Flames of Love, Page 2

  Her heartbeat sped up again. He needed a trim and a shave, and she wished he’d put his hat back on. It was a lot easier matching his attitude when she didn’t know for sure how hot he was.

  “Or maybe you couldn’t wait to show off your new designer jacket?” He smirked.

  She pulled her hat back on, anger brewing in her belly. “It’s a rental car.” No way did she just almost die miles from home and then get rescued by a guy who looked like Bradley Cooper and had a chip on his shoulder as big as Charlie Sheen’s.

  “Why are you out in this mess?” She was shivering inside the truck and he was solid as a rock outside, snow piling up on his shoulders. Of course he is. All that anger in his blood must keep him warm.

  He narrowed his eyes again. “Visiting my brother.” He shook his head. “Didn’t you think twice when you saw the snow?”

  “I didn’t know it was going to be this bad. It wasn’t this bad in the city.” She slid from the truck to her feet and stood in front of him. Jesus, he was tall. And so damn close to her that she could feel his thighs pressing against hers.

  He shot her a look. “Where are you going?”

  “Walking.”

  He grabbed her arm. “Oh no, you’re not. I didn’t just save your ass to have you die of hypothermia or get run over by a car.” He wrapped a powerful arm around her waist and lifted her back into the truck. “Close”—he locked eyes with her—“the door.”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to die in the cold?”

  She pressed her lips together. “I’m not going to be the damsel in distress for some cocky firefighter to brag about rescuing.” She wiped the snow from her jeans where it had blown in through the open door. Damn, it was cold. And he was so damn hot, and such an ass, that she wanted to kiss him and smack him in equal measure.

  He leaned in to the truck, his face an inch from hers. His eyes darkened to nearly black, and a grin spread across his lips.

  Siena could barely breathe. She tried to blink away the heat that rolled off him in waves.

  “I’m shutting the door,” he said in a seductive tone, as if he’d said, I can’t wait to lick every inch of you.

  Her whole body shuddered, and she wished her teeth would stop chattering, though she had a feeling it was nerves more than the cold causing it. “I’ll…call…” Shit. Who can I call? “One of my brothers to get me.”

  “I already called 911, but I guess they’re overwhelmed with calls tonight.” He pressed his gorgeous mouth into a tight line, then leaned in close again. “You would make someone else come out in these conditions and risk their life when I’m already here, wouldn’t you?”

  Yes! No! Shit, how did you make me sound so selfish? She slammed her back against the seat and stared straight ahead, steeling herself for what was sure to be the ride from hell back to her apartment.

  Chapter Two

  WHERE THE HELL is the emergency crew? The last thing Cash wanted to do was babysit Siena Remington for the next hour. Goddamn city girls were never prepared, and it pissed him off. Cash was always prepared—ready for anything. He had great instincts and lightning-fast reflexes. Neither of which did a damn thing for him a month ago when he couldn’t get to the third floor of an apartment building that was engulfed in flames because of some careless tenant who’d left a newspaper too close to the stove.

  Even through his parka he’d felt the curves of Siena’s body when she clung to him like he was her only hope of survival and looked at him like he was Superman. She felt damn good, and he was far from Superman. The combative emotions slammed together and rattled his nerves. She was so damn bullheaded that in less than five minutes she’d already made him crazy, and despite that, he was drawn to her like a kid to candy. He was too damn attracted to her. He had to get away from that truck. Anything to break the connection.

  He opened the door and stepped out of the truck. “I’ve gotta get your stuff. Promise me you’ll stay put. It’s too dangerous out here for you to be traipsing along the road.”

  Siena stared out the window. “Fine.”

