Читать книгу The Playboy Firefighter's Proposal - Emily Forbes, Emily Forbes - Страница 7

CHAPTER TWO

HER urge to fidget was nearing the point of compulsion. Being cooped up in the meeting room at police headquarters to review the simulated exercise of the preceding day was wearing thin. Luckily, Ned was there to provide some distraction.

She figured they had at least another hour to go before they’d be finished and right now the matter under discussion didn’t involve her. It was between the police and ambulance teams and Lucas and Angie had it covered so she was free to steal glances at Ned.

He’d been very much on her mind since yesterday. Images of a seriously attractive fireman with mischievous green eyes, a cheeky grin and a physique that was hard in all the right places and shaped just as nature intended had kept popping into her head. So much so she found it a bit unsettling now he was back in front of her again. It was impossible to ignore him.

He was lounging in his chair and even that posture seemed to work in his favour. He looked easy in his skin. And easy on the eyes. His dark blue uniform was spotless, the trousers were pressed, T-shirt tucked in and fitted to his body, leaving no unsightly creases. As usual, he’d been running his fingers through his hair, leaving it sticking up in tufts. The dishevelled look enhanced his larrikin air.

Was it any wonder she was finding it hard to focus?

Sighing over a man wouldn’t keep her where she needed to be, which was in the safe place she’d made for herself since she’d got Alistair out of her life, or rather since Alistair had ditched her unceremoniously. She’d perfected the art of self-protection when it came to men—why sigh with longing over a guy who was a threat to that security? She should be troubled to find she had diminishing control over her thoughts when it came to Ned. Losing control meant being vulnerable.

Vulnerable was a state she’d sworn never to be in again.

Alistair. The name swam into mind, her old mantra, the one that never failed to remind her why self-protection was essential and messing about with men was for fools.

Yet there was something about Ned that was making it increasingly difficult to remember any of those hard-learned lessons.

That was four times now he’d sprung her stealing glances at him. By the time the team review had finished he was almost bursting to get to her side and make the most of her apparent interest. There wouldn’t be many more meetings like this and when they were finished he’d have to be more obvious about wanting to spend time with her. Maximising his opportunities was the way to go.

‘You might have the others fooled, but I know where your mind was just now,’ he said in a quiet voice, for her alone. ‘You can’t look that serene if you’re thinking about work.’

Maybe she hadn’t been thinking about him. Maybe she’d been daydreaming and oblivious to the fact she’d simply been staring at him, but, judging by the faint bloom of pink dusting her cheeks at his comment, perhaps it wasn’t a vain hope. Perhaps she wasn’t as immune to him as she’d seemed.

She didn’t answer straight away, continuing to gather her papers, a slight smile on her lips, her perfect white teeth worrying at her full bottom lip as she snapped each rubber band and attached each bulldog clip exactly so on each bundle of papers with long fingers before sliding each highlighter pen neatly into its plastic case.

He’d never been the slightest bit interested in unravelling the mysteries of women’s apparently universal love affair with stationery. But now? Watching Sarah sort her pens in an obvious order, not just one after the other, but some at this end of that packet, another there, it occurred to him that if there was a woman in the world who could make stationery fascinating, he was looking at her.

‘If I was looking serene…’ Her tone was light and cheery without any trace of the embarrassment or confusion he’d glimpsed initially. ‘Then I must have been thinking about the shoe sale I’m ducking out to at lunch.’

‘Not buying it,’ he said good-naturedly. ‘But I am buying coffee. And since we all planned on being here for at least another hour, you can’t say you’re needed back at work.’

Sarah had finished gathering her things and he held the door open for her as they walked to the lifts.

‘I wasn’t going to,’ she said as she glanced up at him before entering the lift. ‘But at last count I’ve had three cups of coffee this morning.’

Bending his head close to hers, he said softly, ‘You’re not answering my question.’

‘I’m not?’

‘Telling me how much caffeine you’ve had doesn’t tell me whether you want more. With me.’

‘Ah.’ She smiled as the lift doors opened at the ground floor and his spirits rose anew. She glanced at a giant metal clock suspended on the rear wall of the foyer and apparently discerned the time from the bare face and the single razor-sharp hand before he’d even been sure it was a clock. ‘I have half an hour but, really, if I have any more coffee I’ll be flying back to work. As it is, I’d better walk back to get rid of some of these caffeine jitters.’

