The Firefighter's Cinderella
Dominique Burton
Every Woman Needs A HeroThe first time C. J. Powell rescues her, Natasha Bennington is running a marathon honoring the memory of their friend. Now her work fighting for humanitarian rights is once again putting her at risk. And the rugged San Francisco firefighter has crowned himself her designated hero!Catching the stunning brunette when she collapses at the finish line isn’t the way C. J. imagined meeting Tasha again. A year ago, she’d been hopelessly in love with his best friend. Now the fiercely dedicated pro bono attorney needs his protection—especially after a deadly threat forces Tasha to flee to C. J. ’s hometown.There are worse things than hiding out in the breathtaking wilds of Alaska with the woman he adores. Now C. J. has a more urgent mission—keeping Tasha safe until the danger’s past and she’s ready to move on…with him.
“Tasha?” The deep baritone voice that had been haunting her all day took her by surprise.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
She felt a thrill of excitement as C.J. drew closer and handed her a flute of champagne. His eyes never left her face as he rested one arm on the railing. “You’re my date. Or did you forget?”
“I don’t remember it being a date. I clearly remember telling you we were coming as friends in order to remember a friend.”
“That sounds like one of my lines.”
She coughed on the champagne she’d just swallowed.
He patted her back none too gently. “Let me know if you need CPR.”
“Then you’d get to be—”Another round of coughs interrupted her. “Y-You’d be a hero twice in one day.”
Dear Reader,
All my life I have loved the Cinderella story and the idea of her finding her prince. This book was special to me because my heroine’s prince was in her life all along. She just didn’t realize he was the one. I loved bringing these characters together in their own magical way—two friends who never imagined they were each other’s true love.
As an avid marathon runner, I’ve learned about the best races to run. The Nike Woman’s Marathon in San Francisco is one of the most sought-after races in the country. As far as marathons go, you are pampered along the way, receive chocolates and other goodies, but the best prize is at the end. A Tiffany and Co. necklace is handed to you by a fireman dressed in a tux. This amazing marathon has raised over $105,000,000 to help victims suffering from leukemia.
The writer in me began to form the story for The Firefighter’s Cinderella, with a fireman hero, a marathon-runner heroine and their love of a lost friend. I hope you enjoy C.J. and Natasha’s story as they fall in love.
Ciao,
Dominique Burton
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
As a young girl with three brothers and a writer for a mother, DOMINIQUE BURTON lived in the imaginary world of books such as Anne of Green Gables and movies starring Indiana Jones. Much of the time, she would write and act out her own stories with Harrison Ford as the hero. Not too shabby for a seven-year-old! Dominique loves Europe, and at the age of twenty, got the wild notion to buy an around-the-world, one-way plane ticket. For six months, she circled the globe alone, studying Italian, learning about other cultures, scuba diving and having a blast. She graduated from the University of Utah with a bachelor’s degree in history. She now lives in South Jordan, Utah, with her husband, two children and three step-children, all of whom she dearly loves. If she’s not writing or reading, she’s out running. A few years ago, Dominique had the privilege of running the Boston Marathon. To learn more, go to www.dominiqueburton.com.
The Firefighter’s
Cinderella
Dominique Burton
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
I want to dedicate this book to so many people!
I send my love to my dear husband, Brad,
for making this book possible. My gratitude goes
to firefighter Christopher Wilcox and his dear wife,
Amelia, for answering questions about the world
of a fireman. And many thanks go to Ranger Jacob
Hoffman, of Ketchikan, Alaska, for bringing the last
frontier to life.
Chapter One
Natasha Bennington could vaguely see mile marker 26 through blurry eyes.
She prayed her legs would hold for the final two-tenths of the marathon.
Normally she loved the vistas of Ocean Beach that Great Avenue Highway in San Francisco provided. Today Tasha couldn’t have cared less. All she could think about was reaching the finish line. She brought the water bottle to her lips, but no amount could quench her thirst.
The sun was so hot! She adjusted her visor again and hoped her body would keep moving. As a native of the cosmopolitan city on the bay, she couldn’t remember the weather ever being this suffocating in early September. Was she imagining the heat? She could feel herself slowing as she trudged along the sweltering route.
Over the music playing on her headphones, she could hear the shouting and screaming from onlookers who lined the streets to cheer on their loved ones. It hurt to know there was no one yelling for her, let alone waiting for her at the finish line.
As the only child of United States Congressman George Bennington, she had spent all twenty-seven years of her life as a side note in his demanding schedule. Her mother, Genevieve Armstrong Bennington, was his perfect counterpart, ready at a moment’s notice to attend parties, events and galas. Once he’d risen to power nothing stood in his way, especially not parental duties at home.
Rounding the last corner, Tasha could sense her mind becoming disjointed from her body. She’d heard marathons were ninety percent mental. Now she knew why. The only thing that kept her moving was the need to follow her fellow runners up Lincoln Way.
Why the pavement seemed hotter on this street than any other was beyond her ability to process.
And now her shoes were failing her—those trustworthy, failsafe, special pair of running shoes she’d bought three weeks ago. Her feet burned with every step she took. The heat was like venom, swiftly taking over her whole body.
As she passed the last water station, Tasha grabbed cup after cup to dump on her head in an attempt to cool herself off. She knew she looked like a disaster, but it didn’t matter. She tried to remember why her coworkers, who’d become her close friends this past year, weren’t going to be here. At this point it was difficult to remember any names.
Oh, yeah. Richard and Daphne.
Now, why were they gone?
Work?
Work!
She knew she needed to focus on something other than the pain so she wouldn’t collapse.
The bill from Arizona. She took another sip from her water bottle.
Focus! The damned Bill SB 1070 from Arizona! That bill impeded her cause of helping illegal immigrants already in America. She hated the term “Illegal Aliens.”
These were real people trying to get green cards and become citizens. It was because of bills like this one that she’d started her pro bono practice.
Her father had been furious with her for leaving the prestigious Bennington and Bennington law firm her grandfather had started with his brother. Tasha’s desire to help the very people her dad was determined to keep out of the country through his power as a congressman made things even worse.
Now, what are Richard and Daphne working on?
Oh, yeah. The Mendez case!
At the thought of the name, she could feel another kind of fire burning inside her. If there was one person in all Northern California who was her nemesis, it was Fernando Mendez.
The workers in the fields of his famous Napa Valley vineyards were all illegal immigrants. Mendez and his men lured innocent men and women from Mexico and Latin American countries to his grape fields with promises of green cards, or better yet, citizenship!
Except it was all a lie.
Once the workers got here, they were stuck, left with no choice but to work and live under deplorable conditions, hiding from the law.
Now that Mendez was under federal investigation for running a drug cartel and participating in money laundering, as well as other criminal activities, Tasha knew Border Patrol would be involved in raids. People working in the vineyards without papers would be sent home.
An old roommate of Tasha’s who worked the legal angle at Border Patrol had called her at ten last night. He’d warned there might be a raid at Mendez’s vineyard this weekend. As a precaution, she’d sent Daphne and Richard to see if one did occur, and if so, who was taken.
At least ten families had come to her firm for help. They depended on her and her team to keep their members together. Tasha and her two trusted coworkers wanted to help these poor people whose only crime was to strive for a better life.
That was what her forefathers had wanted when they’d immigrated to America.
For the past year, Tasha’s paralegal secretary, Daphne, had been like a sister to her. And Richard, the new attorney who’d come on board ten months ago, had been her biggest support in the courtroom—as well as for this marathon. He’d been her jogging buddy, teaching her how to run properly and train. If he hadn’t, she wouldn’t have been fit enough to do this race.
