Playing with Fire (2 page)

He leaned out from underneath the piano, his
tired, weepy eyes seeking the safest route to the door. With his
heart in his throat and his air tank empty, he inched himself
through the thick, musky fog, screaming until he collapsed against
the heavy, oak door.

“
Zach,” he croaked one last time.

Three seconds later, the smoke soothed him
and the shrill ring of his PASS echoed off the crackling
flames.

Shane wiped sweat from his forehead and
swallowed the nausea that climbed his throat as he heard a familiar
clicking sound against the cement outside the station door.
Imposing an iron control on himself, he pushed himself out of his
chair.

His mood lightened when he saw Maddie juggle
several food containers while she wrestled open the heavy, steel
door. An angel in disguise. Resident caretaker of her husband’s
crew.

Shane propped the door against his boot and
reached for the food. “Let me help.”

“Thanks, Shane.”

She handed him a stack of plastic and they
climbed the stairs to the kitchen.

“Feeding an army again, huh?”

“Of course. Somebody’s got to feed you guys
something worth eating.”

“We’d starve without you.” He set the food on
the table. “Smells great. What did you bring?”

“Your favorite. My chicken enchiladas. And
cheesecake for dessert.”

His stomach rumbled and he groaned. “I’m
gonna have to pass.”

“Why?”

“I’ve got an inspection.”

Maddie didn’t respond immediately and from
experience he knew his fatigue didn’t escape her analysis.

“Are you okay, Shane?”

“Of course.”

“You look like hell.”

He snickered for her benefit and flexed his
biceps. “Thanks a lot. I thought I was looking pretty buff.”

She rolled her eyes, obviously not dissuaded.
“Yeah, yeah, those are great. However, your eyes are swollen and
bloodshot.” She squinted narrowly. “Have you been drinking?”

“No, Nurse Maddie.” He tousled her hair. “I
haven’t had a drop. Don’t worry, I’m fine. But, I’m late.”

“You’re always late.”

Shane glanced at the doorway in time to see
Detective Jake Ramsey enter the kitchen.

He gave his friend’s hand a shake. “They
don’t have food at the Police Department?”

Jake grinned and pulled Maddie into a hug.
“Not Maddie’s.” He scrubbed his knuckles across the top of her head
and she squealed. “You headed to Dr. Prescott’s office?”

Shane nodded. “Her fire inspection is
due.”

“And you’re late.”

“Yeah.”

Maddie wiggled and Jake hugged her tighter.
“She has a new receptionist. I hear she runs a tight ship.”

Shane shook his head. “I’ll see you two
later.”

“Take care, Shane,” Maddie said from the
depths of Jake’s arms.

“See ya, Mad.”

He left the station, irritated about missing
lunch with his extended family. He ran a hand across his head. He
honestly couldn’t survive without each and every one of them.
Brothers, bonded by a force greater than blood. All except one.
Zach.

Shane flung open the door of his city-issued
truck and wondered if the pain would ever dull. He started the
engine and jammed the gear into drive. Damn he needed a nap.

He finally parked outside a small, white
house and rubbed his gritty, sleep-deprived eyes. Cool air rustled
his paperwork while he idled. This stop was the last for the day.
If not, he’d fall face first into Maddie’s enchiladas. If he ever
got to eat them.

He left the privacy of his truck, stepped
onto the porch, and entered the office. His mood lightened when ice
cold air kissed him.

And then he spotted the gray-haired drill
sergeant behind the reception desk.
Hell
. Jake could’ve at
least warned him. “Hello, Ms. Potter.” He painted on a smile. “Jake
told me you were working part time but he didn’t mention
where.”

She eyed him narrowly, obviously not
impressed by his gesture.

“You’re late, Shane,” she chided. “Dr.
Prescott is a very busy woman. Lucky for you, she had a
cancellation.” She stood and motioned him down the hall. “Follow
me.”

Exhaustion dared him to tell her right where
could stick
late
. Except, she reminded him of his second
grade teacher and Mrs. Anderson swung a mean ruler. Besides, Jake
would kick his ass.

She finally stopped and gave a door a solid
knock.

“Yes? Come in.” The soft, silky voice that
floated through the door kicked fatigue in the ass. Curiosity made
his heartbeat stutter.