She was definitely looking agitated but the pink in her cheeks and the way she wasn’t quite meeting his eyes suggested any jitters weren’t from the caffeine. Did he make her nervous or was she as aware of the energy between them as he was?

‘You have to walk past the fire station. I’ll walk with you.’

‘You don’t want a coffee?’

‘I’m trying to cut down,’ he said, laughing, letting her know that wasn’t the slightest bit true, and the coffee had only been a reason to be with her. Walking would do just as well.

They turned right onto the street and headed up through the city. He automatically shortened his long strides so she could keep pace as he chatted to her about her work and answered her questions about the simulated exercise.

And all the while, he was working towards one thing: eroding whatever notion she’d got into her very appealing mind that she should keep her distance. Sure, she’d come along every time he’d suggested coffee or a drink but only once she’d been sure the others were going to be there, too. Why was that? He wanted her; he was confident now the interest was mutual. So why the hesitation to explore it?

There was a lot more to Sarah Richardson than looks and brains. If he didn’t figure out why he couldn’t get her out of his head, he was going to go crazy.

‘What does the rest of the day hold for you?’ Sarah asked as they came into sight of the station.

‘More paperwork for the CBR training and when that’s done I practise looking busy.’

‘How do you do that exactly?’ Sarah looked at him, a gleam of amusement in her eyes. Her question gave him the flash of inspiration he was waiting for. Genius!

‘Come in and I’ll show you. There’s a knack to it.’

They’d reached the station and were standing before the massive glass doors that were tall enough to allow the biggest of the engines to exit and enter. A row of shiny red fire engines was visible through the glass. ‘Can I?’

He did a mental punch of the air. He should have invited her for a private tour of the station weeks ago.

‘You can and you shall.’ He placed a hand on the small of her back, relishing the body warmth coming through her shirt, telling himself the desire kicking up and down his spine wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

It was all about the challenge.

Why, then, was he filled with a sudden urge to show her how good he was at his job and a rush of excitement that he was about to get the opportunity?

The equation was simple: if she wanted him and he wanted her, chemistry would take care of all the little details. He could sit back and enjoy letting the attraction unfold.

The niggling sense of pressure to make a good impression didn’t mean anything.

It was craziness, pure and simple, but she could have clapped her hands with glee when he’d asked her to see the station. She resisted giving such a physical demonstration of her pleasure. Just. She didn’t manage to disguise it completely, though. The cool, calm and collected woman she’d intended to present herself as wouldn’t have said quite so excitedly, ‘What can I see first?’

‘Enthusiastic tour groups, that’s the sort we like.’ He led her through one of the open doors, between two huge fire engines, until they were standing in the central area of the station, looking past the vehicles out to the city street.

‘The fire trucks are all different,’ she said, waving a hand along the row of vehicles while mentally giving her fears about men a swift kick into submission. It was just a visit to the fire station, something she’d be keen to do with or without Ned playing tour guide, she tried to convince herself.

‘Appliances,’ Ned said.

She must have looked confused. For a moment she had almost looked around for a white-goods section.

‘They’re called appliances, not trucks.’

She thought about it for a moment and then nodded.

‘You’re not going to make a crack about us driving around in toasters and washing machines?’

‘The thought never crossed my mind,’ she lied, as she smiled innocently at him.

‘In that case, it’s settled. You get the extra-special tour reserved for extra-special people who don’t make cracks about firemen. The burden we bear for the good of the city,’ he added on a dramatic note.

‘A thespian in a fireman’s pants?’

‘You’d be surprised what you’d find inside a fireman’s pants.’ The sparkle in his eyes told her he was fully aware of the innuendo in his comment.

Who could blame her if her cheeks flamed to match the appliances?

‘Get your mind out of the gutter,’ he teased. ‘I’m speaking figuratively.’

‘Like I should know that. But you can’t stop now. Titillate me with tales of firemen’s pants.’

‘There you go again,’ he said, shaking his head at her as they walked to the largest of the engines and he leant against it with a casual air, perfectly in his element and posing more danger by the minute to her already wobbly equilibrium. ‘But since you really want to know, I’ll let you inside just a few of the pairs of pants around this joint. We have an artist, a nurse…’ he held up a hand and counted them off on his fingers ‘…a carpenter, several professional footballers…’ He started the count again with his right hand. ‘A builder and a chef.’