He’d also introduced her to a new way of eating. It was amazing how a low-carbohydrate, high-protein diet helped take the weight off, yet gave her lots of energy to train.
But right now she felt so alone. No coach, no friends and no Tim. Oh, don’t think about him. It isn’t allowed, Tasha. You have to move on.
At the finish line, marked by an arbor of balloons, the official timer was ticking. Just above it stretched the banner reading The Tim McGinnis Firefighters against Cancer Foundation Marathon.
Seeing Tim’s name filled Tasha with renewed pain. One year ago today she’d lost him to cancer. He’d been her best friend since childhood, and the only man she’d ever loved.
Instead of wallowing in sorrow, she’d done all the legal work to put this race together. Tim was a person who’d lived life to the fullest. He was always running, biking, rock climbing and, of course, fighting fires.
Since she was five Tasha had been in love with him, even if he hadn’t felt the same way about her. Deep inside she’d hoped that one day his feelings would change and he would love her back.
“Stupid girl,” she muttered.
Drawing closer to the finish line, she saw several of Tim’s fellow firefighters, who were volunteering on their day off. They were hard at work cutting timer chips off the runners’ shoes and presenting them with medals.
Among them was Captain C. J. Powell, whom Tim had considered his best friend. She hadn’t seen C.J. since the funeral.
The funeral …
Tasha had tried so hard to focus on moving forward with her life that she rarely looked back to mourn the man she’d cared about her whole life. But now grief unexpectedly swamped her. This was one aspect of the day she hadn’t mentally prepared for. Reaching the finish line seemed impossible. As her mind began to shut down, her breathing grew shallow. It was just too much.
With only twenty feet or so to go, Tasha got a closer look at C.J. He hadn’t changed one bit. A tall, broad-shouldered man in his mid-thirties, he had dark curly hair and intense blue eyes. Oh, he was a handsome devil, but she knew better than to be deceived.
“Just a few more steps,” she muttered to herself through dry lips as her feet stumbled across the finish line. Her joy and relief were lost in a haze. She felt as if she was falling, and then as if she was being carried. It was a heavenly sensation.
The last thing she remembered seeing was the concern in a pair of blue eyes.
IN HONOR OF HIS LATE best friend, C. J. Powell had been handing out finisher medals at the end of the charity race. He would rather have spent the day at work, but this was for a good cause, and he was happy to help in some way console Tim’s parents in their grief.
He looked up at the bright blue sky and adjusted his sunglasses. The extreme heat had him worried. Many runners crossing the finish line were exhibiting signs of dehydration. If temperatures rose any higher, they could have a disaster on their hands.
He was so deep in his thoughts it took him a moment to notice a woman coming toward him, weaving on her feet. She was clearly overheated, and he could see she was going to collapse.
Fear gripped him as he ran to catch her. Luck was on his side, since she almost seemed to reach for him.
Once he had her slim form in his arms, his EMT training kicked into gear. The woman felt extremely hot. What he could see of her face not blocked by her sunglasses was red and flushed. She needed help, prompting him to shout to one of his colleagues. “Adam?”
The stocky older man jumped up from cutting timer chips off shoes. “Yes, Captain?”
“It’s too damn hot out here for these runners. Talk to Command. We may need to shut this race down.”
“Yes, sir.” The man looked at the woman in C.J.’s arms. “Do you know the patient?”
He glanced down at the willowy brunette and shook his head. “Afraid not, but I think she may have a case of heat exhaustion. I’ll be in triage if any of you need me.”
C.J. couldn’t explain his reaction to the woman he held so close, but it seemed right that he felt oddly protective of her. She had reached out to him. It was his job to get her to the paramedics quickly, and if needed, to an air-conditioned hospital.
A soft moan escaped the woman’s lips, interrupting his thoughts. C.J. hadn’t realized how fast he’d been maneuvering through the crowds. He slowed abruptly, not wanting to cause her any more distress.
The makeshift hospital was located away from the finishers’ corral, set up under some giant trees that offered a tiny bit of relief from the heat. Upon arrival he found a paramedic buddy of his from another station helping out.
“Jim?”
“Captain?”
“This runner may have a case of heatstroke.”
Jim eyed her legs, then lifted his eyebrows. “New girlfriend?”
C.J. was well used to his friend’s jocular manner. Yet for the first time since he’d known him, he didn’t like his teasing tone. C.J. held her closer and gave the other man a firm look that told him to back off.
“New patient.” He knew he sounded surly, but didn’t care.
“Let’s get her comfortable.” Jim led him to a makeshift cot in a shady corner. “By the way,” he said under his breath. “On behalf of our station, I’d like to thank you for the wonderful gift of three live chickens in our lockers.”
C.J. knew exactly what Jim was referring to, but kept his face stoic. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” For years their respective stations had been notorious for playing pranks on each other.
Jim left to get supplies without saying anything else. C.J. smiled and carefully laid his mystery woman on the cot. When he bent over to remove her visor and sunglasses, he realized there was something familiar about her.
He pushed the thought from his mind and undid the bib she wore, knowing she needed his help, not his ogling. An eye check first. Hers looked normal, if you could call eyes that looked like emerald pools normal. Again he seemed to recall something from his past.
C.J. shook his head and went to work. After checking her pulse, he put ice packs around her body and head. Even though she was bright red, with strands from her braided hair plastered to her cheeks and neck, he could tell she was a looker. The streaks of dried salt on the sides of her face accentuated her high cheekbones and full lips.
Once he had her settled, he tried to read the sweat-soaked race bib.
The sound of footsteps told C.J. his colleague was returning.
“Captain?” Jim said. “Just want you to know it only took us two hours to get the chickens out of the station house.” He laughed and chatted as he set up the IV.
It had been a long time since C.J. had laughed over a prank pulled at the station, which brought back memories of his old friend. Before Tim had died, he’d been a carefree man who’d laughed his way through life. If he were still alive, there was no way he’d have confessed to a practical joke they’d pulled.
C.J. and Tim had been known as the best pranksters the station had ever had. Now Troy, an EMT, and some rookies had taken over the job.
C.J. had lost any will to joke since Tim died, especially after he’d been made captain a year ago. But he’d allowed the pranks to continue as long as the boys didn’t get distracted from their work. If they were caught, it meant kitchen detail for a week.
When Jim could see he wasn’t making any progress in the teasing department, he said, “Have you read the patient’s bib? We need the information.”
“No,” C.J. answered curtly. “It’s wet. I’ve been trying to unpin it….”
“We have to get her to a hospital right away. Her temperature’s too high.”
“Pardon?” His thoughts were still caught up in Tim.
“Her temperature’s too high!” Jim repeated. “She needs more care than we can give her here.”
“I feared it might be that serious.” C.J. finally got the bib undone.
“Let’s move her to an ambulance now.” He took off to grab the closest paramedic with an ambulance on standby.
C.J. lifted the bib from her tank top, turning it around to find out the identity of the mystery patient. As he read the name, he did a double take, scanning the information three times to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. This explained how he’d known her. Natasha Bennington!
C.J. could see vestiges of the old Tasha. Sure, she’d always had a pretty face, but she hadn’t looked like this.
Tasha had always been in love with Tim, the girl who’d never looked at another guy. No wonder those eyes had taken C.J. back in time. Natasha Bennington’s eyes often flashed a brilliant green whenever she was laughing or debating.
