Blazing Hotter (Love Under Fire Book 2)

by Chantel Rhondeau

  Shaking her head, Cassie grabbed a towel off a nearby cart and blotted at his forehead. “You’re sweating. That must have hurt a lot.”

  “I’m fine. Stop worrying about me. I’m worried about you.” Even though he’d been upset about them getting that electric wheelchair, it’d sure be handy to have right now. Standing for a few seconds was one thing, but there was no way Frankie could wheel himself down the hallway to the nurses’ station. He needed Cassie’s help for that. At least until the motorized wheelchair arrived. Then, he could investigate things on his own. “Grab the card,” he ordered, “but try not to touch it more than we have. Pick it up by the corner. If we can’t figure anything out after talking to the nurse, we’ll have to call the cops.”

  Cassie looked around the room, finally going toward the drink machine along the back wall. “I think there should be some sandwich bags over here that they use for snacks.” She dug through the cabinets and drawers before giving a triumphant squeal and standing upright, a gallon-sized zippered bag in her hand.

  She opened it as she walked toward him, stopping at the table. Touching the very corner of the envelope the card came in, she dropped it inside the plastic bag, doing the same with the card before sealing both things inside. “That should preserve anything we didn’t already destroy.”

  Frankie nodded, sticking his hand out to take the bag without thinking about it.

  She hesitated, then carefully set it on his lap. “Let’s go find out what the nurses saw. I’m sure this is nothing. I’d rather not bother the police while they’re in the middle of a murder investigation unless we have to.”

  Chapter Four

  Cassie pushed Frankie from the therapy room and headed for the front desk of the rehab center. While the letter had her heart racing and Frankie’s news of a killer on the loose served to frighten her further, she thought she had an idea who was behind the flowers. The question was whether she should share that information with Frankie.

  For the first time in months, Frankie had stood up under his own power with no coaxing or encouragement from her. The few times she’d had him on his feet lately, he always seemed as if the pain was too much and she’d relented and let him sit. Maybe she was too emotionally entangled in his care now. Frankie obviously could stand, he just needed the right motivation. She’d let her feelings for him cloud her judgment, not pushing him as hard in his rehabilitation as she should have.

  The threatening letter had him moving and acting like a complete man again, someone who had a future to look forward to. If she told him her suspicions about who sent it, would it deflate his enthusiasm? Frankie worked as a firefighter before, and if Cassie remembered correctly, he came from a line of firemen. It was his nature to protect and rescue people in danger. This was the most alive she’d seen him since first becoming his therapist.

  “Cassie?” He tipped his head upward, looking at her as she pushed the chair. “Are you okay? Maybe we should go to the police first and let them investigate.”

  She blew out a heavy breath, slowing her pace. It looked like she’d have to tell him about her suspicions. Glancing around the hallway to make sure it was empty, she stopped walking and set the brake on Frankie’s chair, circling to the front and crouching in front of him. “I think I might know who did this. If I’m right, I can’t go to the cops with it.”

  He squinted at her, disbelief clear in the hard set of his jaw. “If you know, we should definitely call and report it. What kind of psycho do you know that would send a letter like that?”

  “I went on a date about three years ago with a doctor over at Sayle Regional when I worked there. He seemed nice, charming, attentive, and definitely not shy with his money.”

  “Everything a girl wants.” Frankie tilted his head and made a circle motion with his bad hand. “Keep going. I know there’s more to the story than that.”

  She hoped she was doing the right thing. Maybe if Frankie understood why she couldn’t go to the police, he’d still want to investigate and help her—which in the process would help him as well.

  “He was nice for a few weeks, but something always seemed off to me.” She shrugged. “I couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness and decided to end things. I figured he was a great guy, just not the guy meant for me, and convinced myself that’s why it felt so wrong.”

  “But it was more than that,” Frankie said, the words not a question.