‘So I shouldn’t be surprised at what I find? Even a thespian?’

‘Sure, why not?’ He straightened up and pulled open the door of the vehicle as if it was made of paper, not the huge, heavy thing she knew it was. ‘And if I ever come across one, I’ll be sure to introduce you.’

He sent her a wink that turned her insides to jelly and then motioned her over. She floated across as if under a spell. That was some wink. And now, between his bulk, all broad shoulders and long, lean height, and the huge vehicle rising up beside them, she felt delightfully feminine.

Was this why firefighters were so attractive? They made women feel small and delicate and safe? Even a woman who prided herself on never needing to rely on a man for protection? She shrugged off the thought as being the crazy bit of fluff it was. Since when had feeling like a guy could, and would if the need arose, protect her become a turn-on?

‘Climb aboard. Your magical mystery tour is about to begin.’ Once again he placed his hand on the small of her back as she started to climb up into the cab. The feel of his large hand through the cotton of her shirt was delicious and far too distracting. So much so she could mentally outline exactly where the tip of each finger was resting.

But the familiar anxiety was there, too, that always came with a man’s touch. The anxiety wasn’t as powerful as she would have expected, though, not as powerful as the attraction she was feeling. Normally her anxiety would increase proportionately, but strangely it wasn’t happening. Yes, the niggle of self-consciousness was there, but here she was, experiencing an attraction more intense than she could ever remember feeling, and she wasn’t feeling totally overwhelmed.

On the contrary, he was so close his scent was filling her head and making it spin in a way that left no doubt she was drawn to him. Each time she took a breath, the rush of desire was strong and coursed through her body. He smelt of woods and the outdoors, the blend heady and original. She just knew it hadn’t come out of a bottle, or, if it had, it had mixed with his own natural scent so that it was now his own. If a company could package it, they’d be on to a sure hit. Women would buy it simply to put on their pillows and go to sleep dreaming of a man like Ned.

She lost the smell of him when he closed the cab door behind her, but in seconds he had come around the other side of the truck—oops, the appliance—and was springing into the driver’s seat beside her. She edged closer to take another breath. If scent could be addictive, she was already there and it was a struggle to get her mouth to work and form any words to break the silence.

‘You didn’t tell me which one of those descriptions fits you.’ When he looked at her, she added, ‘Are you the poet? The footballer? The chef?’

‘None of the above,’ he said as he flicked switches and brought the appliance to life, buttons and lights flashing on the console and across a bewildering array of levers and headsets and gadgets. ‘Since I’ve taken on the role of training co-ordinator for the first response unit I’m one of the few without a second job beyond the service. I’m very much full-time here now.’

‘And before?’

He laughed. ‘I was addicted to extreme sports. Still am, in fact, just don’t get quite the same time for it now.’

‘Extreme sports?’ She looked at him to check if he was serious. He didn’t look like he was joking. He was still reading dials, not waiting for her reaction. ‘Like free-climbing and base-jumping?’

‘Very much like that.’

The emergency doctor in her was horrified. The woman in her was undeniably impressed. Impressed and begging for more images to add to her fantasy bank.

‘I thought base-jumping was illegal in Australia?’

‘In some states it is but I haven’t done that yet. But if it’s legal and not just downright stupid, I’ll give it a go.’

‘Were you born an adrenalin junkie?’

He laughed and the sound wrapped around her like a familiar blanket. His dimple flashed in his cheek and his green eyes sparkled. He had one of the most contagious laughs she’d ever heard, a laugh that said life was fun and full of interesting things.

‘I started off slow—Mum took me to swimming lessons when I was six and I absolutely loved the water. That led to triathlons and once I’d done the Hawaiian Ironman the next challenge was extreme sports.’

‘The Hawaiian Ironman—that’s the one with a ten-kilometre swim and finishes with a marathon?’

‘It’s only a three-and-a-bit-kilometre swim.’ He grinned at her. ‘But don’t forget the one-hundred-and-eighty-k bike ride.’

‘And you completed it?’

‘Yep. A long way behind the leaders, I must admit.’

‘That’s still pretty amazing. No wonder you need to jump off buildings now.’

‘Well, I haven’t actually done that yet. Perhaps you should come with me some time?’