He shook his head in disbelief at this twist of fate, this strange link to the past. Natasha had loved Tim unconditionally, even knowing he felt only friendship in return.
In all his life C.J. had never seen anything like it. He’d often wondered what it would be like to have a woman love you so completely.
Tim had always claimed he’d been honest with Tasha. They were friends; that was all they ever would be. She understood that.
But Tim’s assessment of their relationship never set right with C.J. If a woman like Natasha had been in his life, he would never have let her just hang around. He would have dated her or ended it.
This new woman lying in front of him was difficult to fathom. He was still trying to figure it out when Jim hurried toward him with the other paramedics, who were ready to take her to the hospital.
“I’ll be accompanying the patient,” C.J. declared. “It turns out she’s a friend.”
“Sir? We need the vital information to contact her family,” one of the paramedics said.
“She’s Congressman Bennington’s daughter, Natasha. We have to keep this quiet. No leaks to the press. Is that understood?” He rose to his full height.
“But she wrote down another name.”
“I’ll check it out.”
The paramedic nodded with a puzzled expression. “I thought she was a heavier-set girl.”
“Well, she’s not anymore.”
C.J. followed the others, intending to keep his eye on the new Natasha. He had a few things he wanted to say to her.
THE LOUD SOUND OF SIRENS reverberated in Tasha’s head. She wondered where it was coming from. Had she slept in and missed the race?
She woke with a start, but found she couldn’t move very well. Looking down at her body, she found herself strapped to a gurney. It dawned on her that she was traveling in an ambulance.
“Tasha?” C.J. said, leaning over to speak to her. “Everything’s okay. We’re taking you to San Francisco General.”
“Those two statements are inconsistent. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Inconsistent?”
“Yes, as in, how am I okay if I’m going to the hospital with you in an ambulance?”
“You’ve always been the feistiest thing.”
“And your point?”
“You’re extremely dehydrated and you fainted in my arms at the finish line. I don’t know if you have heatstroke or heat exhaustion. We have to get you checked out.”
“I’m sure I didn’t faint.”
“Oh, you fainted all right.”
At the memory of collapsing in C.J.’s arms Tasha could feel her cheeks heating. How embarrassing.
“I tried to call your friend Richard, who was listed as your emergency contact. When I reached him, he said he wasn’t in town, and told us to go ahead and call your parents. He seemed very worried.”
“You called my parents?”
“Protocol.”
Her mind raced while she figured out how to handle what was coming. The press would be at the hospital when she was taken from the ambulance. Her day seemed to be getting worse by the minute.
With her dad running for reelection this year, he never missed a chance to be interviewed. She could see him calling his PR team to tip off reporters, so he could get on the evening news tonight.
“Who’s Richard?” C.J. asked.
“Pardon?”
“Richard. Who is he?”
She thought C.J. looked flustered. The fact that he wouldn’t take his eyes off her made her feel a little uncomfortable. For years she’d wondered what it would be like to be the object of his attention.
Better to keep him at arm’s length, she decided. It hurt to be around him because memories of Tim kept surfacing, reminding her of the woman she used to be. Reminding her of the man she’d loved.
“He’s my running buddy.”
“And your boyfriend?”
Tasha refused to answer, but glanced around the ambulance interior, noticing the paramedic. Normally she wasn’t aware of anyone else when C.J. was present, because he was larger than life.
“How close are we to the hospital?” she asked.
“Tasha? Look at me.” He sat on the other gurney, staring at her so intently it made her pulse quicken. “You win,” he eventually muttered. “We’re two minutes away. If you don’t want to talk about Richard, we won’t, but I’m curious.”
“When have you ever been curious about me?”
“You act like I was horrible to you.” He leaned forward.
With his face so close to hers, Tasha had to struggle to think. She could see his clean-shaven jaw and smell his cologne. “You weren’t horrible, but you were never that friendly, either.”
“You, me and Tim were all buds.”
“No, we were never buddies.”
“Tasha … I don’t know you like this. When did you change?”
She flashed him an icy smile. “Let’s see…. I’m not feeling well and I unexpectedly bump into a person from my past. And now I look different and you’re nice to me. Oh please, C.J. You’ll never change, will you?”
He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You were always so shallow.”
“That’s not true,” he retorted.
“Of course it is! I’m skinny now, so you’re paying attention to me.”
“Captain?” the paramedic interrupted.
C.J. sat up. “Yes?”
“We’ve arrived at the hospital.”
The doors opened. Just as Tasha had feared, cameras flashed and reporters rushed forward to get the scoop on the congressman’s daughter.
As she was being transported into the hospital, she cried, “I’ll get you for this, Powell!”
But he’d jumped out of the ambulance to shelter her from the reporters with those wide shoulders of his. “I’ll take care of the press and be up to see you in a few minutes.”
He winked at her before the gurney was rolled through the entrance to the hospital.
“DARLIN’, YOUR FATHER AND I are worried about you,” Genevieve cooed in her Texas drawl. She sat on her daughter’s hospital bed in her tan trousers and white linen blouse. Both fit her lean figure to perfection.
“Mother, you heard the doctor. My blood work and vitals are all normal.” Tasha was determined to keep her voice low and cool. “I was dehydrated. It occasionally happens when you run a marathon.”
She leaned in to caress her daughter’s cheek, her bracelets clinking. “My, you’re such a beauty now.”
The emphasis on now stung every time Tasha heard it. How could a girl compete when her mother was beauty personified? Genevieve Bennington was a tall blonde with big blue eyes set in an oval face.
She could have been a model, and made sure to remind Tasha of that every chance she got. Instead, she’d chosen to be a wife and mother. Natasha often wondered why.
“Thank you, Hal.” George Bennington had finally decided to come in from the hall and talk to her. He closed his cell phone and put it in his trouser pocket.
Tasha knew Hal was her father’s private doctor. She wondered what her dad had in store for her.
She could see he’d been tanning again. His skin was too dark for the lifestyle he lived. George was a tall, handsome man in his early sixties with a full head of hair dyed chestnut-brown.
He had the hardened green eyes and the polished smile of a politician. He was known for being cruel in political races. Unfortunately, that was how she saw him, too.
“We’ve been told you’re healthy, but I don’t trust that doctor. I’d rather have Hal come check you out.”
Tasha leaned forward in her bed. “Dad, that’s ridiculous and you know it.”
He took a no-nonsense stance. “Now listen here. He’s going to fly up from Cedars Sinai in L.A., and is leaving now. This is not the time to argue.”
“As an adult I have the right to refuse his services. I’m in the best shape of my life. It was hot and I got dehydrated. End of story.” Tasha was doing her best not to scream.
“You were heavy for so many years,” her mother murmured. “I worry if that has any implications on your health now.”
“Unbelievable!” Tasha had to fight not to feel that old inferiority complex she’d wrestled with all her life. This was C.J.’s fault. Why had he phoned her parents? Very few people had their private number. He must have called Tim’s parents to get it.
Tim. If he were here, he would never have let this happen.
Tasha could feel her stomach tightening. The pain of his death was as real now as it had been at his funeral. Why did people say that time heals all wounds? Time hadn’t touched hers.
“Tasha, are you listening?” her father demanded.
Of course she was listening. All she did was listen to them belittle her. Life was better when she avoided them. If she’d had her way, they wouldn’t have found out what had happened until she’d gone back to her condo.
Unfortunately, she was stuck here in a hospital gown, at their mercy, while she tried to calm them down. “Mom and Dad, I’ve been given a clean bill of health. When this IV bag is empty, I’m leaving.”
