In fact, the story got more dramatic every time she heard it. The chunks of marble grew to the size of boulders. The flames were magically flaring all the way from the back of the house to the stairwell. Roman was completely blinded by the smoke and needed Double D to dart inside the house and lead him to the doorway. That detail appeared only in Double D’s version, but no one dared dispute it.
What no one could explain to her was why Roman would go to the trouble of risking his life, retrieving her nearly lifeless body from under a pile of rare Moldavian marble, only to ignore her utterly ever since then.
She thought about asking Vader when he stopped by the house, but he was still so upset about the whole thing she didn’t have the heart.
“You could have died. What the fuck, Sabina?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. How’re things at the station?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been off. Fire chief’s happy, though. Roman made us look good. They wanted to give him an award or something, but he said hell no.”
“Really?”
“Said he was just doing his job.”
Right. Just doing his job. Of course that’s all it was.
Vader pulled one of her beige armchairs close to the couch and propped his forehead on her upper arm. “I didn’t know I’d be so messed up if you got hurt. Do you think . . . ?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Dude, you don’t know what I was going to say.”
“Sure I do. You’re having crazy thoughts that you might be in love with me. You’re not. We’re friends. Don’t go all mushy on me, Vader, or I’ll drop a free weight on your foot next chance I get.”
Vader straightened up, looking hugely relieved. “Thanks, Two. Because Cherie says I’m in love with her.”
“Cool. Good choice. Is she okay with your potential homophobia or is it reverse homophobia now?”
“She worked up a whole program to cure me. It’s like school, Two, with lessons. Lesson sixteen is watching Brokeback Mountain without closing my eyes. It’s nuts. But she smells so good, like strawberry cheesecake. So I put up with it.”
Sabina laughed so hard, her ribs nearly cracked all over again. “Good luck with all that. Invite me to the graduation party.”
“Vader.” Annabelle stood over them, hands on slim hips. “What are you thinking, making her laugh?”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay, Annabelle. I needed that.”
Vader got to his feet. “I better go anyway. Big meeting at the firehouse.”
“Thanks for coming by,” Sabina told him quickly, before he said anything more about the station. It hurt to hear about everything going on without her. It hurt to hear about Roman, busy running drills, training the crew, doing everything except coming to see her.
“I’m going to order some chicken soup from Murray’s Deli. You hungry?” Annabelle poised her index finger over her phone.
Sabina stared up at her, bemused. “In all those episodes where you cooked for Taffy, didn’t you soak up any information?”
Annabelle bristled for a moment, as if she didn’t know whether Sabina was teasing. “I can make hot cocoa. And I can probably remember grilled cheese. That was always your favorite.”
“Taffy’s favorite. We didn’t eat cheese, remember?”
“Yes. Taffy’s. Your favorite was . . .”
Sabina raised an eyebrow, waiting. If Annabelle remembered her favorite food, she’d eat her pillow. Her mother had been unexpectedly tolerable the past few days. She’d ordered takeout, refilled prescriptions, and even helped Sabina shower. She hadn’t mentioned the reunion show once. Still, the fact remained that Sabina was stuck on the couch, unable to work, and at times had the nightmarish sense that she’d never managed to leave home at all.
“Steamed dumplings with lots of soy sauce,” Annabelle announced proudly.
Sabina’s jaw dropped. “You do remember.”
“Is that so strange? You’re my only daughter. A few details stuck with me.”
The glint of humor in Annabelle’s tilted eyes did something funny to Sabina’s stomach. She wasn’t sure she liked it. Is it possible she’d . . . well, not misjudged her mother, precisely, but . . . underestimated her?
“Annabelle . . . ?”
“What?” her mother asked when she trailed off.
Questions piled up in Sabina’s mind. Why hadn’t she acknowledged the money Sabina had given her? Why had she chosen to cut her off? Had she ever missed Sabina? But frankly, Sabina feared the answers. “Let’s order Chinese. For old times’ sake.”