The front-desk watchdog opened the door wide
enough to stick her beehive hairdo through the opening. “Dr.
Prescott, the fireman has finally arrived.”

“Thank you, Mable. Please show him in.”

Mable waved him inside then shut the door
behind him. He stood hypnotized as the raven-haired beauty stood
and extended a hand, the warmth of her smile echoing in her
voice.

“I’m Liberty Prescott.”

As he reached out and caught her hand in his,
an electric shock nearly buckled his knees. His dick saluted and
his heart skipped the next two beats.

“Captain Shane Hartwell.”

He fought to breathe. Tiny, curling tendrils
escaped the heavy silken mass of hair, loosely clipped up off her
slender, creamy neck and dared him to catch one between his
fingers. Quarter-sized, shiny gold hoops accented by a pattern of
four small diamonds on each side hung from her ears and reminded
him of a gypsy fortune teller. The shifting emerald lights in her
eyes sparkled intelligence and a hint of mischief. No doubt she
could see into his soul.

“Sorry I’m late. I hope I didn’t
inconvenience you.”

When her hand left the warmth of his, he
wanted to snatch it back. “No, not at all. I had some paperwork to
finish.” She clasped her hands together. “What do you need to
inspect?”

What an opening.
I’d like to inspect you,
Doc
. Shane bit his tongue to prevent the inappropriate response
and took a moment to regroup. What was up with him? Then he let
himself off the hook. He hadn’t been with a woman in over six
months, that was the problem. His body hadn’t even attempted to
respond. Until now.

“I’ve got a checklist.” He lifted the
clipboard. “Why don’t we start with the fire extinguishers?”

He thanked God and tight clothing as he
followed along behind her. Her heart-shaped ass swayed like a
pendulum. His fingers burnt to touch her, to knead the firm, round
flesh, and then grind himself against her. She stopped abruptly at
the end of the hall and his over-stimulated, primed body collided
with hers.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

He shook the cobwebs from his head and tried
to concentrate on the inspection. Emergency exits clear.
Check
. Sprinkler system in order.
Check
. Combustibles
kept to a minimum.
No
.

“Dr. Prescott, why do you store cans of
acetone in this cabinet?”

“Some of my patients paint,” she explained.
“The acetone is used as paint thinner and to clean brushes.”

“Acetone is highly combustible. It’s not a
good idea to keep so much, especially around these rags.”

“I didn’t realize. I’ll fix that
immediately.”

“Good.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. Your emergency lights aren’t
working.”

“I’ll call an electrician.”

“One more thing.”

“What’s that?”

He lowered the clipboard. “Have dinner with
me tonight.”

She didn’t hesitate before she shook her
head. “While I’m flattered, Captain, that’s simply not
possible.”

“Why? Are you seeing someone?”

She arched an eyebrow, almost as if she found
his question absurd. “N...no,” she croaked.

Although disappointed she declined, he
wouldn’t give up so easily. Not when her body language made it
obvious she was interested. She shivered ever so slightly when he
traced the line of her cheekbone and jaw with one finger.

“Then why not?”

Liberty fought the overwhelming urge to tell
him to forget the date and invite him to strip her naked and have
his wicked way with her instead.

“I don’t have time to date, Captain
Hartwell,” she answered quickly. Would he accept that excuse?

“But you have time for dinner, right?”

Inside, she sighed. Of course he wouldn’t
accept it. “I’m on call and keep odd hours.”

“You don’t have to wash your hair?” His deep,
husky voice dripped with amusement.

She couldn’t stop her smile. “No.”

He handed her a piece of paper. “Here’s your
copy. I’ll send one to your insurance company. I trust you’ll get
those items taken care of.”

“Yes, I will,” she agreed, relieved he didn’t
push. “So, I passed?”

“You passed.” He paused for a brief moment
and she wondered if he would press the date issue after all. “I’ll
see myself out,” he said finally before he turned and walked back
down the hallway.

Liberty braced one hip against the cabinet
and forced air into her lungs while the bell over the front door
tinkled to signal Captain Hartwell’s exit. The man oozed sex
appeal. From the force of his thighs and the slimness of his hips
to his commanding air of self-confidence, he gave gorgeous a vivid,
physical description. Each time he moved, the muscles rippled
beneath his starched, white shirt and quickened her pulse to send
her head spinning.