“I’ve heard you have a reputation for being a bulldog in court, never giving an inch. But I can’t believe you’re being this way with your own parents,” her father said in his smooth, icy voice. “We’re trying to help you.”
“Help? You call this help? Coming in here and—”
C.J. knocked on the door, interrupting them. His blue eyes found hers as he walked into the room, and he gave her his “hero” smile.
She used to label his smiles back in the good old days, but until now she’d never thought about the way they affected the opposite sex. No wonder females fell under his spell. For her it was odd to be the focus of a man’s attention these days, especially this man.
“Congressman Bennington, am I intruding?”
“No. It’s good to see you, son.”
“Nice to see you too.” C.J.’s presence calmed the room. He shook her father’s hand, then glanced at Tasha again. It confused her and caused her heart to pound. For some strange, alarming reason her body came alive around him.
His eyes strayed to her mother for a moment. “Genevieve, you look stunning as usual.”
Tasha cast a glance at her mother and started laughing inside. She was eyeing C.J. the way she did all attractive men, but he didn’t seem to notice. For once someone was looking at the ugly daughter. Hah!
“It’s wonderful to see you, C.J.” Her mother sauntered over to him and hugged him, then kissed him on both cheeks. “When Gina McGinnis called and told us our Natasha was being rushed to the hospital, we were terrified.” She took a step back and put her hands on his large biceps. “The only bright spot is that Tim’s best friend saved our daughter. You’re a hero today.”
She paused, then asked, “Are you coming to the fundraiser ball tonight? I know the McGinnises are praying you’ll attend. They reserved a seat for you and a guest months ago, when the invitations went out.”
Tasha could see that her mom and Tim’s were as gaga over C.J. as the rest of the female population. How pathetic!
“Mom, I’m sure C.J. would rather do anything than go to a ball. I know for a fact he hates them.”
C.J.’s chest rumbled with laughter. “How do you know I hate them?” He looked at her curiously. “I don’t mind them if I have a beautiful date.”
He stepped away from her mom and moved closer to Tasha’s bed. “Since Richard’s out of town, I’m guessing he’s not taking you.”
“No,” Tasha squeaked. His close proximity and her exhaustion from the race seemed to be making her mind go fuzzy. All she wanted to do was go home and sleep.
C.J. looked at her parents. “How about I escort Natasha to the ball tonight? I’m a trained EMT. If I see any distress signs, I’ll make certain she’s taken straight home.” His mouth curved in a smile, but his eyes were tense, questioning.
“I’m not sure if she’s up for it tonight,” George stated as he walked around C.J. to come closer. “I won’t feel comfortable until my doctor comes and does a full evaluation of my little girl.”
Tasha stared at him as he were a stranger. Since when had he ever called her his little girl? Big, large, fat girl. Those were the words that came to mind. Little girl? Never. What had gotten into him?
In a contrary state of mind, she said, “Fine, C.J. I’ll go with you, but not as a date. We’ll go as friends, in memory of Tim. I’ll be by your place at seven. Oh—” she frowned “—do you still live at the same address?”
He nodded, but he didn’t look happy. When she glanced at her parents, she could see their dismay, as well.
How am I going to survive the night?
NATASHA PULLED UP to C.J.’s apartment building with trepidation. The clock in her car read six-fifty. Why had she gotten herself into this predicament?
She put her head on the steering wheel and tried belly breathing, as she’d learned to do in yoga. “You can do this, Tasha.” She opened the door of the car and attempted to climb out.
Someone had told her it would be hard to move after the race, but this was ridiculous. Her beloved Lexus, a cherry-red convertible sports car, was built for speed, not ease and comfort.
Tasha glanced up to where C.J.’s window overlooked the street. “Please don’t let him be watching.”
Relief flooded her system when she discovered the room appeared dark, and the blinds were drawn. The last thing she wanted was C.J. witnessing her struggle. She had to lift each leg out of the car and push herself to a standing position while she leaned on the door. Why hadn’t she thought of hiring a limo?
While she waited for her legs to stop shaking, her long, sleeveless dress danced in the breeze. One thing she’d done right was get herself a personal shopper.
Daphne, her paralegal, had offered to do the job. Before she’d become Tasha’s go-to lady, she’d been a beauty consultant for Neiman Marcus. It was how she’d paid her way through school.
Tasha remembered being curious about why a girl who worked at Neiman Marcus would want to work at a pro bono law firm. On paper it didn’t make sense, because Tasha simply couldn’t pay her what the big firms offered.
That was until she met her. From the moment Daphne walked in, with her short, blond, pixie hairdo, they’d clicked. She and Daphne both had the same dream. They wanted to help immigrants get fair legal treatment.
Daphne had definitely gone out of her way to find the right outfit for tonight’s big event—a silky, melon-colored Armani gown. The filmy material flowed around Tasha’s feet, clad in dainty ballet flats. After the marathon, heels were out of the question.
When she’d first put the dress on, she couldn’t believe how well it fit. The scooped neckline gave her curves she hadn’t known she possessed, and showed off her newly toned arms. The ruched waistline made her torso look tiny. She’d never dreamed she could wear something like this before. But then, she’d never before been so slim.
After she’d arrived home from the hospital, she’d taken a nap. Then, as prearranged, a friend of Daphne’s had brought a full team to help Tasha get ready for the night.
She would have to remember to give Daphne a bonus for this. The condo had quickly become a salon. The team did everything from nails, hair and makeup to getting her dress put on correctly.
It was amazing what money could buy. No wonder her mother looked flawless every time she went out. Tasha just couldn’t imagine wasting that much time and money on herself every day when she barely had time to sleep.
The balmy air caressed her shoulders, weaving a magical spell around her. She hoped the unseasonably warm night would bring a large crowd to the fundraiser.
Before the marathon, Tasha had assumed she would suffer post-race exhaustion. Never would she have anticipated dehydration and fainting.
Thoughts of C.J. in the ambulance and at the hospital suddenly came to mind. She felt a little shiver and hobbled toward his apartment complex. By the time she arrived in the entryway, there were butterflies in her stomach.
Her anxiety level skyrocketed as she dialed the number on the speaker system. When there was no answer, Tasha tried again, with no response. “Typical!”
She was angry at herself for letting C.J. put her in this position. But before she jumped to conclusions, she pulled her cell from her clutch to see if there was a message.
Maybe he’d been called in to work. He was a fireman, after all. Being a captain now meant more responsibility. She checked her phone. Seven o’clock. No messages. “You’re a fool, Tasha!”
That was when she heard a loud noise outside. She looked around and saw C.J. climbing out of the restored black Mustang, his prized possession. He and Tim had called it the chick magnet. She had some lovely metaphors of her own for his car, but kept them to herself.
As C.J. approached, he looked like a movie star. He was dressed in a tux, and his jet-black hair had been washed and combed back, accentuating his blue eyes.
He closed in faster than she’d anticipated. She felt like a trapped animal in the glass entryway. C.J.’s tall muscular fireman’s build and his perfect features—aquiline nose, high cheekbones and full mouth—were a lethal combination.
It shocked her that she’d spent two years around him and had never noticed him like this before. What was going on? Maybe she should have stayed at the hospital as her dad had wanted.
That was when it hit her that Tim had blinded her to other men. Seeing C.J. like this reminded her of a quote she’d always loved and never fully understood until now: “One kiss breaches the distance between friendship and love.” She wondered if that was what would happen with them.
Chapter Two
Tasha moistened her lips nervously. “We need to go so we aren’t late.” She had to get out of the pheromone-filled entryway.