The next day she couldn’t take it anymore. She had to get out of the house. Breathe some firehouse air. Remind herself that she was a firefighter. Talk to some members of the male gender for a change. Real, red-blooded, muscular men.
See Roman.
She borrowed her mother’s Volvo, which was an automatic, unlike her beast of an El Camino. It felt wonderful to do something on her own, to drive herself instead of stewing in the passenger seat. Driving was a little uncomfortable, but right now, absolutely necessary.
The whole crew was excited to see her. They gathered around, clapped her on the back, teased her, called her Iron Zombie until she threatened to kneecap them with her crutch. They asked when she was coming back. Told her, in detail, about every fire she’d missed. Recounted the prank Psycho had pulled on the rookie. While poor Ace had been in the bathroom, Psycho had snuck the rescue dummy into his bed. Ace had freaked out when he crawled back into bed to find it occupied.
He’d gotten some serious ribbing the next morning about his wild night with a sex doll and all the crazy sounds he’d made.
Sabina listened, laughed, chatted, but not one moment passed that she wasn’t hyperaware of the closed door of Roman’s office. Did he even know she was there? Did he care?
Finally, when she was just about ready to leave, the door opened and Roman appeared, a mountain of smoking hot male filling the doorway. He looked just as good as she kept remembering every restless, tossing night. Better. From all the way across the room, she could pick up his scent, black coffee and potent man.
Good thing she was on crutches.
“Chief Roman,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as weak as she felt.
“Firefighter Jones. How’s the recovery?”
“Speedy. I hope to be back on the job very soon.”
He hesitated, his dark eyes boring into her. “No need to rush it.”
Oh really? So he didn’t want her to hurry back? The man had some nerve, rescuing her and then ignoring her. Outrage stiffened her spine. “Chief Roman, may I speak with you privately?”
His fierce eyebrows pulled together. He didn’t want to be alone with her—she could tell. Too bad. She was still a member of Fire Station 1 and had the right to talk to her own training officer.
Reluctantly, he jerked his head in assent and held the door open for her. Ducking under his powerful arm felt like passing through a field of radiation. Sexually charged radiation. Every particle of her body responded to him. Even her ankle throbbed.
Or maybe that was because she’d been upright too long.
He noticed. Of course he did, with those black eyes that scoured every inch of her body. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” she said.
“You’re hurting.”
“I’m fine.”
“Sit down.”
She wanted to object to his bossy command, but she really needed to get off her ankle, so she swung over to the chair. Instantly Roman was at her side. He took her crutches and held her elbow as she sank into the chair. A sound escaped her, a sort of moaning wheeze. She knew what it was—shocked pleasure at the touch of his warm hand. But to him it must have sounded like pain.
Roman’s brows drew together in a worried scowl as he knelt next to her. “You should be in bed, not hanging around here.”
“I’m tired of being in bed.”
They stared at each other. The
words “in bed” hung in the air between them, heavy and tantalizing. Deep in his eyes, a flame lit. She felt the same flame in the pit of her stomach, in the tips of her fingers, at the base of her throat.
She broke the spell by clearing her throat. “Word is, you rescued me. Thank you.”
It was as though a shutter slammed closed over his face. He looked down at the cast on her ankle. “It was nothing.”
“Nothing?” What the fuck did that mean? “You ass. It wasn’t nothing to me.”
She stared stubbornly at him, willing him to meet her eyes.
“Sabina . . .” His voice was thick and black, like tar running over gravel. “I . . .” Finally his eyes lifted, and she sucked in a breath. Pain radiated from him, a sorrow so deep and nameless she felt it like a punch in the stomach. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Unable to say a word, she nodded.
“Because if you weren’t—” He broke off, his mouth tightening.
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Promise.”
He got to his feet and stood looking down at her, head bent. She felt embraced by his concern, as if surrounded with warm, steady light. Her head swam. If only she could live in that place, in this moment, in the crosshairs of Roman’s attention. She could imagine no safer, more blissful place to be.