She fought to fan herself.
It’s the
uniform
. There was definitely something to be said about a man
in uniform.

Yet, the mystery in his eyes beckoned her; a
faint glint of unspoken pain glittered there.

She sought the comfort of her chair as soon
as the door closed, struggling with the uncertainty he aroused in
her. Despite her oddly primitive urge to throw him down and
experience the wealth of sexual expertise he most likely possessed,
she hesitated to succumb. Besides, he would find out very quickly
that any kind of relationship with her, physical or emotional, was
not what he wanted. She giggled. In the meantime, he made
exceptional eye candy.

Shane left the mysterious Dr. Prescott’s
office, replaying her rejection of his dinner invitation on his way
back to the station. Granted he’d been turned down before, but she
seemed almost forced to decline. As if she had no other choice. He
ran his hand across the top of his short, spiked hair. Damn, she
was easy on the eyes. His body still hummed from just being in her
presence. He shrugged. He really needed that nap.

He tossed his clipboard onto his desk and
melted into his chair, laying his head back. His eyes fluttered
closed.
Just for a few minutes
.

“Shane.” Dylan’s voice drifted through his
sleepy haze.

“Yeah.” He rubbed the fuzziness from his eyes
as the other man sat in front of the desk.

“I brought some reports for you to sign.”
Dylan handed him a stack of paper.

“Thanks, I’m a little behind.” He rested his
head on one hand and his eyes drifted closed again. And then opened
again when his elbow slid to one side and his hand fell to the
desk. “Not much though,” he continued as if he’d never stopped
speaking.

Dylan pursed his lips. “We need to release
them tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” He dropped his chin to his chest.
Maybe Dylan would take the hint and leave. Instead, pain in his
left shin caused him to raise his head and scowl at his best
friend. “Did you just kick me? I said tomorrow.”

He rested his head back against the top of
his chair.

“Shane!”

For the third time, his eyes snapped open at
Dylan’s outburst. “Sorry man, I’m beat.”

“Enough is enough. You’ve got to see a
doctor.”

“I’m fine, Dylan. I just need some
sleep.”

“Look, Shane.” Dylan pushed the door closed
with one foot. “I have a suggestion.”

He forced his eyelids to stay open.

“I think you should call Liberty
Prescott.”

“The shrink?”

Dylan nodded.

“I think her specialty is sex.”

Dylan’s eyes darted around the office.
“Maddie and I are seeing her.”

Shane’s mouth fell open at that admission.
“You hired a sex therapist?”

“Sshh,” Dylan hissed. “Since Maddie’s attack,
she’s been a nervous wreck.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think.” Even Shane heard
the hoarse frustration in his voice. “I don’t need sex therapy, I
need sleep. I’m so damn tired!”

“Call her, Shane.”

“I just finished her inspection.”

“And?”

“She’s beautiful.”

Dylan raised both eyebrows. “You hit on her,
didn’t you?”

“I told you, I’m out of my mind right now,”
he grumbled.

“So, how did she respond?”

“Politely.”

“Oooh.” Dylan winced. “However, now she knows
you need help.”

“Bite me, Carmichael.”

“Call her.”

Shane reached in his pocket, squeezed a
Fireball out of its cellophane package, and tossed the candy onto
his tongue. “Did the forensics come back on the fire?” He paused,
mad as hell they couldn’t avoid this discussion. Damn, he needed a
cigarette.

Dylan gestured at the candy wrapper. “How
long has it been since you cheated?”

“Three weeks. How about you?”

“Four days,” Dylan groaned.

Out of necessity, Shane redirected the
conversation. “The fire, Dylan.”

“Acetone ignited the flame.”

“Acetone?”

Dylan shook his head. “Fast and hot.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing.”

Shane stood and sighed. “I’ll be at home.
Call if something comes up.”

Dylan nodded. “Can you drive?”

He gave his best friend a smirk. “I’ll wait
until I get there to crash.”

“Smartass.”

Shane dragged himself away from the station,
considering Dylan’s advice all the way home. Was he that weak? He
released a hard breath. It had been months and he still couldn’t
sleep a whole night without Fred and Dino.