Being so attracted to C.J. on the night that was meant to honor Tim seemed such a betrayal. She marched away from him with little dignity. Damn race. She couldn’t even walk right tonight.
“Marathon legs?”
“You noticed.”
“I know the hobble well.”
Of course he did. He ran, too, when he wasn’t on duty. Mr. Wonderful in every way. Tasha continued on to her car.
“Hey, I thought I’d take us. I know how hard it is to walk, let alone drive after a race. That’s why I pulled the Stang out of the parking lot.”
“Thanks, but no. I’m driving tonight.”
“Why?” She could feel his warm body following closely behind her.
“It’s called self-preservation.”
“What does that mean?”
She stopped in her tracks and turned around. She was feeling better by the second. It had helped to get out of that claustrophobic building and into the night air. “I want to make sure I have a ride home.” She gave him her tough courtroom stare.
“Well, of course you’ll have a ride home!”
Tasha folded her arms at her waist, biting her lip. “I highly doubt that. When I used to hang with you and Tim, there wasn’t one gala I can recall ever getting a ride back from.”
“You and I never went to any galas together,” he countered.
The familiar jab in the gut was there again. That old sting of being easily forgotten. “Oh, I went to some events with you two. Let’s see ….”
She put her clutch under her arm and began counting on her fingers. “There was the Governor’s Ball. We were at the Mayor’s Ball twice. Then there was the VonGreen’s Napa Valley Wine Club party, the—”
A perplexed look crossed his face. “Are you sure you came with us?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t keep the icy tone out of her voice. “You and Tim usually forgot me in five minutes, tops! Once let loose, you’d scope for the hottest girls in the room, create the game plan and go in for the kill. You had it down to a science, and I was forced to call a taxi for a way home more times than I care to remember.”
C.J. smiled. “Same old Tasha. You always could tear a person apart in one sentence.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is.” His smile stayed beautiful. “One of our favorite games was to watch how fast you could cut a guy down at a bar. Would it be in one sentence, or in four?”
“What are you talking about? I never got hit on.”
“Actually, you did. You just sent them away like poor little puppy dogs.”
“Puppy dogs?” She smiled, unable to remember being approached by men.
“Look, Tasha, I’m sorry for whatever you thought I might have done in the past, but I can promise you it won’t be happening tonight.” C.J. looked at her with a possessiveness she’d never felt from a man.
An apology from Powell? I must be losing it.
“Let’s drop the subject.” She lifted one eyebrow before continuing to her car. “I still prefer to drive.”
TASHA PARKED THE CAR at the entrance of the famous landmark hotel, and a valet was prompt to open her door. “Welcome to the Rosemont.”
C.J. watched Tasha hand her keys to the man while she tried to get out of the car with as much decorum as possible.
The ride over had been pure hell for him. Looking at her in that delectable dress, her silky hair swept up on her head, was a new experience for him.
He’d always thought Natasha was cute, but the woman next to him was incredibly alluring. C.J.’s mind wandered back to carefree times before Tim’s death. When he stole looks at Tasha now, he wondered how his friend hadn’t been able to see the amazing woman who’d loved him.
She was a vision tonight, with those wispy curls floating around her neck. She brought out something in him he’d forgotten existed. Life. He’d been so caught up in Tim’s dying at such a young age, he’d stopped living, too. Yet for some reason seeing Natasha Bennington this morning had brought him back.
He’d felt a similar moment of truth just over a year ago when he’d faced his twin brother, Jake. For too many years to count, they’d been estranged over a misunderstanding about a girl who never really mattered. To finally reunite with his brother had healed something in his soul that he’d thought couldn’t be mended.
Over the years, C.J. had dated scores of women, going through one woman after another. But when he’d stood as best man at his brother’s wedding, just a little over a year ago, he had realized that he, too, wanted to find love and have a family of his own.
The discovery had shocked the daylights out of him. Until he’d been able to figure it out for himself, he’d never mentioned it to anyone. Then tragically, a week later, Tim had been diagnosed with cancer, and C.J.’s whole world had fallen apart.
Just as he had thought he could put the pieces of his life back together, he’d discovered he was wrong. Life was just an endless journey of despair. All he could do was hide his pain and throw himself into work….
“Sir? Do you need help?” the valet was asking.
Embarrassed, C.J. collected his thoughts and climbed out quickly. “No.” He could see that Tasha was still struggling to emerge, and he was the man for the job. He walked around the Lexus, sending the smitten valet running with one look.
“Can you get out?” he teased. “Or do you want me to call the station for backup?”
Tasha was ready to explode. “You know I need help,” she said impatiently.
He bent a little lower. “Did I hear a please with that?”
The look she shot him was pure frustration. Tasha hadn’t changed. Once you got her riled, she was fun to watch.
“Tasha? Stop!” he ordered, when she grasped one leg, intending to lift it out of the car.
She looked up at him, and he could see he’d pushed her too far. Her green eyes were livid and her full mouth tense. If he kept gazing at her, he was likely to jump in the driver’s seat, take her back home and kiss her senseless.
“Stop what?” she retorted.
He smoothed his thumb over his lower lip, trying to focus on the evening and not on the beautiful woman he wanted to keep for himself.
In a swift motion he picked her up, cradling her in his arms. Her body felt so right against his, as if they were made for each other. Her perfume wafted around him, driving him crazier with every second.
He looked down to check her reaction. The flush on her cheeks gave her away. “You look incredible tonight,” he said.
Their eyes met once more and the vulnerability he read in hers only made her more desirable. “Thank you.” She averted her gaze. “You don’t look too shabby yourself.”
He kept walking. “Are you ready to speak about Tim and the charity tonight?” he asked. His emotions were mixed. He knew how much she’d loved Tim. Was she still in love with his memory? Would she ever let him go?
“Who told you? It was supposed to be a secret.”
“Gina McGinnis confides in me,” he replied. Their eyes locked yet again and a feeling of desire filled him, to the point that he lifted his head, needing to figure out if he was imagining what he felt.
“C.J.? Please put me down. I’m not a child and I feel utterly silly being carried this way.”
Ignoring her protests, he carried her at a brisk pace, heading for the elegant entryway of one of San Francisco’s most famous hotels. She put her arms around his neck while he maneuvered them through the doors.
“We’re here now, C.J. I can walk.”
He set her on her feet and struggled to compose himself. “I believe the lady is safely in the hotel.”
On that note C.J. let her go. He needed some time to think. Though he hated to pull away from her, a part of him needed to go into hiding where nothing and no one could hurt him.
He was keenly aware of the living, breathing beauty who’d brought him to life.
But how did Tasha view him? As a man … or a connection to the past? One tied to Tim.
There was no point in kidding himself. C.J. had started to have feelings for her, but she was in love with the memory of his wealthy best friend.
Except that it wasn’t love. Tim had been her childhood crush. An obsession.
Tonight C.J. felt a connection between Tasha and himself. They had chemistry. That was a great starting point. There was no reason she couldn’t move on now with another man—and why couldn’t that man be him?
TASHA NEEDED TO GET a handle on herself or tonight could turn into a disaster. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to cope with all the emotions attacking her.
For the moment she would blot out the world and focus on the problem at hand. Put all the issues in her mind into a courtroom box to be dealt with later.
The technique was one she used to calm herself down before a big case. Her problem was how to shrink a six-foot-three fireman to fit into that box.
Come on, Tasha. There was just too much to do tonight without the distraction of pine and spice wafting past her nostrils. Every time Captain Powell got close, her knees went weak.
