Wild Fire

by Tiffinie Helmer

  “So, what previous engagement do you have for standing me up tomorrow night and leaving me alone to fend for myself with the Avedas?” He’d wanted to ask since she’d mentioned it but couldn’t in front of Mrs. Aveda. He hoped to God she didn’t have a date.

  “No plans as of yet, but I’ll find something to do even if it’s washing my hair. There was no way I was attending that dinner.”

  “If I’d only been so quick.”

  “The trick is to have a few standard responses that you fall back on at the ready. Then you don’t have to struggle to come up with an excuse.”

  He sipped his drink and crossed his legs, leaning back in the leather cushions, the whiskey and conversation relaxing him. “Do tell. What are some of your standard responses?”

  She swallowed a sip of whiskey, moving her glass back and forth between her palms. “The one you’ve already heard, and it’s a classic and covers most situations. The trick is not to overexplain why you can’t attend. Leave it as a statement and say it with conviction.”

  He nodded and gestured for her to continue.

  “Well, let’s see. There’s the ‘unbelievable’ for when someone asks how things are going. They could be unbelievably good or bad with that one. And then there’s ‘Interesting, I’ll have to check into that,’ for situations that involve politics or religion when you know if you state your true opinion it will result in an argument you don’t want to get into.”

  “Damn, they needed to teach this in school.”

  “Not everything is learned in school.”

  “I’ll drink to that.”

  She studied him in the low light from the lamp on his desk, and he knew she thought she should make her excuses and leave, but the whiskey had relaxed her and she was enjoying this intimate moment of conversation with him and didn’t want it to end too soon.

  “Why didn’t you specialize in medical school?” she asked.

  “I like not knowing what I’ll face from one patient to the next. We’re alike in that regard, you and I—both of us need constant challenges.” He loosened his tie while he talked and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt, then he went to work releasing the buttons of his cuffs and rolling them up.

  She couldn’t look away, swallowing. He wondered if she wanted to help him undress further. She lifted her glass and found it empty.

  “Would you like another?” Gideon asked, his eyes having gone slumberous.

  “No, I should be getting home.”

  “Or we could go out to dinner?” he suggested. “Have that third date.”

  “Not a good idea.” She stood and backed up toward the door. “What time would you like me here in the morning?”

  “Eight, if you can make it.”

  “Will do, boss.”

  “And Kennadee,” he called after her.

  She turned back and seemed surprised to find him still in the same spot. “Yes?”

  “We will have that third date. Soon.”

  He chuckled as she ran from the room.

  Chapter 18

  The next two weeks were filled with Kennadee helping out at the clinic, doing her own physical therapy, and upping her workouts so that she’d still be in top shape for when she returned to the fire station.

  Gideon worked tirelessly for his patients, going way above any doctor Kennadee had met. He took time, listened, and had a steel trap for a memory.

  Rea had been told by her gynecologist to limit the hours on her feet and only worked part-time. Eventually, she wouldn’t be able to do that as her pregnancy progressed. Kennadee started scheduling interviews for Gideon to hire more help because she couldn’t commit to filling in for the next eight months.

  Once she had the green light from her doctor saying she could return to work, she would be out of here. Though the thought didn’t please her as much as she figured it would. She enjoyed helping out at the clinic.

  Seeing Gideon in his element had another effect on her that she didn’t want to examine too closely. He was a great doctor, competent, compassionate, taking time to listen and build relations with the citizens of Heartbreak.

  No God complex, no lording his position over others. If anything, he appealed to her more each day.

  Her plan of spending time around him to diminish her attraction to him wasn’t working. If anything, it had increased her need for him. He seemed to know the effect he had on her. While he hadn’t made a move since he’d had her against the wall weeks ago, he’d casually brush against her in the hallway, share longing gazes she found hard to break, and remove his hand ever so slowly if he had a chance to touch her, like passing a thermometer or tongue depressor.

  Each night at the close of business, they continued the “debriefing” Gideon had introduced the first day. Sometimes they’d share a drink, others times they called in takeout—which she refused to classify as a date—and talked.

  Their conversation consisted mostly of what had happened that day, but every now and then—more so of late—it ventured deeper into sharing of their hopes and dreams.

  She told him of her love of fighting fires, the thrill of beating back a thunderous blaze. The rush she received from jumping out of airplanes and being stranded in the wilds of Alaska, challenged by the state she loved so much. He told her of his time in the lower forty-eight and the culture shock of living in a big city and how he hadn’t adjusted well to civilized society, though he did like the suits.

  She agreed that he looked hot in his suits, then sobered when the sexual strain between them became a delicious torture.

  Each night, at some point in their conversation, one of them would slip and the tension would thicken until Kennadee made a strategic retreat.

  Then it would all start all over again the next day.

  She’d never been so sexually aware of any man before, her nerves hyper aware of everything he did, from breathing to the unconscious rubbing of his temple with his forefinger when in deep thought as he reviewed a patient’s chart.

  “Kennadee?”

  She glanced up to find Joanna looking at her strangely. She’d been caught at the desk, staring off into space. Something she did too much of as of late.