‘Sure.’ He turned to her, his expression a mix of pleasure and surprise, probably more like astonishment. Yep, she was pretty sure it would be astonishment as she was gob-smacked at her reply, too.

‘What exactly did you just agree to?’

She did a quick mental back-flip and came up with a save. ‘To watching you do something crazy.’

He tipped his head back and laughed again. ‘Touché.’

‘Isn’t it more fun being a hero with an audience?’

‘Hero? My mum would argue that point with you.’ He sent her a sidelong grin that had her gripping the seat cover with her fingernails. ‘But I never say no to an appreciative audience.’

‘I don’t think it’s in a mum’s job description to encourage risk-taking.’ The words came out in a burbled rush. She was still reeling from that grin. ‘What does your dad think? Or did you get your daredevil side from him?’

‘My dad died when I was little, but I think he was similarly inclined, at least before he had children. He was a fireman too—I think lots of us have that need for an adrenalin rush.’

His voice hadn’t changed when he’d answered her, he’d taken her question in his stride and his tone had dismissed the possibility of giving him any sympathy. He’d had an enormous loss as a little boy but it was quite clear he didn’t want her sympathy. She knew how that felt, so she wasn’t sure there was anything to read into it. They hardly knew each other, and she wasn’t rushing to confide her own losses and fears to him. For now, she’d leave it at that.

She followed his descriptions and asked myriad questions as he showed her through one appliance before explaining the other, different types. The station would have been intriguing no matter who was showing her around, but as it was Ned, it was that much better. He kept his commentary up with behind-the-scenes stories until she was enjoying herself so immensely she forgot about the anxiety pooled low in her belly.

He showed her through the whole station, including the gym, kitchen and sleeping quarters, before they ended the tour back where they had started over an hour before. He took that as a good sign. He hadn’t seen her look at her watch once, and she’d said she only had thirty minutes. This was not a woman keen to get away and if he knew anything, he’d swear she’d enjoyed herself with him. She’d relaxed and her laughter had come easily as he’d regaled her with his funniest stories of station life.

When had he last enjoyed a woman’s company so much, beyond the bedroom or in it? If it was about the chase, the signs were pointing towards a good outcome. But the signal that it was something more was still emitting a low-grade bleep somewhere in the back of his mind. Sarah was nothing like the usual women who sauntered up to him at the pub. Maybe that’s all it was.

‘Now, it doesn’t seem right that you know all there is to know about me but I still don’t know the first thing about what you do in your spare time.’

‘What I do? Spare time?’ She said the words like they were foreign to her.

Perhaps they were.

He gave her a little push in the direction he was really after. Subtlety wasn’t his middle name. According to his fellow firies, that honour went to charm. ‘Downtime for Sarah. You go out to dinner with your boyfriend. You paint. You go for long, romantic walks on the beach at sunset with your boyfriend. You enjoy cooking. You prefer spending cosy evenings at home on the couch, watching old black and white movies…’

‘With my boyfriend,’ she volunteered.

‘So you have a boyfriend?’ His voice sounded normal but he didn’t think he’d been quick enough to disguise his reaction to her words.

‘No, I don’t, but you seemed so keen on the idea I didn’t want to disappoint you.’ She was laughing openly at him, enjoying herself at his expense, and he didn’t mind a bit. Not now he knew he was free to pursue her as much as his heart desired.

‘You haven’t.’ He left her to figure that one out and charged ahead. ‘Back to the point—spare time and you don’t go together. You’re not knocking me over with your list of extra-curricular activities. I can’t know where to take you on our first date if I don’t know what you like.’

‘You want to take me out? On a date?’

For a moment he thought he’d jumped the gun. Perhaps she wasn’t as interested as he was. He wasn’t used to women hesitating but then she smiled. That didn’t help.

‘Are you smiling a “Yes, I’ll go out with you” or “I’m going to really enjoy turning him down” sort of smile?’

‘Neither.’ She met his eyes now. ‘But it’s a yes.’

The lines of concentration running across his forehead disappeared as his green eyes crinkled upwards with the smile—no, grin—that spread across his face. What a way to make a girl feel special. Ned had that talent down pat. She hadn’t intended to accept a date but he was hard to resist.

‘What about this weekend?’ They’d walked back to the door they’d first entered through, and he was leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

‘No good. I’m shopping for wedding shoes with my sister.’