When an Adonis in a tux became her hero for the day, it was hard to believe she could be as spineless as the girl next door, following him like a puppy dog.
Was she really so shallow? Tim had been gone only a year, yet she found herself attracted to his best friend. Was that because she still missed Tim?
Or was she attracted to C.J. for himself? The therapist she’d been seeing since the funeral had told her she had to let Tim go and move on. But with C.J?
“Tasha, are you all right?”
“Oh … you came back.”
“From the little boys’ room. Of course I did. You went blank for a moment and I was a bit concerned.”
Tasha could feel another blush coming on.
“Where do you want to go now?” he asked.
“I’m in charge of the banquet. I had a ton of assistance from my party planner, but since this charity is my brainchild, I’ve helped where I could and—”
“The charity was your idea?” he interrupted. His expression grew unreadable. She felt tension between them.
“Yes. I went to the McGinnises and my parents with a way for us to put our grief to use. We both know Gina McGinnis is an amazing charity worker who could run a foundation blindfolded. So I pitched the idea of the Tim McGinnis Firefighters against Cancer Foundation.”
“I had no idea.”
“I could do the legal work, but didn’t have the time, money or know-how to start the actual foundation. I’ve been touched by how the community has rallied to support it. I’m convinced this charity is going to make a big difference in the lives of many firefighters and their families in the Bay area fighting cancer.”
“Now it makes even more sense why you’re speaking tonight.”
“I’ve asked that I just be known as the lawyer for the charity. I don’t want my father turning this into a political rally. He’s running for Congress again this election.” Tasha moved closer to C.J. Her eyes searched his for the warmth that had been there earlier.
“So what do you need to do now?” he asked.
She bit her lip. “First off we have to find Terrance and see how things are going. Or you could go to the bar and relax until the banquet starts.”
“Natasha? Where have you been?” a voice called. She looked over her shoulder and as if the mention of Terrance had conjured him up, saw the main coordinator of the event hurrying toward her, clutching a sheaf of papers. “You look fabulous, darling!”
Her thoughts had been so full of C.J. she’d almost forgotten her responsibilities for the evening.
“We’re in a crisis!” The man lifted his shoulders and shook his head dramatically, almost dropping his clipboard. “The band is fighting with the caterer and the chef is about to walk out the door. We need major damage control.” He sounded about to weep.
Tasha turned away from C.J. and took a deep breath to pull herself together. “First off, that haircut is marvelous on you. I love the purple highlights.”
Terrance beamed and fluffed his hair.
“Listen to me. I hired you because you’re the best.”
The coordinator’s narrow shoulders straightened and his confidence appeared to return.
“Now get that amazing suit back in there and tell them I’m coming. I realize Chef Renard is difficult, so leave him to me. You go deal with the band. We’ll slice and dice this problem together.”
Terrance hugged her. “You’re marvelous, not to mention delectable in that outfit. Like a fruit,” he added before kissing the air near her cheek. “Who’s this?” He’d just noticed C.J., and his eyes went wide with curiosity.
“This was Tim’s best friend, Captain C. J. Powell of the San Francisco Fire Department. C.J? This is Terrance Young, my miracle worker.”
After they shook hands, C.J. said, “I’m also Natasha’s date for the evening.” He slid his arm around her casually and pulled her close.
Terrance adjusted his black-rimmed glasses and raised his eyebrows. “Tsk-tsk. It seems our Tasha has been holding out on us.” He looked back and forth between the two of them, then pursed his lips. “When were you going to tell me you had a hot man in your life?”
Tasha felt as if she was losing control of everything she’d carefully pieced together over the past year. “C.J. and I have been friends for ages.”
Terrance laughed. “When you’re ready to tell the truth, come and have a chat with me. I’ll be taking care of the band. But Renard is about to leave. I suggest you say your goodbyes quickly,” he said, before breezing away.
Tasha looked up at C.J. and felt her heart race when their gazes locked. How could a man have such blue eyes? Feeling utterly juvenile, she glanced away. “I guess I better head to the kitchen before my ill-tempered chef leaves. See you after the speech.”
THE ROOM GREW QUIET as Natasha stood at the makeshift podium that overlooked the famous baroque-style ballroom. Emotion began to bubble up inside her. It needed to be quelled before she began her speech.
She’d never been nervous addressing groups even larger than this on immigration law. But she’d never had to speak about her best friend before. At Tim’s funeral only family had spoken, leaving out whole aspects of his life, such as fireman and friend. This was her chance to talk about the man she’d known and loved.
Stares from the elegantly dressed assembly grew more probing as the guests waited for the program to start. Tasha broke out in a cold sweat. She could see that all her hard work over the past year had paid off, for the room was packed. But none of that mattered if she let stage fright get the best of her.
She should have brought cue cards, she decided, feeling her hands tremble. She had arrogantly thought she could handle anything. After all, she’d been blessed with a good memory and had never needed to use them before.
With her thoughts reeling wildly, she realized the hubbub in the ballroom had subsided. How could a gathering of over four hundred people be this silent? Great! Now the press had something else to add to the embarrassing faults of Congressman Bennington’s daughter.
Tasha’s breathing came faster. She clung to the podium for support, noting she’d been up here too long without saying anything. Her eyes searched out C.J., who was seated nearby.
Those deep pools of blue were full of concern and encouragement. In that instant, memories of Tim flooded her mind, and the speech she’d prepared didn’t seem right anymore.
She cleared her throat. “I’d like to thank all of you for coming to the Tim McGinnis Firefighters against Cancer Foundation Charity Ball. I hope some of you enjoyed the marathon today. I know I did. Though I doubt I’ll be able to walk normally for a week. It was a great experience I wouldn’t have missed.” She heard a few hoots from the audience.
“Those of us who knew Tim recall he was a man who lived life to the fullest. He was far too young to die.” Tasha looked over at Tim’s parents and could see tears in Gina’s eyes.
“Statistics tell us that one in two people will be diagnosed with cancer in their lifetime. This is not a disease that affects someone else. It affects everyone, whether it be the patient or their family and friends.” Her throat began to constrict. “Tim was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, a tricky one to catch at an early, treatable stage.
“Cancer statics for firefighters are staggeringly higher than the norm. Researchers found they have a one hundred percent greater risk of developing testicular cancer, a fifty percent higher risk for multiple myeloma and non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, and for prostate cancer it’s a twenty-eight percent increase, compared with non-firefighters.
“For all of us who knew Tim, the tragedy of cancer was brutal, since the disease wasn’t caught until it had metastasized, leaving him with only a few weeks left to live. But that didn’t stop him from living every moment to the fullest. He rode his wheelchair around the hospital wards cheering up other patients, trying to make them laugh. Sometimes a laugh was all he had left to give after a round of chemo. He fought his cancer like the hero and firefighter he was, to the very end.”
Tasha blinked back tears. “I was one of those lucky people who had the privilege of knowing Tim McGinnis my whole life. We were best friends ever since I can remember. I know he would want to help fight this disease by putting money into research, by aiding families with co-pays, and by funding extended hospital stays for his fellow firefighters.
“Tim’s parents, Timothy and Regina, created this charity along with many other benefactors to help prevent other parents from losing their children at such a young age. The charity’s goal is to aid these true heroes who face dangers on the job every day. The money raised will fund research programs, and give financial aid to firefighters of the Bay area with cancer, so that they don’t have to worry about fighting cancer fiscally, too.”
Tasha took another breath and grabbed her glass of water. “We’re now going to look at a slide show. There are pictures of a young and vibrant Tim, and then some that show him just a week after he was diagnosed.
