by Lori Foster
Mick looked her over, then quickly averted his eyes. Was it that obvious, Amanda wondered? Could Mick tell so easily that she’d been fooling around with Josh at the most inappropriate time? That rather than tending to her obligations and pushing sales of the calendar to earn more money for the burn center, she’d been getting groped instead?
Wonderfully groped, Amanda corrected herself. Almost groped to the point of oblivion.
Her face flushed.
Evidently, her situation was very obvious, because Mick rubbed a hand over his jaw and stared at the ceiling. “Yeah, sure,” he said, sounding ill at ease. “I’ll tell them. That ought to buy you a few minutes at least, as long as they know more calendars are on the way.”
“Thank you.”
“I could, ah, fetch them for you,” Mick offered to the ceiling, “if you want to tell me where they’re at?”
Amanda wondered if she had a big red G on her forehead for “groped.” The way Mick acted, she wouldn’t be at all surprised. “Thank you, but I need to get back anyway.”
Mick glanced at Josh, and Amanda saw their shared man-to-man look. Mick’s expression said, “I tried,” and Josh returned a silent “thanks for the effort.”
“All right.” Mick headed off, saying over his shoulder, “I’ll go appease the mob. Just don’t be too long.”
The second he was gone, Josh closed the door and turned to stare down at Amanda with his fists propped on his lean hips. “Don’t you dare start feeling embarrassed,” he ordered.
She all but sputtered a laugh. “Josh, anyone would be embarrassed right now! Mick knew exactly what we were doing.”
“So?” Josh shrugged, the picture of unconcern. “Now he knows we’re human. Big deal. He’s not exactly a choirboy himself.”
Amanda wasn’t about to discuss all this with Josh now, not with people waiting for her. Besides, she was embarrassed, but she wasn’t exactly ashamed. And not for one single second did she fool herself into thinking she’d have called a halt to what they were doing. If it hadn’t been for Mick’s interruption, they might have ended up being caught in a much more compromising position.
That thought brought another, and Amanda wondered just what position Josh might have initiated. No doubt, he knew dozens of positions appropriate to making love in an empty office.
“What?” Josh asked. A crooked smile tilted one side of his mouth as he leaned closer. His eyes warmed. “What naughty things are you thinking, Ms. Barker?”
Amanda bit her lip, chagrined once again that he could so easily read her. But she was too curious not to ask. “How would we have…you know. In here?”
Josh froze, then groaned and ran his hand through his hair, leaving the dark blond locks on end. “You’re killing me.” He pretended his knees were weak and slumped against the wall. “That’s a loaded question, honey, guaranteed to give a guy a boner. That is, if I didn’t already have one, which I do.”
Amanda’s eyes widened, but she managed not to look. She ended up with a dazed, goggle-eyed stare, but she kept her attention fixed firmly on his face.
Josh laughed and reached for her. “Tell you what. Tonight, when we finish this damn reception, I’ll show you.”
Her heart lodged in her throat at that promise. “Yes, all right.”
Amanda smiled at him, then edged toward the door. If she didn’t leave now the damn posse might find her accosting Josh. Seeing him look so disheveled, she paused and reached for her hair with a sudden concern. Would everyone know what she’d been doing? Or was Mick just more intuitive because he knew Josh and his sexual propensities? “Do I look okay?”
Josh touched her cheek with an unsteady hand. “Babe, no woman could look better.”
Amanda was still high on that compliment when she slipped from the room and hurried down the back hallway to the rear door. She assumed Josh would present himself out front shortly, and would buy her enough time to restock the calendars.
The frigid wind cut right through her suit jacket and blouse when she stepped into the lot where her car was parked. Silvery light from streetlamps lent an eerie glow to the cold dark night and reflected off the falling sleet, which now covered her car and was turning the lot into a slick treacherous sheet of ice.
The driver’s door was frozen shut and Amanda had to work to get it open. She looked around and saw ice hanging heavily from every phone wire and tree branch. The crackling of sleet peppering the pavement mingled with the sound of the howling wind.
It was a miserable night.