  “Are you okay? I’ve called your name three times.”

  “Yeah, fine. What’s up?”

  “There’s only one more patient on the schedule, and I already have her in exam room two. I was hoping to cut out early. I have a date tonight that I’d like to spruce up for.”

  “Sure, no problem. I’ve got this. You go and have fun.”

  “Thanks. Here’s her chart. Have a good weekend and I’ll see you Monday.”

  Kennadee waved her off and glanced up as Gideon walked his current patient out. “Ms. Wilde, please schedule Mr. Stinson with an appointment in two weeks.”

  “Certainly.” She pulled up the calendar on the computer and made the appointment, writing out a card for Mr. Stinson and handing it to him. After he left, she turned back to find Gideon looking over the chart of the last patient, his forefinger rubbing his temple.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “Hmm,” he replied. He closed the file and met her gaze. “Shall we?”

  She followed him into the exam room to find a dark, curly-haired little girl, maybe five or six years old. Her mother sat next to her, worrying her thumbnail between her teeth.

  “How’s my favorite patient doing today?” Gideon asked, kneeling down to be at the little girl’s level.”

  “Hi, Dr. Raz. You aren’t going to take my blood again, are you?” she asked in a quiet, worried voice.

  “No blood taking today,” Gideon reassured her with a smile. “Olivia, I’d like you to meet my friend, Ms. Wilde. She saved your blood tests and got them to the lab for me when I was in my accident.”

  “I heard about you,” the little girl gushed. “You saved my favorite doctor’s life. I really hate when he has to poke me with needles, even though I really like him.” She lowered her head, blushing.
r />   “Are you taking your insulin?” Gideon asked.

  “I’ve been good with my shots and finger pricks,” Olivia said, swinging her feet.

  “Any problems?” This Gideon directed to her mother.

  “She’s been a trooper.”

  “I expected nothing less of my favorite patient.” Gideon ruffled the girl’s curls, and she gifted him with a huge, toothless smile. “You’re staying away from the sweets, right?”

  “Yes, I was strong at my friend’s birthday party and didn’t even have one bite of cake.”

  “I’m so proud of you, Olivia.” He directed his next question to Olivia’s mother. “You’re continuing to see the nutritionist?”

  “Yes, she’s been wonderful. Extremely helpful, just like you said. It helps that she’s also living with diabetes.”

  Kennadee stood struck hard with emotions swelling in her throat until she couldn’t breathe. Tears threatened as she watched Gideon with Olivia.

  Right there, in the exam room she was hit with love for him so strong that it buckled her knees and she had to lean against the wall as dizziness assaulted her.

  Gideon continued to talk with Olivia and her mother, answering the mother’s questions and conversing with Olivia, but Kennadee couldn’t make out what he was saying with the buzzing in her head.

  She didn’t want to feel this way. She didn’t want to love him, but she could no longer deny it.

  She, Kennadee Wilde, sworn bachelorette, was in love.

  Olivia threw herself into Gideon’s arms, and he caught her up in a tight hug. “Thank you, Dr. Raz. I love you,” Olivia gushed.

  “I love you, too, Olivia,” he said, returning the hug.

  Kennadee knew exactly how the little girl felt. She wanted to throw herself into his arms too.

  Gideon carried the girl and walked her mother to the door while Kennadee stayed there in the exam room too stunned by the revelation to move.

  What did she do?

  Part of her wanted to run. But she wasn’t a coward. She didn’t run from anything and certainly not a man.

  Gideon returned and peeked into the waiting room. “You okay?” he looked at her worriedly, a frown marring his brow.

  No, she wasn’t fine. Her world had just been tipped upside down. “Will Olivia be okay?”

  “With treatment. Juvenile diabetes isn’t the death sentence it once was. She’s a sweetheart and a real fighter.” He cocked his head to the side. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay. You look really pale. Is your shoulder paining you?”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  It’s my heart, she wanted to cry. Fix it. But there would be no fixing what ailed her.

  “I don’t like your color. You need to sit down. Did you miss lunch? Are you feeling faint because you look like you’re going to keel over at any moment?” He led her into his office and pushed her down onto the couch, then he knelt in front of her like he had little Olivia. “Look at me.”

  She kept her eyes downcast, not wanting him to see the emotions swimming in her eyes.

  “What is it, Kennadee?” he asked softly, laying his hands on her knees and running them up and down her legs. “Talk to me, honey. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Slowly she raised her head and met his eyes.

  His widened as he read the emotional turmoil in hers, and his hand came up and cupped her cheek.

  “What did I do?” he whispered, clearly upset that he might have hurt her.

  “You made me love you, you son of a bitch,” she whispered, tears thick in her voice, and then she threw herself into his arms like Olivia had, except she also planted her mouth over his. The force of her action caused him to topple over onto the floor with a “oomph” as she landed on top of him.

  Chapter 19

  Gideon tore his mouth free, rolled Kennadee over, and captured her hands in each of his, forcing them to the floor on each side of her head. “Wait a damn minute. What the hell did you just say?”

  “You heard me.” She moaned. “Please don’t make me repeat it.”