  He glanced at her profile. She had a perky nose, high cheekbones, and almond-shaped eyes that were narrow and angry at the moment, but when he’d first pulled her from the car he’d seen them full of vulnerability and something more—determination? Hope? He wondered what they looked like when they were in the throes of passion. Christ. What am I doing? As he made his way through the thick snow and back down the embankment, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen her before. He couldn’t place where, and he was too frustrated to think about it. His mind drifted to when he’d leaned in close to her. She smelled fresh and clean, and her skin looked so damn soft that he’d had the urge to stroke her cheek and to kiss her and he had no fucking idea why. Jesus, he needed to get laid. He’d been out of the game for too long, but even as the thought entered his mind, he cringed. That would have been his go-to fix for any frustration a year ago, but lately, getting laid wasn’t anywhere near his agenda.

  Cash pushed his thoughts aside as he slid down the last ten feet of the embankment to her car. He had to get his arms around whatever was driving him to think of kissing Siena Remington. The last thing she—or any other woman—needed was a firefighter who took unnecessary risks on the job. Jesus. I’ve turned into the kind of guy I hate.

  Pathetic.

  When he returned to the truck, Siena was staring straight ahead. She didn’t turn when he placed her bags in the back or even when he handed over her purse.

  “Thank you,” she said curtly.

  Cash focused on getting back on the dangerous highway and navigating the snowy conditions as they headed toward the city rather than making an effort to ease the tension that had thickened between them. Visibility was poor, and even in the city, cars were moving at a snail’s pace. What was she thinking going out in this? By the time he pulled down Siena’s street, he thought the smoke had finally stopped steaming from her ears. He’d tried not to eavesdrop when she’d called her friend Willow. Willow? But how could he tune her out completely in such a confined space? She hadn’t mentioned him by name. Someone driving by stopped to help me. She made no mention of dealing with her car or getting checked out by a doctor.

  “You should call someone to get your car.”

  “You think?”

  Her sarcasm didn’t escape him. “And maybe get checked out by a doctor.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “When people are in emergency situations, their muscles tighten up. You could have jarred a shoulder, or your elbow or wrist.”

  He threw the truck into park and opened his door.

  “You don’t have to get out. I’m fine,” Siena said as she climbed out.

  “Let me get your bags.” He reached behind him as Siena opened the back door and reached in, dragging her bags from his grasp.

  “Thanks for rescuing me,” she said without even looking at him; then she closed the door and he watched her walk inside.

  Cash drove to the firehouse with the radio blaring, trying to get Siena out of his mind. He was ready for a beer, and he knew that not only would there be no beer, but that Tommy was working, so he wouldn’t have anyone to join him out at a bar.

  “Tom?” Cash called as he walked through the firehouse door. It smelled like chili, and he heard the guys talking in the other room. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a soda from the fridge, wishing it were something stronger to erase the sting of the evening.

  “Hey, man, that was a quick visit.” Tommy Burke, Cash’s closest buddy for the last ten years, came into the kitchen and smacked him on the back. At six four, Cash had an inch and about twenty pounds of muscle on Tommy. Tommy grabbed an apple and bit into it. His thick, dark hair curled up at the edges, which Cash knew meant he’d spent enough time outside to get soaking wet. “Crazy out there tonight. We’ve already been on three calls.”

  “Yeah? All end okay?” Cash pulled off his parka and hung it over a chair at the table.

  “
Yeah, man. It’s always okay.”

  Cash narrowed his eyes. They both knew that wasn’t always the case.

  Tommy slapped him on the back again. “I know, man. I know. C’mon. There’s a John Wayne movie on. Some Western shit.”

  Tommy knew Cash hated television, just as Tommy knew Cash hated walnuts, didn’t prefer blondes, could kick his ass in ice hockey, and thought sports figures were overpaid losers who played games for a living and reaped enormous salaries while firefighters scraped by on pennies. Tommy also knew that Cash had been taking too many risks since he dragged Cash away from that goddamn apartment fire. The rescue that changed everything Cash believed in and had turned his behavior upside down for the past three weeks. They’d met when Cash had first come to New York ten years earlier. At twenty-two, he’d graduated college with a degree in fire protection engineering and zero interest in doing anything except fighting fires. They’d gone through training together, pulled each other through the shit and laughed at the ridiculous. Tommy was like a brother to Cash, even though he had three brothers and a sister of his own.

