Hot as Sin
Page 16
She wanted to stare at him, drink in his tanned skin, the sexy new lines on his face. She wanted to continue studying him until she figured out when and how he’d changed from the hot young firefighter she’d loved to this mature man, who looked rough and hard in all the right places and soft in none.
She forgot everything as she looked at him, her worries about April and the accident shrinking to a small glimmer in the back of her mind. All this time she’d convinced herself that she’d left her past behind her, but simply seeing Sam was pushing every last one of her painful emotions back up to the surface.
She was frightened by the attraction that still simmered between them. But most of all, she was alarmed by how much she loved seeing him, by how much it mattered to her that he came all the way to Colorado to check on her.
The last time she’d cared this much about Sam, he’d broken her heart.
Somehow, she needed to stop herself from falling all over again.
Thus far, she hadn’t managed to play it cool, which was crazy. She was a master of cool. She’d been in a hundred uncomfortable situations on her TV set. She needed to draw on those experiences and pull herself together.
So although she was dying to know every last detail about the last ten years of Sam’s life, she wouldn’t allow herself to give in to her curiosity. Instead, she’d assuage it by asking about his brother. She’d be polite. Interested, of course, because she’d always liked Connor. But she’d pull back before the conversation had any chance of going too deep.
“You mentioned Connor. How is he?”
Sam’s expression went from hot to cold so fast her head spun.
“None of us heard from you for ten years. You didn’t leave a telephone number. Or an address. You didn’t send Christmas cards to the station. You just disappeared.”
The force of his words pushed her back against the pillows. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but no words came.
“I gave you what you wanted, Dianna. I let you be gone. So what do you care what happened to Connor?” She was reeling from the anger—and hurt—behind his words. But she couldn’t ignore the red flag of danger that told her something had happened to Connor. Something bad.
“Something happened to him, didn’t it?”
His lips tightened and the muscle in his jaw jumped. She held her breath, desperate now to find out what had happened to Connor, even though she already knew she wasn’t going to like what she heard.
“He was burned. Last summer in a blowup in Desolation Wilderness.”
“Oh God,” she breathed, remembering the news reports from that wildfire. “Every time I heard about a bad fire in the Sierras, I thought about you,” she said softly.
His face registered surprise and she mirrored it back at him. Suddenly it seemed important that he know just how difficult it had been—both then and now—to stop worrying about him and the rest of the men she’d known on the Tahoe Pines crew.
“Just because I left Lake Tahoe didn’t mean I could pretend your job wasn’t dangerous. I thought about everyone on the crew. About Connor. And I prayed that all of you would make it through unscathed.”
When she stopped talking, she realized she’d broken her own vow to keep her distance. The beautiful man standing in front of her was too dangerous for such recklessness.
“We all came out of it fine,” he said. “Everyone except Connor.”
The thought of how much pain Connor must have been in sent a new wave of nausea through her.
“Where was he burned?”
“His hands and arms,” Sam said in a cool, almost clinical voice. “His chest and the back of his head a bit.”
She could only imagine how hard it must have been for Sam to watch his brother get hurt. To be so close and yet just far enough away that he couldn’t save him, couldn’t keep the fire from taking its spoils.
On the verge of saying this, she realized he was staring at her hands. Looking down, she realized she was cracking her knuckles and made herself pull her hands apart. The cracking was a sign of weakness. Dianna hated showing weakness to anyone.
Especially Sam.
“Tell me what happened, Sam. Please.”
He was silent for a long while and she thought she understood why. Firefighters weren’t big talkers, especially when one of them got hurt. Sam had explained it to her once, telling her that the most important thing was getting back out and doing their job, not stewing on what had gone wrong.
In truth, this trait had been one of the things about Sam that had driven her crazy: He’d always had her on a “need to know” basis. And as far as he’d been concerned, she simply didn’t need to know the gory, scary details of his day-to-day, which meant she’d known next to nothing about his job and had to get her information from the newspaper like everyone else.
Sensing that more questions would only put him more on guard, she gently observed, “I just can’t picture Connor getting hurt. He always seemed so invincible.”
Sam finally sat down on the chair beside her bed, so close that the hair on her arms stood on edge, and goose bumps covered her skin.
Late at night, when she was exhausted and her defenses were down, she’d dreamed a thousand times about being with him again, but she never thought she would experience this closeness live and in person. She wanted to reach out and touch him to see if he was real or if he’d disappear like he always did in her dreams right before she pressed her lips against his.
“Logan, Connor, and I were working on clearing a patch of brush a quarter mile from the blaze.”
He spoke quickly, as if he had to get the words out before it became too difficult to recount the event.
“Sparks must have jumped over us in the wind, and before we knew it, we were on top of the fire. Logan realized it first, even though Connor and I were closer to the fire. Logan should have made a break for it. He should have saved himself. Instead he came down the hill and saved our lives.”
Dianna wasn’t surprised by what Logan had done. Like the rest of the men on Sam’s crew, Logan had been gorgeous and fearless, and yet he’d stood out to her. Not because she was attracted to him, but because she knew a kindred spirit when she met one. He hadn’t needed to tell her that his life hadn’t always been easy. She’d seen it in his eyes, in the set of his jaw, in the way he carried himself.