Someone knocked on the door. “Captain, we got an issue out here. Stan’s running in circles around the training room sounding like a chew toy.”
The moment shattered. Roman straightened his head, the corners of his firm mouth curling in amusement. He strode to the door and cracked it open. Stan shot in. He whirled around the room, sniffing frantically, then skidded to a halt at Roman’s feet. Tail wagging, he panted until Roman reached down, way down, to scratch him between the ears. His moist brown eyes closed and his tail pounded on the floor.
Watching Roman’s long fingers work their magic, Sabina knew just how Stan felt.
“He likes you now?”
“Apparently so. Guess he just needed some time to warm up to me.”
Sabina pushed herself to her feet and grabbed her crutches. “I’d better go.” She hadn’t said what she’d wanted to say, which was something along the lines of Why are you pretending I don’t exist? But she’d gotten her answer. He knew she existed, all right. He just didn’t know what to do about that fact.
Neither did she, for that matter.
Roman gave a brisk, formal nod. “Hang in there with the recovery. Do whatever the doctors say, don’t push anything. We look forward to having you back with us.”
Sabina gave him a half smile and stumped toward the door. He opened it to usher her through. On her way out, she leveled a long stare at him. “You don’t fool me, Roman,” she said softly. “Not anymore.”
He straightened, surprised.
“I take back what I said before. If you really were an ass, Stan wouldn’t have anything to do with you.”
She felt his stare drilling the middle of her back all the way out through the kitchen, across the training room, and out the door. The tingle didn’t go away until she was safely in her mother’s Volvo, heading for the only person she could stand to talk to at the moment.
At La Piaggia, Anu sat her down and made her some Kapha tea. Sabina, she explained, had too much Pitta and needed to strengthen her Kapha to help her heal. Sabina had heard the terms before, when one of the makeup artists on the show had gotten into ayurvedic aromatherapy.
“If you weren’t actually from India, I wouldn’t put up with this for two seconds,” grumbled Sabina as she sipped the twig-flavored tea.
“That’s because you have too much Pitta.”
“Please stop saying that.”
“You Pittas are stubborn and have no patience. How are you doing? Paparazzi aside?”
Sabina heaved a sigh. “Confused.”
“Confused, eh? That’s good. My tea is working. Pittas never admit to confusion.”
Sabina barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes.
“So tell me, what has Chief Roman done to confuse you?”
Sabina put down her teacup with a sharp clink. “How do you know it’s about him?”
“Because he seems equally confused. He left out the oregano in his arrabiata the other day.”
“What? He’s still cooking for you?” Every hair on her arms stood up, as if Roman might be in the kitchen right now. Which was ridiculous, since she’d just left him at the station.
“On occasion. It seems to relax him. Right now, he needs a great deal of relaxation. What did you do to him, Sabina?”
“Excuse me? Why are you blaming me?”
“Because he makes sensational meals for my customers and now they are not so sensational as they were.” Anu drummed her fingers on the table. “As a matter of fact, I’m a bit worried.”
“You’re worried about him? I’m the one with the broken ankle, cracked ribs, and multiple abrasions. Shouldn’t you be worried about me?”
Anu regarded her with those lively brown eyes. “Should I be?”
“Yes, you should be.” Because she was in trouble, bad trouble, trouble she didn’t know how to fix. “Oh Anu, it’s bad. I’m . . .” The words clawed at her throat. “I’m . . .” The truth battled to get out, like the alien trapped inside Ripley’s stomach. “I’m in . . .”
Anu leaned forward, her entire body poised at attention. “Yes?”
Sabina exploded with a groan of pure frustration. “Arrgh! Anu, it’s terrible. I think I’m in . . . in love with Roman.”
“Well, of course you are.”
“What?”
“Chief Roman is an extraordinary man. And I’m not referring only to his good looks.”