  “How was Duke?” Tommy asked as he settled onto the worn brown couch in front of the television.

  Cash sighed and lowered himself onto a recliner. “Never got there.”

  “No?”

  Cash shook his head and picked up a magazine from the coffee table. “Rescued some woman from the side of the road.” He shook his head again, wondering what would possess anyone to get behind the wheel unprepared for the weather.

  “Bad?” Tommy asked.

  “Nah. Slid off the road and over the embankment. The car didn’t roll.” He flipped through the pages, not paying attention to either the television or the magazine. “Where’s Kelly tonight?”

  “I can’t seem to get anywhere with that woman.” Tommy threw his head back, and his thick dark hair fell away from his face. He closed his eyes and groaned.

  “You still haven’t made any headway with her?” Cash asked.

  “Well, I wouldn’t say that. We’re great friends.”

  “Dude, the friend zone? You gotta cut that shit. Nip it in the bud. Let her know how you feel. You’ve been playing this game with her for years.”

  “It’s not a game, and I have.” Tommy grabbed a can of soda from the table beside the couch and took a drink. “I don’t want to talk about Kelly.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “When are you gonna stop being a hotshot and get your shit together?”

  Cash shifted his eyes away from him.

  “Cash, you gotta rein in that shit.” Tommy spoke just above a whisper. “The chief’s not going to let it go on forever and the guys?” He shook his head. “Man, they’re pissed.”

  Cash ran his hand through his hair, listening to the other guys in the hall. “I’ll figure it out, Tom. Back off.”

  “Hey, I’m trying to save your ass. Chief Weber will put you on the desk, and you know it. You can’t take risks in the field. Shit, you used to be the one to drill that into the rookies’ heads. You don’t even use your breathing pack.”

  Cash stood and paced. “Jesus, I came here to escape this bullshit.”

  “Hey, whatever, man. I just want to help.” Tommy finished his soda and crushed the can in his palm. “You can live in your guilt-ridden place for as long as you want, but I can’t imagine the chief is going to let you risk our lives long before you’re on desk duty.”

  Cash slid him a look, and Tommy raised his hands in surrender.

  He flipped a page in the magazine and froze. Holy hell. No freaking way. He squinted at the gorgeous, nearly naked body covering the entire page. The model’s eyes were closed, her right arm covered the center of her right breast, the angle of her body covered the left, and she had nothing on but a silky pair of pink, lacy panties. He tore his eyes from the panties and back up to her face. Siena Remington’s face.

  “You might want to wash your hands after touching that page. Joey had that mag in the bathroom with him for way too long this afternoon.” Tommy laughed.

  Cash couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

  “Did you even notice the Johnnie Walker bottle?”

  Cash shook his head. “What?” He blinked several times, trying to clear his head. She’s a model. A smoking-hot model.

  Tommy leaned forward and pointed to the bottom of the page. “The ad’s for Johnnie Walker.” He laughed again. “That magazine’s made the rounds, and I have no idea where it even came from.”

  “I bet it has.” Cash rolled up the magazine and headed for his locker.

  “Hey, don’t get the pages sticky.”

  He’d make sure no one got the pages sticky. He shoved the magazine into the top of his locker and went to take a shower. A cold fucking shower.

  Chapter Three

  FROM THE SIXTH-floor window of Siena’s agent’s office, the city looked crisp and beautiful. With the thick window between Siena and the noise below, the streets even looked peaceful, despite the number of cars shuffling along, bumper to bumper. She loved the feeling of being separate from the noise almost as much as she loved being part of it. Between the sun and the plows, the streets were once again black, mounds of snow piled along the edges, and despite the people hurrying down the sidewalks, the snow looked peaceful and pretty rather than scary and chaos inducing as it had the night before. Siena loved living in the city, and unlike her older brothers Sage and Jack, who longed to live in the woods somewhere, she wouldn’t trade city life for anything. She and her twin, Dex, were alike in that way, while her other older brother Kurt, a writer, never left his home office. She thought he could probably live anywhere and be happy, as long as he had access to a keyboard.