Her hands and nose felt numb and her knees were knocking together by the time Amanda headed back in. She wished she’d had enough sense to grab her coat, but she’d been daydreaming about Josh and that carnal promise of his instead. Shivering uncontrollably, arms laden with boxes, she struggled with the heavy back door.
A second later the door flew open and she almost toppled over. Josh.
“What the hell are you doing out there alone?” he demanded.
Her uncontrollable shriek of surprise echoed up and down the hallway. Josh relieved her of the cumbersome boxes and Amanda thanked him by punching him in the shoulder. “You scared me half to death,” she accused, once she’d caught her breath.
“You need scaring.” He caught her arms and hugged her close, sharing some of his warmth. Amanda noticed he was now wearing a shirt and coat.
Through chattering teeth, she said, “I had to get more calendars. You already knew that.”
His scowl darkened. “I thought you had them somewhere in the building, not outside. You should have sent me, or let Mick go when he offered.”
Her face was still pressed against him. He felt warm and smelled delicious and she said without thinking, “I needed to cool down anyway.”
His hands, which had been coasting up and down her back, paused. Then he squeezed her and groaned. “I must be cursed.”
Amanda tilted back to see him and got an awful premonition. “Josh, what’s wrong?”
“I have to go into work.”
Her heart sank. “Now?”
“Unfortunately, yeah.” He began rubbing her again, in apology, in regret. “One of the supervisors has the flu. He’s heading home, so I need to finish out his shift.”
Amanda wanted to cry. Her body still buzzed with need, every part of her felt too sensitive, too…ready. She said, “Damn.”
Josh smiled. “I know. Believe me, if I had any other choice, I’d grab it.”
Her next thought was whether or not he’d come over after he’d finished the shift. She knew she’d gladly wait up. She finally felt ready to take the big step. Tonight could be the night. Sure, she’d had a few ill moments, thinking of that long-ago fire and what had resulted from her irresponsibility, but she still wanted Josh. Fiercely.
As usual, Josh read her mind. “I won’t be off till sometime in the morning. Probably around three.” Then he cupped her face and tipped it up and kissed her. His tongue moved softly, deeply into her mouth until her shivers were all gone and she felt feverish. “Think about me tonight,” he murmured against her mouth, “and tomorrow I swear I’ll make the wait worth your while.”
With those provocative words, Josh turned and stalked out through the door she’d just entered. Amanda was left with only the churning of lust.
Lust, and something so much more.
9
JOSH STARED through the thick, angry black smoke and gave a silent curse. Long before they’d arrived on the scene, they’d smelled the acrid scent and he’d known, he’d just known, this particular fire was going to be a bitch.
His muscles hurt, his head pounded and he was so hot it felt like his skin was roasted beneath his turn-out coat. His gear, including the S.C.B.A., or air-pack, seemed to weigh more than the usual fifty pounds, thanks to his exhaustion.
They’d first gone in without hoses, intent only on rescue. They’d accomplished that much while neighbors all shouted at once, pointing, telling them about the shy quiet single lady still inside on the
upper floor. The woman, who Josh had carried out himself, was now in the back of the ambulance being tended. She was a skinny little thing, in her late thirties, disoriented, probably suffering some smoke inhalation and shock, but she’d live.
Given the frigid temperatures and general nastiness of the frozen night, it was one of the worst fires Josh had ever encountered.
They worked their asses off with little success.
The fire spread too quickly, feeding off piles of old newspaper and accumulated junk, licking across dry rotted carpet and up the blistered walls. The howling wind seemed to spur it on, rushing in through shattered windows.
Josh’s flashlight flickered over a faded floral couch, now turning orange in flames, then over a pile of books, what looked like an antique desk, a rickety footstool. The place was cluttered, proving the small female being treated outside was a pack rat. Josh searched through the house, seeing objects take shape, forming in the dark as he approached them.
He felt his way through the blackness, checking carefully, watching for a hand, the reflection of pale flesh, anything that might prove to be human.