  “Damn right, you’re going to repeat it, woman,” he demanded, his expression hard and brittle as marble. “And often, starting now.”

  She growled in frustration. It was bad enough she’d said it the first time. “I love you, you bossy, sexy man. Now what are you going to do about it?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, baffled, clearly stunned. “I never thought you would actual say the words.”

  “Here’s a hint.” She arched into him.

  “Here?”

  “Yes, here, and now. I’m through waiting for you, damn it.”

  He swallowed hard and hesitated as if suddenly nervous. “We haven’t even had our third date yet.”

  “And we aren’t going to.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Care to explain?”

  “I told you, I only date men three times—at the most—and then it’s over.”

  “So, in your convoluted thinking, if we never have another date—”

  “Yes, we have a third date, and I’ll have to stop seeing you.”

  He laughed, the sound strained yet buoyant. “Good God, I have to be certifiable to love you as much as I do.”

  “Yep, that’s exactly what every girl wants to hear.” She struggled in his hold. “Let go of my hands.”

  “Why, so you can punch me? Not a chance.”

  Guess, he really did know a thing or two about her.

  He smiled down at her, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. This wasn’t his sweet, seductive smile that had her insides fluttering. No, this one spoke of possession, turning him into the brigand she’d described him as before, and she had a feeling her fancy-free reputation was about to be truly and thoroughly ruined.

  “You said the words, you know what that means?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “You’re mine now, and I’m not letting you go.” He took her mouth with force and no finesse, emotions running too hot and deep for technique. It was honest and brutal, a branding, and it totally inflamed her.

  Tearing his lips from hers, he buried his face in her hair and tried to compose himself. “Christ, I love the smell of you. Let me have you, taste you, love you.”

  His words squeezed her heart, and she softened under him. “I want you, Gideon Rasmussen, more than I’ve wanted any other man. It’s feral, this craving I have for you.”

  He rose above her, searching her eyes for the truth of her words. Then he leaned down and lightly kissed her, his lips tenderly brushing once, twice. “I’ve dreamt of touching you again, taking my time and not being that teenager who fumbled over you in a tent full of cushions, hoping I didn’t do something wrong, or make a fool of myself, that I could pleasure you properly.”

  “Well, now here’s your chance. Don’t squander it.”

  He chuckled at her words, touching her tenderly, taking his time, undressing her, cupping her breasts reverently as he revealed them to his heated gaze. Skimming his lips over her nipples, his fingers lightly stroked her skin, teasingly dipping into the waistband of her pants and then flitting away. When he finally sucked her nipple into the heat of his mouth, lavishing it with his tongue, she arched like a bow, a gasp escaping her.

  “Gideon,” she sobbed his name, her head tossing side to side on the rug. “Please,” she begged, trembling with need to have him inside her.

  “Please, what, Kennadee? Tell me what you want.”

  She didn’t want tender, she wanted him fast, and deep. Now.

  Shamelessly, she spread her legs and rubbed against him, pulling at her restrained hands, hands he refused to release. “I want you underneath me, me taking you inside of me, deep and deeper still until we don’t know where one of us begins and the other ends.”

  He swore, his eyes shuttering closed as he pictured the image her words painted. He released her and finished stripping her naked, then tore at his tie, the buttons of his shirt, and the zipper of his suit pants until he was as gloriously naked as she. He allowed her
to push him to his back, his eyes wide, the pupils black in their dilated state, as she straddled him.

  “Do I need protection?” he asked, gasping.

  “No. I’m on the pill.”

  “Thank you, Christ.”

  She positioned herself over him, her eyes now shuttering closed in anticipation of feeling him a part of her finally again.

  He grabbed her hips, holding her prisoner above him, his shaft barely breeching her slick folds. “Look at me,” he demanded.

  She opened her eyes, her focus fuzzy, then it sharpened until all she could see was him, the center of her world.

  “I love you,” he said fiercely, and then waited, refusing to let her settle over him, even though her body wept for him.

  He made it clear in the searing way he pinned her with his eyes, as surely as he gripped her hips, his fingers biting into the soft flesh, keeping her locked in that tortuous place with pleasure just out of reach that he needed to hear her return the words, here, now. A pledge, a binding of souls and hearts between them.

  “I love you too,” she sobbed, then cried out in triumph as he surged upward, taking her hard and deep, plunging into her wet heat and stealing her breath. Her back bowed and she took him even deeper, as deep as she physically could.

  The sudden orgasm flashed hot and fast, scorching her as it blazed through her like a wildfire, destroying everything that had come before, leaving a fertile field ripe for possibilities.

  He turned savage, flipping her onto her back and thrusting into her again and again, holding himself back until she shattered once more, crying his name.

  Mindless, her body boneless, she heard him shout her name, felt his body tense, muscles coiling, as he emptied himself into her with a victorious war cry.

  Hours later, or mere minutes, Kennadee wasn’t sure as she might have blacked out from the intense pleasure, Gideon rolled them to their sides, cradling her against his chest with a satisfied exhale.

  “Don’t let this go to your head, but no man has ever made me feel like this,” she admitted dreamily.