  “Siena, you look lovely.” Jewel Wells had been Siena’s agent since Siena turned eighteen, when the agent who had represented her as a child referred her to Jewel. As Jewel air-kissed each cheek, Siena was glad she’d opted for Chanel instead of her jeans.

  “Thank you.” She lowered herself into a chair across from Jewel’s desk wondering why Jewel had requested the meeting. “Your message said there was something important you wanted to discuss?”

  Jewel ran her hand along the side of her needle-straight blond hair, which swung in a blunt cut just above her pearl earrings. “Yes.” She inched her chair closer to the desk and clasped her hands together. “Siena, honey, you know how important image is in this business.”

  “Yes.” Oh God. Image is everything. Siena held her breath and quickly went through her memory of the last few days. She hadn’t been seen with anyone inappropriate; she hadn’t gotten drunk and made an ass of herself. She hadn’t gotten a DUI. Oh God. The accident. “If this is about the accident—”

  “Accident? Should it be about an accident?” Jewel arched a slim brow.

  “No. I was going to meet Willow at her parents’ house outside the city last night and I ran off the road.” And met a hot asshole firefighter that I can’t stop thinking about.

  “I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Yeah, me too. I was driving a rental, and it was towed last night. Apparently, it wasn’t totaled, so that was good.”

  Jewel nodded. “Yes, that is good. Siena, in the past eight years, I’ve never steered you wrong, have I?”

  Siena sat up straighter at the seriousness of her tone. “No.”

  “And I’ve led you to elite model status and guided you to a secure seven-figure income, which I think you enjoy.”

  Shit. Where is this going? Siena’s stomach tensed. “Yes.”

  “I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and I know how you feel about some of the men we’ve encouraged you to go out with in the past, but I think it’s time to up your exposure.” Jewel lowered her chin and smiled, a look that Siena recognized to mean Take this very seriously.

  “But I’m one of the top models at the agency. My exposure is high.” Siena sat up straighter. “What exactly do you mean by upping my exposure?”

  “We’ve been following the careers
of Kristi Samington and Chloe Terlson, and since they began dating athletes, they’re in almost every magazine on the planet on a consistent basis, which translates into more deals, higher offers, and greater longevity.” Jewel’s eyes widened as she spoke, and excitement surrounded her words.

  Siena shook her head. “So…you want me to date an athlete? Like a football player or something?”

  “Well, we’ve chosen a few for you. And you don’t have to really date them, but we’d like you to be seen with them enough for the press to speculate.” She pushed four head shots across her desk.

  Siena picked up the photographs and leafed through them. Four thick-necked athletes stared back at her. Muscle-head clones. She was so tired of being told whom she should date that she really didn’t feel like dating at all.

  “But if the press thinks I’m dating one of them, then what happens if I actually go on a date with someone else?”

  Not that there was a chance in hell of that happening. She’d basically sworn off men. Until she found a guy who knew what romance meant—holding hands, thinking about the other person’s hopes and dreams before their own, laughing at stupid things even if it made them look silly—she was very happy sitting at home reading at night, or hanging out with Willow, or going dancing and then going home alone. Anything other than poking at a salad while the guy across the table undressed her with his eyes. Is it too much to want a guy who pays attention to more than my looks? Who picks up on the little things? Unsaid things?

  A smile spread across Jewel’s coral lips. “Well, then, that just raises the controversy, doesn’t it?”

  She winked, and Siena’s stomach clenched. “Jewel, how vital is this? I mean, if I choose not to do it…”

  “Well, let’s just say that we wouldn’t want to see your next contract go to Kristi or Chloe, now, would we? Oh, and, Siena, you know how these things work. You can’t tell a soul that you’re not really dating them. We can’t take a chance of the press disbelieving their own eyes. We want them to eat the stories we feed them.” Jewel rose to her feet. “By the way, don’t forget the annual calendar shoot tomorrow at three. Willow will be there, of course, and Trey is excited to make this year’s calendar a little racier.”