The narrow flashlight beam bounced off a moving object and Josh crawled closer, then heard a cat’s warning yowl. Twin green eyes glowered at him from beneath a small round table tucked into a corner. The cat looked panicked, ready to attack.
Josh’s thick gloves provided some protection when he snagged the fat animal and hauled it protectively close to his body. The smell of singed fur burned his nostrils and he crooned in sympathy.
His croon turned to yell a second later as sharp claws managed to connect with his flesh. Josh was barely able to maintain his tight hold on the feline.
Three loud blasts of the rig horn penetrated the crackle and hiss of the surrounding fire.
“Let’s go,” Josh said, and signaled the retreat. Three blasts of the horn meant the house was compromised. It was get out now, or maybe not get out at all. Everyone began exiting, Josh a little awkwardly given he had a furious cat tucked into his side.
The second he stepped into the snow-covered yard, the fresh cold air hit him like a welcome slap. Josh flipped up his visor and removed his air mask. There were reporters everywhere, mingling with the noisy neighbors. A flashbulb temporarily blinded him and enraged the cat. It lurched out his arms and shot up a nearby tree in a blur of breakneck speed. Perched on an ice-covered branch, out of harm’s way, it took to yowling again.
Josh heard his name called and turned. More pictures were taken, but he didn’t even have the chance to get annoyed. The woman they’d pulled from her bed hung on the arm of one of the firefighters. She was now wrapped warmly in someone’s coat and a blanket, her thin legs shoved into heavy boots to protect her feet from the cold. Her hair stood on end, and she stumbled toward Josh, her eyes wide and unseeing, her face utterly white in the glow of the moon and the reflecting flames.
“My baby!” she screamed, nearly beside herself. “You have to get my baby!” And she lurched toward the house, falling to her knees in the snow, sobbing, trying to crawl.
Josh went rigid. He looked back at the house, glowing red from within. His heart struck his ribs, his muscles clenched. Goddamnit, no!
“Please,” the woman moaned, “oh please,” and she fought against the restraining hands, as vicious in her upset as the poor cat had been.
Josh locked his jaw, trying to think in the two seconds he didn’t really have. His senior tailboard firefighter, fists clenched, shoulders hunched, said, “I’ll go.”
Josh felt sick. This was the type of decision he didn’t like to make. “You’re volunteering for a blind, left-hand search in a totally involved fire?”
The firefighter nodded grimly. “Damn right.”
Josh understood. He’d already decided to go back in himself.
Then, almost like a gentle stroke, he remembered Amanda. Men had thought she was inside, when she wasn’t. During the trauma of a fire, it was difficult as hell to be rational, but that was his job, and now Amanda had helped him.
The probability seeped into him, easing past the exhaustion and fear and the rush of adrenaline, beyond his instinct to charge back inside to save a child, regardless of the odds. It helped him to think above the roar of the fire, the consuming heat, the shouting of all the neighbors, the local media and the wailing of the panicked woman.
A single woman. Living all alone, the neighbors had said. In her late thirties…
Josh took three long strides to the frightened woman, dropped to his knees so he could hold her shoulders. “Where’s the baby?” he asked, and got nothing but hysterical sobs in reply.
He caught her thin, ravaged face in his dirty gloved hands and made her meet his probing gaze. “Where,” Josh demanded, “is the baby?”
She blinked tear-swollen eyes, sniffed, then covered her face. Her voice quavered and rose as she wailed, “Upstairs. I think he’s still upstairs!”
I think. Josh drew an unsteady breath, silently praying. “Give me a description.”
Wiping her eyes on the edge of the blanket, she nodded. “He’s fat, mostly black with a white tip on his tail.” She shuddered. “Oh please, please find him for me.”
Josh collapsed. All the strength left his body and he slumped onto his ass with a great sigh of relief.
“The cat,” he said, and smiled. Without giving it another thought he caught the woman and pulled her into him, hugging her close. “I got your cat, Miss. He’s fine, I promise. Look there in the tree.” Josh, still supporting her, turned her with his body and pointed. “See him? He’s plenty peeved, and howling to raise the moon, but he’s not hurt.”