“I’ve interspersed photos of other firefighters in the city, all fighting various forms of cancer. Some of them are children of firefighters.” Her voice faltered. “They are the toughest and most resilient heroes of all.”
She stared out over the audience. “Thank you for coming. After the visual presentation, I hope you’ll enjoy the rest of your evening with dancing and a dessert bar. Please be generous for our city’s finest and bravest.”
Everyone stood and clapped. Many guests had tears in their eyes. For the first time since Tim had died, Tasha felt she’d done something right.
She looked down at the table with the empty seat between C.J. and her parents. Protocol required her to sit down and watch the slide show with them, but she couldn’t. Breaking down in front of them was something just she couldn’t handle. Tasha had to get out, and quickly!
She saw her escape through the kitchen. No one would question if she was needed somewhere, to take care of an emergency. Hopefully, her physically weak state wouldn’t draw attention.
With every ounce of strength she could muster, she walked as normally as she could off the podium toward the kitchen. Once the doors shut behind her, the tears stinging her eyes became a flood. Tasha’s limp returned. She didn’t know where she was headed, she just needed space to breathe.
C.J. WATCHED TASHA’S poised departure from the podium. He’d been awestruck by her presentation. Now he was filled with conflicted emotions as he looked at pictures of Tim fighting his cancer. C.J. saw himself in one of them with Tasha, the ever beautiful woman inside and out. She was the real hero tonight.
It was a picture of the three of them at the hospital a few days before Tim had passed away. The woman staring back at him was different from the one on the podium tonight. She had been in love with Tim, but now had had a year to mourn him. C.J. was eager to see if Tasha would be willing to try to move on with him.
He turned to her mother. “Excuse me, Genevieve. I need to talk to Tasha.”
She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture as she sipped her wine. “Why don’t you stay here? She’s in charge and is probably busy.”
“I feel I should go find her,” he answered curtly, disgusted by the way her mother just blew her off. How could she not be proud of her daughter’s speech and her ability to think up something this big? C.J. stood and went through the kitchen doors to find her.
TASHA WAS LEANING against the railing of the roof garden. She’d needed a respite from the draining day and had taken the elevator to the top of the hotel. Somehow she’d maintained her cool through the problems of the evening with the chef and band. And somehow she’d gotten through her speech.
Terrance had promised he would call or come find her if another disaster arose. She just needed a few moments to compose herself before she faced everyone again.
Ever since she was a young girl, this had been one of her favorite places to eat lunch with her parents. That’s why she’d chosen to come up here. On this mild night the air was filled with the intoxicating scents of jasmine and gardenias from the secluded bar and restaurant called the Garden of Eden.
It was famous for its fountains and exotic flowers reminiscent of One Thousand and One Arabian Nights. The dim lighting invited visitors to find a quiet alcove to sip a drink or get lost with a lover.
Tasha wished she hadn’t run into C.J. at the marathon today. Even if she shut her eyes tightly, she couldn’t block his image from her mind. How handsome he looked in his tux tonight, his smile gorgeous when he gazed at her.
More than anything, it brought back all the feelings of inadequacy she’d felt with Tim. The constant third wheel, unloved. The kind of girl who could only be a friend.
Tasha was feeling very sorry for herself tonight. It was pathetic.
“Tasha?” The deep baritone tones that had been haunting her all day took her by surprise. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
She felt a shudder as he drew closer. “Why?” She knew the one-word question sounded lame, but she was at her wit’s end.
Instead of answering, C.J. handed her a flute of champagne. His eyes never left her face as he rested one arm on the railing. “You’re my date. Or did you forget?”
“I don’t remember it being a date. I clearly recall telling you we were coming as friends in order to remember a friend.”
C.J. gave her a weary smile. “That sounds like one of my lines.”
With that remark, she coughed on the champagne she’d just swallowed, and shook her head. Tasha turned to look at the Golden Gate Bridge, beautifully lit, but her coughing spell continued.
C.J. patted her back. “Let me know if you need CPR.”
“Then you’d get to be—” another round of coughs interrupted her “—a hero twice in one day. I couldn’t bear to put you through that.”
Tasha sipped from her flute to suppress another cough. “Seriously, how did you find me? If Terrance told you …” She could feel herself getting all riled up again.
“You can rest assured he didn’t give you away. I remember you talking to Tim about the views from the garden of this hotel. When I couldn’t find you downstairs, I thought I’d look for you up here.” C.J. gave her a thorough appraisal as he sipped his champagne. “You were right. The sights are incredible.”
“But you’re not looking at the city,” she said, going warm from head to toe. “I mean … Oh, I don’t know what I mean.” Tasha rubbed the tense muscles at the back of her neck.
“Bennington off her guard? I don’t believe it.” His smile was warm and inviting.
“I’m exhausted, C.J.”
“You gave an incredible speech tonight.” He inched closer as she reeled from his compliment.
Tasha found she had to tip her head back to look up at him as C.J. grasped her hand and led her to a quiet spot. “Where are we going, Captain?”
“Somewhere private.”
Too tired to put up a fight, she let him lead her through the enchanting garden. He found a hidden corner behind a large fountain lit from below to create the appearance of an underwater cavern. There were mosaic tiles on the floor and flowers climbing the walls, all designed to provide a romantic ambience.
She found she didn’t care why he’d brought her back here. The champagne had begun to take effect, making her relax a little. That was, until she saw where he wanted to sit—on an overstuffed love seat. She glanced around in confusion, feeling trapped.
“Have you been here before?” she asked.
“No,” he replied lazily.
C.J. sat down and with a simple tug pulled her onto the fat pillows beside him. Their bodies were touching. The contact brought flickers of desire to every cell of her body, terrifying her.
“Do you have any idea how striking you look right now, Tasha?”
She needed to calm that fluttery sensation in her stomach, but when he traced his fingertips across the back of her hand. Tasha felt as if he’d cast a spell on her. She had no option but to give in to her feelings for him.
His fingers grew bolder as they began to make their way up her arm, filling her with a storm of emotions. Against her better judgment she turned toward him. Their eyes met.
“You look like the goddess Aphrodite.”
“Have you ever seen her?”
“No, but I’ve heard of her,” he said in a husky voice. As C.J. rubbed her shoulders and played with her hair, something hot raged in his eyes, causing her heart to beat double-time.
Tasha watched his mouth, and her mind reeled with thoughts of how it would feel against hers. His palm cupped the back of her neck, drawing her against him.
So this was what it was like to be seduced.
A little voice in her head urged her to run, but she was too tired. For once she was going to be reckless.
The tender way he kissed her neck was driving her to distraction. She moved her cheek so it would rub against his smooth jaw. Their lips were millimeters away from connecting when C.J.’s cell phone buzzed.
“Shall we stay hidden?” He flashed a smile that made her think anything was possible with him.
“I’d like to, unless you’re on call tonight?” Tasha queried playfully.
C.J.’s eyes never left hers as he shook his head. “I’m not on call until tomorrow.” She could see him fumble with his phone before turning it off.
“Will you get in trouble for that?”
“No. I carry another phone on me just in case there’s an emergency.” He gave her a slow wink. “Tasha, you always were a worrier.”
“It’s what my clients expect me to be for them.”
“No more talk of work. I can take care of myself and the station.”
C.J. clearly had other things on his mind. She could see his eyes exploring her face and upper body.
“Okay,” she whispered.
