke again.
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. August.”
Rachel moved her gaze to focus on the three men who now stood next to her. Max appeared his business-as-usual self. Rick shook his head at Cameron’s introduction. Hawke appeared very interested in Cameron’s greeting.
He raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Mr. August?”
After a few awkward seconds of silence, Rick cleared his throat. “That would be me.”
Instinct told Rachel she should explain before the conversation took a dangerous U-turn, except just as she opened her mouth, Max folded his arms across his chest and took control of the conversation.
He turned to Cameron. “Does your mother know you look at that stuff?”
Someone sucked in a short breath. Someone else, most likely Rick, muffled a curse.
Cool as a cucumber, Cameron just grinned. “I only read the articles.”
Rather than stop right there, Max poked Cameron again. “Care to share what you’ve learned?”
Rachel placed both fingers to her temples. “Stop! Please. Nobody reads anything like that.” She turned to glare at Cameron. “At least I don’t think so. Rick volunteered to pose for a fireman calendar.”
Obviously amused, Hawke grinned. “What about the other eleven months?”
“My crew,” Rick mumbled.
Rachel gave an impatient huff and desperately tried to redirect the conversation. Especially since Hawke now stood beside her and she couldn’t help but picture him oiled and glistening. “Max, what about the fire?”
“The investigator will call me tomorrow. Everything’s still too hot to search.”
Although disappointed, Rachel already suspected as much.
“Okay, then.” Cameron jingled her car keys. “Since we’ve all discussed my reading preference and the fire is out, I say we all call it a night. Besides, Rachel’s not dressed for conversation.”
Rachel groaned. “Thanks, Cameron.”
Hawke’s eyes widened. “You’re not?”
“I left in a hurry.” Rachel folded her arms across the front of Rick’s coat.
Max shook his head and followed Rick back toward the fire engine.
“Want me to follow you home?” Cameron twirled her keys around her fingers.
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”
Cameron looked at Hawke then back at Rachel. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Come on,” Hawke said from beside her, “I’ll walk you to your car.”
Rachel felt Hawke’s hand press against the small of her back. Even through the heavy, thick coat, electric shocks of desire ran the length of her body. She led him across the cleared area planned for the house and into a clump of trees where she’d parked her Mercedes.
Hawke stopped and looked around the grassy area. “How’d you get in here?”
Rachel pointed at a thicket of trees opposite them. “There’s a gate on the other side. Originally, I toyed with the idea that this might make a good point for a private entrance. Now I’m convinced.”
“You really thought this out, didn’t you?”
“Apparently not.” The realization that someone might have entered the property through this entrance didn’t make her happy. “Why would someone do this? You have any enemies?”
“Probably,” he said without hesitation, “but maybe it’s not actually arson. The fire chief told Max this is the first fire they’ve had in this addition.”
“Rick’s hardly ever wrong,” Rachel mumbled.
Hawke leaned against the driver’s side door and shot her that sexy smirk again. The one that made her think naked. “You seem to have a lot of faith in Mr. August.”
Rachel entertained the thought of telling Hawke about Rick, but then decided against it. She was too distracted to explain. How
could one man make her wiggle with just a look? “We’ve been friends a long time.”
Her heartbeat gave a hard thump and she braced herself for his interrogation, readily prepared to tell him only what was necessary. Instead, he reached out, grasped the front of her coat, and pulled her against him. Her heartbeat kicked up a couple more notches.
“So, since you’re parked in the middle of these trees, why don’t you slide out of this coat and I’ll return it on my way back to the Suburban?”
Rachel opened her mouth, fully intent on issuing a polite thanks-but-no-thanks, and then the finely strung threads of her restraint snapped.
“I don’t have much on underneath,” she whispered.
He raised a hand and caressed the side of her face with his knuckles. “Show me.”
Empowered by his touch, Rachel knew she was a goner. Suddenly, nothing mattered more than pleasing the man in front of her. No more denial, no doubt, no regret.
She took a small step backward, her body cursing the separation, and unbuttoned each button of the coat. Once open, she shrugged each shoulder. The coat fell to the grass.
She stood morbidly still, watching him scan the length of her body now clad only in a white silk nightgown that barely touched the tops of her knees. His eyes glowed like fireflies in the darkness.
“C’mere, baby.”
Rachel returned to the circle of his arms and thought she might possibly combust. Even the summer night breeze that moved the silk against her torso couldn’t cool her. Braced against her car in the moonlight with his shirt fully open this time, Hawke posed as her own personal Adonis, poised for her touch. She rested her hands against the corded muscles of his chest and hoped that touching him would take the edge off her desire.
Her breath hitched when he ran his palm under the edge of her nightgown and up her bare left thigh until he rested his hand at one hip.
“If I would’ve known you’d come dressed like this, I’d have started a fire days ago.”
His familiar rasp started a needy ache between her legs. God, his voice did things to her. His fingers began a circular motion on her abdomen. Butterflies danced under her skin.
Rachel couldn’t even put two words together to formulate some sort of response, all too aware that his touch made her very, very stupid for the moment. Then his lips touched the sensitive skin of her neck and all conversation escaped her. She released a groan and pressed herself tighter against him.