He was. He truly was. Which made everything a million times worse. Now that the words had come out, Sabina kept on going. “I can’t stop thinking about him. Ever. Daytime, nighttime, doesn’t matter. And he’s avoiding me. Wants nothing to do with me. Well, except for saving my life. Even if he feels something, he’s pretending he doesn’t. And I don’t even know if I want him to. He’s my superior officer. We can’t do this. There’s no future. I know it, he knows it. What can I do?”
Anu shook her head in that fatalistic Indian way of hers. “Disaster, indeed.”
Surely Sabina deserved a prize for not tossing her Kapha tea at her friend.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Roman drove his Jeep through a lovely wooded subdivision in a section of San Gabriel he hadn’t seen before. With its graceful eucalyptus and cypress trees lining the streets, it had the feel of being out in the country. Following the directions he’d been given, he pulled in at a newish-looking two-story home. Off to one side, a silver Airstream trailer glinted in the evening sun.
Captain Brody had invited him to dinner and he’d accepted. He wasn’t sure why, since the last time he’d seen the man, Brody had tried to challenge his authority. But his crew revered him, and that one brief encounter had certainly made an impression on Roman. Lord knew he could use allies. Something told him Chief Renteria’s good opinion could vanish as quickly as he’d gained it.
A lovely, green-eyed woman who looked to be about five months’ pregnant answered the door. She offered a quick smile and a surreptitious scrutiny that he pretended not to notice. “Hi, I’m Melissa, Captain Brody’s wife.”
“Rick Roman. Nice to meet you.” They shook hands, sizing each other up. He handed over the bottle of Brunello from Montepulciano that he’d brought. She accepted it graciously.
“No wine for me, though,” she said, patting her belly.
“I didn’t know. My congratulations.”
She gave him a stunning smile. “I guess the crew’s been slacking in the grapevine department.”
“I’ll straighten them out.”
She laughed. “I’ve been curious about you. You sure have shaken things up over at Station 1.”
“I just do my job. The rest is out of my hands.”
“I know what you mean.” She led him into the kitch
en, where Captain Brody was stirring a pot of beef stew, judging by the delicious aroma of rosemary. “Things do tend to get out of hand over there. Sweetie, Chief Roman’s here and he brought us some wine.”
“Glad you could make it, Roman. Here, have at it.” Brody tossed him a corkscrew, which Roman deftly caught. He busied himself with opening the wine and filling the glasses Melissa retrieved from a cupboard.
He nearly choked on his first sip of wine when Melissa asked, “So what’s your take on the curse?”
“I have no take on it.”
Brody cast an affectionately scolding glance at his wife. “He’s not here to be interviewed. She’s a reporter,” he explained. “They’re always on the job. Watch what you say.”
Melissa, who was passing behind Brody on her way to the refrigerator, pinched his butt in revenge.
Roman made a mental note not to say anything incriminating. “Can’t say I’m a big fan of your profession at the moment. Can you get them to lay off the firehouse? And especially Sabina Jones?”
It felt good to say her name, as if doing so conjured her vivid, elegant face and supple body into the room with them.
“Sadly, I’m not Queen of the Media. And Sabina can handle herself.” A wailing cry came from another part of the house. “Dani’s awake. Be right back.” Melissa put the cheese and cracker plate she’d assembled on the table and hurried away. Brody gave the stew one last stir and then joined Roman at the table.
“That was a hell of a rescue,” he said, sitting down and resting one ankle on the opposite knee. “As Sabina’s former captain, I’m extremely grateful. She’s a fine firefighter and a pretty exceptional person.”
Roman couldn’t argue with that.
“She worked her ass off from day one,” Brody continued. “Never seen anyone so tough on herself. Stubborn as a wildfire in a windstorm. I just sat back and watched her take on the doubters, one by one. I have huge respect for that woman.”
Something in Brody’s tone made Roman go still. “Hold on. Did you know? Who she was?”
“I did. Don’t tell her, though. People are entitled to their secrets. She always kept a certain distance.”
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