His fingertips ran up her arms to her neck, sending shivers coursing through her. Instead of talking, she decided to enjoy the sensation. Now he was drawing circles at her nape.
The air crackled with electricity. He drew her closer and gave her a light kiss on her lips. Just as he moved to deepen it, a phone with a fire alarm ring went off. C.J. reached into the pocket of his tux and pulled out a sleek silver cell. “Powell here.”
Tasha leaned back in the seat, still aflame from his touch and kiss. He jerked back into firefighter mode as if nothing had happened between them. “I’ll be right there, Chief. Thanks for the tip. I owe you.”
She turned to look at him, and found his whole countenance had changed. She wondered what he’d heard that had altered him so drastically. “Did somebody you know get hurt?”
“Tasha, we need to go!”
“What are you talking about?”
“The station has been trying to find me.” C.J. stood up and grabbed her hand as he began to run.
“Stop! I can barely move.” Tasha was struggling to keep up.
He paused and swung her into his arms. “Your condo is on fire.”
She was stunned. “My cat! Stormy’s there!”
“I know the commander in charge of the fire,” C.J. said, striding to the elevator with her in his arms, “and he’s the best there is.”
They reached the elevator, and he pushed the button frantically.
Tasha’s heart plummeted as they descended. She loved her home, her life, her memorabilia, but only Stormy was irreplaceable.
Chapter Three
On the way out to the car—she was still in C.J.’s arms—Tasha reached into her clutch for her cell phone and called Terrance. Once she’d told him what had happened, she gave him instructions on what to do for the rest of the evening.
“Aren’t you going to call your parents?” C.J. asked after she clicked off.
“No.”
He pulled her closer. “You’re going to need family to deal with this type of upheaval in your life.”
She shook her head. “All they’ve ever done is make matters worse. Didn’t you ever listen when Tim and I used to talk about our parents?”
He put her down, then gave the parking stub to the nearest valet. “I listened all right. I just have a hard time believing parents can be that bad.”
He opened the passenger door for her, then walked around to the driver’s seat. She was happy to let him drive. She pulled out a couple of bills and shoved the money into the valet’s hand, then turned to C.J. “Hurry!” she cried.
They took off as fast as traffic would allow.
THEY COULD SEE SMOKE billowing from the building when they were a block away. “I was hoping the fire would be more contained,” C.J. muttered as he slowed to hunt for a parking spot.
Tasha shot him a confused look. “Why are there firefighters on top of the roof with picks and axes?”
His features hardened. “They’re letting heat out in an attempt to create a safer environment to get inside to check for civilians and animals.”
“Oh! Do you think they’ve found Stormy?” Her voice shook and a tear slipped from her eye.
“Let’s go and find out.” C.J. maneuvered the sports car into a tiny parking spot on San Francisco’s famed Lombard Street, just a half block from the fire. “If they haven’t found your cat, I’ll go in and find him for you.”
“No!”
“Why not?” He looked at her as if she were crazy as he unbuckled both their seat belts.
“I’m not letting you risk your life for me and my cat!”
He took her face in his hands. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I give you my word.”
“I’m terrified.” Her eyes were glossy with tears.
“I know and I’m going to bring you past the perimeter, to see if we can find Stormy. But we’ve got to hurry, okay?” His eyes searched hers, imparting a sense of assurance. No wonder he was a captain.
Tasha nodded. But there was no way she was going to let him go in. She had to talk him out of it once they were at the fire. She knew she wasn’t thinking clearly. But after that kiss she couldn’t fathom losing C.J. right after finding him again.
Before they even had a chance to get out of the car, a firefighter came running. “Sorry, folks, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave the area immediately.”
C.J. nodded and began reaching for his wallet. “Officer, I’m Captain C. J. Powell. Mac Jefferson, the geographic chief, just called me and asked me to come down.” He showed him his badge.
“I can let you through, sir, but not your girlfriend.” He was emphatic about it.
Frustrated, C.J. got out of the car so he could stare down at this rookie. “This is Natasha Bennington. It’s her condo that’s burning. Mac called us here to see what was going on.” C.J. folded his arms. “You phone him. Go ahead. See what he tells you.”
The officer had the grace to look embarrassed. “Sorry, sir,” he mumbled.
C.J. was done with talking, and turned to comfort Tasha. To his horror, the woman who’d set his heart on fire tonight was gone! He threw his jacket in the car and sprinted down the street to find her.
The scene at a fire was something he was used to, but he was viewing it for the first time through a civilian’s eyes. It looked like a war zone, with engines lining the winding narrow road as far as the eye could see. He could only imagine what Tasha would think, seeing ladders hoisted against the Spanish-style condo, pairs of men rushing into her building with hoses that would run at full pressure once inside. Black smoke billowing out meant the condo was cooling down, but she couldn’t know that.
He thought about all the terrible things that could happen to a civilian at a catastrophe like this, and knew paralyzing fear for the first time ever. His fingers furrowed through his hair as the acrid smell of smoke filled his nostrils. Closer to the building, the air became dark with soot. What if she was struck by a hose? Worse, what if she tried to go into her condo?
He ran to the front of the condo, where he finally spotted Tasha. She was standing beside Mac, arguing with him.
She was all right.
C.J. hurried over just as Tasha was saying, “But you don’t understand, Chief. My cat, Stormy, could be in the condo. I always leave his little kitty window open for him, but what if he’s up there and scared? I have to get him!”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go in. I’ll have to arrest you if you continue to interfere in this operation.”
C.J. knew that Mac hated being harsh with civilians, but he couldn’t let her risk her life for a cat.
“Mac?”
“Powell! Glad you could make it.”
“I need to go in.”
“C.J., no!” Tasha cried.
He grabbed her hand. “I’m going to get Stormy. I’m a firefighter. I know what to do.”
“But—”
“Tasha. It’s going to be fine.” C.J. turned to Mac. “Can you find me a partner while I suit up to find her cat?”
The chief nodded and started talking on the radio, then barked, “Get going, Captain.”
Tasha followed C.J. to a nearby firetruck, where he got into gear. She was mesmerized as the handsome man in a tux who’d taken her to the ball changed into a fireman. He then led her back to where Mac was standing.
“Who’s investigating the scene?” C.J. asked the chief.
“Gonzalez.”
“Can you have him talk to Miss Bennington while I’m inside?”
“Any more orders, Powell?” Mac lifted an eyebrow.
“No, sir.” C.J. lowered his face shield.
Mac took Tasha by the arm and moved back, well away from the fire, just as smoke came out of the entryway of the building in a whoosh. It caused her to cough and her eyes to tear. She watched as C.J. climbed a truck ladder with another man. She’d never felt so afraid.
Excruciating long minutes passed, and C.J. was no longer in sight. She turned to Mac. “Where did he go? Is he okay?”
The chief answered calmly. “Of course. I just heard from him on the radio. He’s inside. Miss Bennington, have some faith in Captain Powell. He’s one of the best firemen I’ve ever known.” Mac have her a small smile. “Ah—here comes Gonzalez. He’ll have some questions for you.”
She could see a man walking toward her. Dressed in a formal uniform that looked out of place at a fire scene, he appeared to be in his mid-forties.
“Miss Bennington,” he said with he reached her. “I’m Detective Gonzalez.” He held out his hand. “I’m a fire investigator with the San Francisco Fire Department. I’d like to ask you some questions.”
Tasha pulled her hand out of the cocoon she’d created by wrapping her arms around herself, and met his firm grip. The last thing she wanted to deal with was law enforcement. Her home was burning, and C.J. and Stormy might not make it out alive.
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