  “Yes. The wrongness was in him. He became... obsessed, I guess you’d say. He tailed me home at nights when I’d leave the hospital. He barged in on the few dates I had and threatened to beat the guys up. Almost anytime I looked out my windows when I was home, his car was parked on my street.”

  “And this is the guy you think is after you now?” Frankie laid his hand on her shoulder, staring at her intently. “We’re calling the cops. Now.”

  “Wait.” She knew if she got caught she’d be fired, but Cassie lay her head against his hand, savoring the connection with him. So much for fantasies that would never come true. It was obvious that Frankie liked her as much as she liked him.

  His eyes closed for a brief moment and the hairless, uneven yet smooth skin of his scarred fingers twitched against her cheek. “Wait for what, Cass?”

  “I reported him to the cops back when all this happened.” Cassie blinked rapidly, remembering the humiliation as the police officer who investigated her complaints agreed with Dr. Kenneth Morgan, thinking she was a gold digger who got pissed when he dumped her. The cop didn’t believe one word she said. After all, she was a lowly nurse and Dr. Morgan was a respected pillar of the community. “He lied and they ate it up, thinking I was in the wrong. They didn’t believe me then, and if I say anything against him, they aren’t going to believe me now.”

  “No, they won’t, not without proof.” Frankie’s chocolate brown eyes opened, staring at her as though seeing her for the first time. “I’m not letting him hurt you, Cass. I don’t care what I have to do, but we’ll prove he’s after you again and make the cops listen. In the meantime, help me pack some stuff. I’m going home with you.”

  “Home with me?” Cassie jerked upright and brushed his hand away from her, shaking her head. “You can’t come home with me. You’re a patient. I shouldn’t have shared any personal stuff with you, let alone have you stay at my house.”

  Frankie’s left hand shot out, grabbing her hand and he squeezed her fingers. Although she knew how much pain it must have caused him, his expression didn’t change. He was serious about helping her.

  “There isn’t a problem about me being your patient anymore.” He drew her hand toward him and bent over it, kissing her fingers gently near the middle knuckle before releasing her. “We’ve gone beyond the boundaries of patient and therapist, so I’m afraid I have to fire you.”

  “Fire me?” She gasped but wasn’t sure if her breathlessness was caused by the feel of his lips against her skin or by his words. “You can’t fire me, Frankie. You still have work to do.”

  “Which I will do with a different therapist.”

  “But why?”

  “Why?” He gave a grin that lit his entire face, showing why he’d had a reputation as a lady’s man before the fire. “The why is easy. I don’t want you to be my doctor. I want you to be my woman.”

  ***

  Frankie knew he shouldn’t push Cassie so much, but he hadn’t missed the way the woman savored his touch. It had been a long time since he felt a connection like that, and he wasn’t about to back down now. If Cassie didn’t want to date him in the end, so be it, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to allow some psycho to terrorize her.

  “Look,” he said, stroking her palm as best he could with his thumb. “I hated being with you socially at that party, and it took me all week to figure out why. You’re a remarkable woman, and I want to know you on a different level than as your patient.”

  “Frankie...” She shook her head. “Can’t you see how wrong that is?”

  He relented, realizing he
’d need to tread more slowly. The longing in her eyes told him she wasn’t rejecting him, just the situation. “Fine. Forget that part. Can we at least become friends?”

  “Of course. I already consider us friends,” she agreed.

  “Good. Friends help each other out. I’m going to help you prove your mystery doctor sent those flowers, and I’m going to stay with you in the meantime to make sure he doesn’t hurt you.”

  Her lips pressed together in a thin line, and Frankie knew she was thinking about saying something she figured he wouldn’t like. It was the same look she had when trying to push his rehab harder when he was already in a lot of pain.

  “Spit it out, Cassie.”

  She shrugged. “I just wonder what you’ll be able to do if he comes after me. I’m not trying to be rude, but—”

  “But I’m a cripple,” he interrupted.

  Sighing, she nodded. “Sorry. Not quite the way I would phrase it, but you are limited in what you could do.”