With a cry, the woman stumbled away from Josh and ran awkwardly in the too-big boots and long coat. Two men, concerned because she was so frail, raced behind her. Josh laughed out loud, then scrubbed his hands over his face. “Oh, God.”
“You okay?” Another firefighter, a friend, put a hand on Josh’s shoulder.
“Hell yeah.” Josh looked up at the starless sky, felt the prickling of frozen rain on his face, the bite of a cutting wind. “Hell yeah,” he said with more energy. “I’m great.”
It was another two hours before they’d finished raking the charred insides of the house out to the sidewalk. It all had to be broken apart and hosed down. Normally that was the hardest part for Josh, seeing someone’s life reduced to a black heap on the curb. Furniture, clothing, memories, all gone.
But this time what he saw was the woman sitting in the back of the ambulance, dirty and disheveled, wearing someone else’s clothes—and cuddling her “baby” wrapped in a thick warm blanket.
Josh was amazed to see her smiling, occasionally singing, and even from where he swung his ax several yards away, he could have sworn he heard that big cat purring in bliss.
Tears stung his eyes, not that Josh gave a damn. If anyone noticed, he’d blame it on the smoke. But in that moment, he made up his mind. When they finished, he wouldn’t go home to get some much-needed sleep as he’d intended. He’d go to Amanda, where he belonged. He’d tell her how much he loved her, how much he needed her, and it would have to be enough.
He’d make it be enough—for both of them.
AMANDA JERKED her front door open the minute she heard the rumbling of the approaching car. Josh! She’d watched the unfolding details of the fire on the news, fretting, sick at heart, wanting and needing to be with him. At first she just hoped he’d come to her when his shift was over. Then she’d decided if he didn’t, she would go to him.
Snow and ice crunched beneath her slippers as she ran through the twilight morning to greet him, unmindful of the cold frosting her breath, the wind howling through her robe.
Josh turned off his car lights, and Amanda noticed the sheer exhaustion that seemed to weigh him down as he sat a moment behind the wheel.
Then he saw her.
Quickly stepping out of the car, Josh said, “Hey,” and he caught her as she launched herself against him. “What is it, babe?”
He was warm and hard and alive, so big and so strong. Amanda wanted to touch him all over, to absorb him and his strength and his goodness. She needed to know that he was all right, that the fire hadn’t touched him.
Her arms locked around his neck and she squeezed him when he hauled her off her feet, out of the snow. She couldn’t speak at first, but then he must have decided that was okay. He lifted her into his arms, cradled her to his chest and stalked to her front door with a type of leashed urgency.
Once inside he kicked her front door closed and went straight to the bedroom and the bed, stretching out with her. Amanda just held on, aware of the tension in his muscles, in his mood. He trembled, his face buried in her neck, his breath coming too fast. His thick arms were steel bands, circling her, getting her as close as possible.
Her throat felt tight and she tried to soothe him. “Josh.”
Had something happened to him? Just the thought made her frantic, but she kept her tone calm and easy for him. Smoothing her hand through his thick, still damp hair, she said, “Please, tell me you’re all right.”
He nuzzled into her. “Yeah.” His voice was thick with emotion. Rolling to his back and pulling her into his side, he said, “You heard about the fire?”
“It was on the news.” They didn’t look at each other. Amanda pushed his coat open so she could touch him, not leather. He wore an untucked flannel over a soft thermal shirt and he felt warm and hard and—she wanted him naked.
The thought came out of nowhere, but it was true. She wanted to assure herself that he wasn’t hurt in any way.
Josh groaned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of that.”
Amanda went to work on the buttons of his shirt, almost popping them in her haste. “You’re not supposed to think of me. Not on the job, not when it’s dangerous.”
Josh started to protest and she sat up to work his coat off him. He obliged her, twisting his arms free, then giving a raw chuckle when she did the same with his flannel. Amanda tossed them both to the floor. She eyed his thermal shirt, caught the hem and tugged it upward.
“What are you doing, baby?” Josh asked, even as he raised up to help her get it off.