‘More shoes! You can’t possibly shop all weekend for shoes and I hope it’s for her wedding and not yours as you just told me you don’t have a boyfriend.’

‘Shoe-shopping is only part of the weekend and, yes, it is my sister’s wedding. Saturday night I’m going to a charity dinner.’

‘A hospital fundraiser?’

‘No, it’s the dinner to kick off National Organ Donor Awareness Week. I’m often a guest speaker for them.’

‘Intriguing. And admirable.’

For a brief moment Sarah wondered about asking Ned to accompany her. She was always offered the option of bringing a guest, but she’d never taken a proper date. How would it feel to walk in on Ned’s arm dressed in her evening dress and him in black tie? For once she wouldn’t feel like the only partnerless person in the room, the one everyone wondered about.

How would it feel to walk in with him and know that every woman there, young or old, single or taken, would be sneaking glances, wishing she could trade places with her?

The undisguised interest in his eyes was clear. ‘You seem to have a fascinatingly rich internal life.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. By the expressions skittering across your face, it was a more interesting conversation than many I’ve actually been part of. I enjoyed putting thoughts to your expressions.’

‘What did you come up with?’

‘That you were debating whether to invite me to your dinner on Saturday night.’

She nearly choked and wanted to tell him he’d got it wrong but they both knew he’d read her exactly right. It was disconcerting. It felt dangerous, that with him she might be an open book when she’d spent so many years cultivating an impenetrable veneer of calm, capable self-sufficiency.

It was also strangely exhilarating, the feeling that here was a man who could get into her head with such ease. The desire winding down her spine increased another degree, further outweighing the anxiety in her belly.

‘Which voice won? The devil urging you, telling you it’s just dinner, or the angel warning you against it?’

And suddenly dangerous and exhilarating were ever so much more appealing than safe and capable. The devil she could cope with. It was when Ned’s voice, with its deep, treacled tones, rich with entreaty, was added into the equation that she thought, To hell with it. It would only be one date, the devil whispered, as the angel all but gave up on her.

A date with the devil?

Her gaze met his with magnet-like force and the area around them seemed to shrink in contrast to the power of his presence. And in that moment, she knew that so long as the devil had green eyes like Ned’s, there was not a woman alive whose angelic tendencies had any hope of shouting down that other, darker voice.

Her angel gave it one last shot. ‘I only have one ticket.’

‘Do you always play by the rules?’

‘I guess so.’ A brief, thrilling flare lit inside her. Safe Sarah aimed the extinguisher at it and said instead, ‘Besides, you’d probably find it very dull and dry.’

‘I think there’d be ways of livening the evening up. Women in evening gowns, all trying to outshine one another, a bit of dancing. There’s always fun to be had.’

Spurred on by the gleam in his eyes, she teetered very close to ignoring the rules. Her rules.

And she might have done it except that, at that moment, lights began flashing, bells started ringing and an announcement came over the PA system ending all chance at having a conversation without yelling. Five seconds earlier she and Ned had had the place to themselves, or so it had seemed, but now there were firemen pouring into the area from all directions, running for the appliances. Before she’d had a chance to really process what was going on Ned had already bent to her side, pressed a feather-light kiss on her cheek and said, ‘Gotta go, that’s my crew being called. I’ll be in touch.’

She stood still, transfixed, marvelling at the feel of Ned’s lips on her skin. As light as the touch had been, it had held the promise of much, much more. She needed a moment to savour it and, besides, she wasn’t leaving now, not when there was a full-scale response happening in front of her. She watched Ned kick off his shoes and in one movement step into a pair of overalls and boots. He pulled the overalls up over his dark pants, hoisting the straps over his shoulders. Seconds later, he was swinging up into the front passenger seat, his biceps bulging as he pulled his weight up. In less than a minute the appliance was pulling out of the station.

It took less time than that to burn a fabulous image of Ned the firefighter into her visual cortex, an image she just knew would be replayed over and over until she saw him again. Although she had a strong suspicion she’d spend as much time regretting that she’d also missed her chance to thumb her nose at convention and take him to the dinner after all.

As it was, once again she went to a five-star event on her own. And as she entered the foyer of the hotel, all dressed up but all alone, she knew what she really wanted was to walk in on the arm of a man with a twinkle in his eye and lips as soft as velvet.