  He’d wallowed in self-pity for far too long. Frankie wasn’t going to let his limitations stop him anymore. He flashed another grin. “Well, you said the electric wheelchair will be here tomorrow, right?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I’ll run the bastard down if he comes anywhere near you.”

  A smile finally broke across her face, revealing the beauty that Frankie had been falling for recently. “We could attach knives to the footrests. A perfect, nonfatal way to take care of him.”

  “You seem almost too gleeful, picturing me cutting him up,” Frankie said, chuckling. “I could also get my handgun from my dad’s house. I’d need to practice with it, considering I was right handed before and need to use my left now. I also want you to learn to shoot it.”

  “A gun?” She shook her head. “I’m not sure, Frankie. My job is to help people get well. A gun seems against everything I’ve built up over my life.”

  “Whether it was that doctor or someone else, you’ve been threatened. I’m not taking that lightly, even if I’m trying to make you smile. I’m staying at your place and we’re getting my gun. No arguments.”

  She stared at him for several long moments, all sorts of mysterious thoughts passing behind her beautiful blue eyes. “Okay,” she finally said, relenting. “I need to file paperwork with human resources, letting them know that our relationship is more personal in nature and we’ve become good friends. I’ll tell them I’m no longer your therapist. Even if I do still wish I could treat you, I can’t risk my job by keeping this change a secret. We’ll have to find someone else to help you with therapy.”

  That seemed fair. Especially considering he intended on becoming more than her friend before it was over. “Take me to the reception desk before you talk to HR. I want to find out what they know about who delivered those flowers. I’m hoping it’s that doctor jerk, so we can catch him quickly, but I want to cover all avenues. There’s a killer in town who has gone after two women so far, and we can’t rule anything out.”

  It made him feel guilty when the fear reappeared in her eyes, but Frankie had to make sure Cassie understood that this wasn’t a game. They needed to explore every option, especially if they were waiting to go to the police.

  She returned to the back of his wheelchair, unlocking it and continuing down the hallway. It was obvious he’d upset her again because she didn’t say another word until they reached the front desk.

  Sandy, the nurse who had delivered the flowers, looked up from her computer behind the reception desk and smiled. “Hey, Cassie. Who was your admirer? Flowers are so sweet!”

  Cassie stepped around the chair back into Frankie’s line of vision, and he was relieved to see the smile on her face as she looked at the other woman. She might be frightened, but Cassie was no shrinking violet either. She’d already composed herself and was ready to do what needed to be done.

  “We came to ask about that,” Cassie said. “There wasn’t a name on the card or a florist shop logo. Can you remember who delivered them?”

  Sandy frowned in concentration, tilting her head as she thought. “I’m not sure.” She glanced at the nurse next to her. “Do you remember, Rose?”

  Rose looked up from the clipboard in her hand, a frown marring her otherwise pretty face. “I’m not sure, either. I mean, he definitely seemed like he was from a florist and official, but when you took over I stopped paying attention.” She shrugged. “Sorry, Cassie. I have a ton of paperwork to finish before I can leave and I have a date tonight. I’ve been sort of rushed.”

  Cassie laughed, though Frankie could tell it was forced. He wondered if the nurses realized that as well.

  “Paperwork is a pain.” Cassie managed to keep her voice upbeat and chipper. “I don’t blame you. I would have gone back to work too.”

  “I hope you figure it out,” Rose said. “Maybe you’ll have a date tonight too if you do!”

  “Maybe,” Cassie agreed.

  Sandy leaned forward slightly, making eye contact with Frankie. “What about you, Frankie. Are you almost ready to start dating again?” She gave him a flirty wink, and Frankie stifled a sigh.

  Sandy was a nice enough woman, but she flirted way too much. He preferred the other nurses, like Rose. Rose never made inappropriate comments or made Frankie feel uncomfortable. On the other hand, if Cassie had been the one flirting with him and asking about dating the last few months, Frankie wondered what might have happened.