“I always liked Logan.”
She forgot everything as she looked at him, her worries about April and the accident shrinking to a small glimmer in the back of her mind. All this time she’d convinced herself that she’d left her past behind her, but simply seeing Sam was pushing every last one of her painful emotions back up to the surface.
She was frightened by the attraction that still simmered between them. But most of all, she was alarmed by how much she loved seeing him, by how much it mattered to her that he came all the way to Colorado to check on her.
The last time she’d cared this much about Sam, he’d broken her heart.
Somehow, she needed to stop herself from falling all over again.
Thus far, she hadn’t managed to play it cool, which was crazy. She was a master of cool. She’d been in a hundred uncomfortable situations on her TV set. She needed to draw on those experiences and pull herself together.
So although she was dying to know every last detail about the last ten years of Sam’s life, she wouldn’t allow herself to give in to her curiosity. Instead, she’d assuage it by asking about his brother. She’d be polite. Interested, of course, because she’d always liked Connor. But she’d pull back before the conversation had any chance of going too deep.
“You mentioned Connor. How is he?”
Sam’s expression went from hot to cold so fast her head spun.
“None of us heard from you for ten years. You didn’t leave a telephone number. Or an address. You didn’t send Christmas cards to the station. You just disappeared.”
The force of his words pushed her back against the pillows. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but no words came.
“I gave you what you wanted, Dianna. I let you be gone. So what do you care what happened to Connor?” She was reeling from the anger—and hurt—behind his words. But she couldn’t ignore the red flag of danger that told her something had happened to Connor. Something bad.
“Something happened to him, didn’t it?”
His lips tightened and the muscle in his jaw jumped. She held her breath, desperate now to find out what had happened to Connor, even though she already knew she wasn’t going to like what she heard.
“He was burned. Last summer in a blowup in Desolation Wilderness.”
“Oh God,” she breathed, remembering the news reports from that wildfire. “Every time I heard about a bad fire in the Sierras, I thought about you,” she said softly.
His face registered surprise and she mirrored it back at him. Suddenly it seemed important that he know just how difficult it had been—both then and now—to stop worrying about him and the rest of the men she’d known on the Tahoe Pines crew.
“Just because I left Lake Tahoe didn’t mean I could pretend your job wasn’t dangerous. I thought about everyone on the crew. About Connor. And I prayed that all of you would make it through unscathed.”
When she stopped talking, she realized she’d broken her own vow to keep her distance. The beautiful man standing in front of her was too dangerous for such recklessness.
“We all came out of it fine,” he said. “Everyone except Connor.”
The thought of how much pain Connor must have been in sent a new wave of nausea through her.
“Where was he burned?”
“His hands and arms,” Sam said in a cool, almost clinical voice. “His chest and the back of his head a bit.”
She could only imagine how hard it must have been for Sam to watch his brother get hurt. To be so close and yet just far enough away that he couldn’t save him, couldn’t keep the fire from taking its spoils.
On the verge of saying this, she realized he was staring at her hands. Looking down, she realized she was cracking her knuckles and made herself pull her hands apart. The cracking was a sign of weakness. Dianna hated showing weakness to anyone.
Especially Sam.
“Tell me what happened, Sam. Please.”
He was silent for a long while and she thought she understood why. Firefighters weren’t big talkers, especially when one of them got hurt. Sam had explained it to her once, telling her that the most important thing was getting back out and doing their job, not stewing on what had gone wrong.
In truth, this trait had been one of the things about Sam that had driven her crazy: He’d always had her on a “need to know” basis. And as far as he’d been concerned, she simply didn’t need to know the gory, scary details of his day-to-day, which meant she’d known next to nothing about his job and had to get her information from the newspaper like everyone else.
Sensing that more questions would only put him more on guard, she gently observed, “I just can’t picture Connor getting hurt. He always seemed so invincible.”
Sam finally sat down on the chair beside her bed, so close that the hair on her arms stood on edge, and goose bumps covered her skin.
Late at night, when she was exhausted and her defenses were down, she’d dreamed a thousand times about being with him again, but she never thought she would experience this closeness live and in person. She wanted to reach out and touch him to see if he was real or if he’d disappear like he always did in her dreams right before she pressed her lips against his.
“Logan, Connor, and I were working on clearing a patch of brush a quarter mile from the blaze.”
He spoke quickly, as if he had to get the words out before it became too difficult to recount the event.
“Sparks must have jumped over us in the wind, and before we knew it, we were on top of the fire. Logan realized it first, even though Connor and I were closer to the fire. Logan should have made a break for it. He should have saved himself. Instead he came down the hill and saved our lives.”
Dianna wasn’t surprised by what Logan had done. Like the rest of the men on Sam’s crew, Logan had been gorgeous and fearless, and yet he’d stood out to her. Not because she was attracted to him, but because she knew a kindred spirit when she met one. He hadn’t needed to tell her that his life hadn’t always been easy. She’d seen it in his eyes, in the set of his jaw, in the way he carried himself.
“I always liked Logan.”