  “Not sure I’m up for dating,” he finally said. “I need to start getting out of this place more before I can do anything else. Thought I could help Cassie solve the mystery today and make myself useful.”

  “It’s good to see you up and around,” Sandy said, her hands fluttering around her face as though nervous. “If helping Cassie is your goal, then it’s mine too. Let me think a second.” She tapped a pen against her lips. “If I remember right, the nametag the man wore had a rose with a long stem pictured under his name. Which florist has that as a logo?”

  “I know that one. It’s The Flower Shoppe,” Rose said. “You know, that place down on Twenty-Second Street?” She gave a short laugh. “I get a lot of flowers. Comes with the territory of dating.”

  “Must be nice,” Cassie said, still doing a good job of keeping calm. “These are actually the first flowers I’ve received.”

  Frankie wondered if that were true or if she simply tried to keep the conversation sounding natural so the nurses didn’t pick up on anything being wrong.

  Frankie cleared his throat to draw their attention. “Are you guys sure it was a florist that delivered them, not a person?” If it was the doctor himself, surely these nurses would have recognized him. Many of the people working at the rehab center also spent time working at Sayle Regional.

  Sandy nodded. “I’m sure. It was a uniform with a nametag, just like Rose said. I’m sure it was a delivery man.”

  “What did he look like?” Frankie asked.

  “Brown hair, average height.” She shrugged. “He was a regular person.”

  Cassie shook her head slightly, letting Frankie know it wasn’t the doctor.

  “Thanks, ladies,” she told the nurses. “Guess I’ll have to call around and see if I can figure out the mystery.”

  “Good luck,” Rose replied, already lost in her paperwork.

  Sandy smiled, a wistful expression on her face, and her eyes briefly dipped toward Frankie before she looked back at Cassie. “I hope you find him. I wish someone would send me flowers.”

  Frankie had a feeling she wouldn’t want what Cassie got, but they both smiled as Cassie wheeled him away from the desk toward the elevators.

  “Let’s get you back to your room,” she said. “I’ll talk to HR and then help you pack.”

  “Are you done for the day?” he asked.

  “Yep. I’m supposed to have dinner with my stepbrother and his new wife tonight since they just got home, so I’d planned to cut out a little early. I’ll cancel. I don’t want som
eone following me to their house. My brother has a six-year-old son and they are in the process of adopting a baby.”

  Frankie didn’t want to tell Cassie, but if it was the doctor stalking her again, he probably already knew about her brother’s family. “The sooner you get done at HR, the better. We need to head to The Flower Shoppe and see if the delivery really came from there.”

  Chapter Five

  Cassie pushed Frankie through the parking lot toward her old, beat up Ford Taurus. His bag of clothes was slung across the handles of the wheelchair, but Cassie hadn’t really considered all the problems that would come along with Frankie staying with her.

  “How are we going to get you inside my car?” she asked, slowing as it came into sight. “It took both Thayne and myself to lift you into his truck for the party. I’m not sure I—”

  “Don’t worry. Just wheel me to it. I’ll get inside myself.”

  Swallowing her surprise, Cassie continued across the lot. While the note scared her, and she hoped they could figure out who was behind it quickly, Cassie couldn’t help but think it was the best thing that could have happened as far as Frankie was concerned. Maybe the man just needed a purpose. She’d tried everything she could to get him standing in the rehab room, but he’d lacked sufficient motivation, it seemed. He was serious about protecting her, and Cassie couldn’t help but be flattered.

  Swinging open the passenger door, she pushed Frankie in close.

  He used his hands to help move his legs from the footrests on the chair to the ground, then pushed himself up from the wheelchair. His legs shook as he stood. Cassie was about to lunge forward to try to support him when he twisted his body and dropped into the passenger seat.

  Although a fresh sheen of sweat covered his brow, he grinned. “Told you I could do this.”

  “I have to admit to being impressed.” Cassie moved the chair out of her way to help Frankie put his legs inside the car and fasten his seat belt. “I always believed you could get back more mobility. I’m glad you’re finally trying.”