Captive Hearts (Hearts on Fire Book 2)

by L. M. Connolly

  Scarlett appeared beside him, waving a dusty piece of fabric. “Fire blanket!” she yelled.

  Without hesitation, he shoved her back again as the extinguisher finally began to spray. “Later!” If this didn’t work, he’d take her out of here and call the emergency services. The fire looked bad, flames shooting up the corner of the kitchen, but it wasn’t spreading any farther—yet.

  Taking a wide-legged stance, he deployed the extinguisher. He didn’t stop until the thing was empty. The stench of burning rubber and metal suffused the room, and now the choking, chemical stench of the powder he’d sprayed over the burning mass. Reaching out, he grabbed the blanket from Scarlett, and stepped forward to smother the remaining flickers and glowing embers.

  Glancing to one side, he saw her, phone in hand, watching him with wide eyes. “It’s an electrical fire.” Grimly, he surveyed the charred wires poking out of the back of what had once been a microwave. “I need to turn the power off.”

  “Really?” She sounded hoarse, throaty. In other circumstances he’d find that tone sexy but he was too concerned for their safety right now. Hers in particular.

  “Yes, really.”

  She pointed to a small door at the back of the room. “The junction box is in the cellar.”

  “Do you have a flashlight?”

  To her credit, she’d already grabbed one from somewhere. She handed it over.

  “Don’t go anywhere near that mess until I come back. Be prepared for the lights to go out.” He snapped out the orders, only satisfied when she nodded.

  He was as fast as he could be, but it took him far too long to locate the service panel and the breaker box. He had to destroy a few cobwebs to get to it, which didn’t bode well. The whole cellar stank of damp, and apart from a forlorn rack of wine in one corner, it was scandalously unused. A cool cellar was an asset, but the people who lived here didn’t seem to think so.

  With the power off, Ethan sucked down a deep breath of relief. Crisis averted. Careless of his once-white shirt, now blackened and scuffed beyond saving, he leaned against the wall and folded his arms, giving himself a few seconds to recover from the crisis. His heart pounded against his chest, not from exertion, but fear. For Scarlett and her future.

  Forgetting his own part in this, he thought over what she’d told him. The sooner she learned that sentiment had no part in business, the happier she’d be. She couldn’t do everything this house needed.

  That apart from the fact that her failure meant his success. He didn’t want to do this to her. He didn’t want to destroy her livelihood and leave her with nothing.

  If he left her until she was desperate, which was something he should do from a business aspect, he’d get this place for a song. But the cost was far more than that because he’d destroy her spirit. Was the destruction of a person worth waiting a few more months?

  His father wouldn’t hesitate. He’d run to his accountant and get him to halve his offer. Never mind the human cost. That had no place in business.

  Which was why Ethan wouldn’t do it.

  He wouldn’t do it because his father would, because that kind of underhand tactic went against everything he stood for. Not because of his attraction to her. No, not that.

  Every step he took toward her increased his attraction, and more, his care for her. Care, yeah. He gave a hollow laugh. Unwittingly, she’d slipped under his skin, made him care. When he’d seen her, he’d wanted her, but sex and friendship didn’t always go together. Not for him. But if he took Scarlett to bed, he’d be developing their friendship into a new area, not sleeping with a mutually agreeable partner and then going their separate ways.

  Shit, he had it bad. And then he’d worried about her being alone this weekend. With good cause, as it turned out.

  Once he’d caught his breath, he took the chance to study his surroundings more closely. The flashlight had a powerful beam, clearly illuminating the ancient wires, rubber if he wasn’t mistaken, and the frayed junctions. This place was a death trap.

  He headed for the stone stairway leading back up to the kitchen.

  Scarlett faced him, clutching a handful of candles, some table candles, and a box of plain wax ones. “I can’t find another torch,” she said apologetically, her voice shaking despite her efforts to meet his gaze directly.

  He held out his free hand. “Give.”

  When she handed him a candle he went to the blackened mess in the corner and found a glowing ember, using it as a light before extinguishing it. He turned, catching her surreptitiously wiping the corner of her eye. Her breasts heaved as she pulled in a breath. “I can recommend a hotel nearby,” she said. “If I call them they’ll find you a room. Complementary of course.”

  Appalled, he stared at her for a minute before he got her full meaning. “I’m going nowhere.” He lit another candle from the first one. “Did you really think I’d leave you with this?” He jerked his chin to indicate the scene. “Think again, sweetheart. I’m staying right here.”

  She turned her head away. “I’m sorry.” Tears stained her voice.

  “For what?” After planting the candles in two plain white dishes on the table, he strode to her and put his hands on her upper arms. She was trembling. “This isn’t your fault.”

  “Yes, it is. I shouldn’t have left the microwave alone. It’s been shorting out for a while.”

  That didn’t surprise him, having seen the state of the wiring. “No, it’s…” he was about to say “your lack of funds,” but that would have revealed too much about what he knew. “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is.” He glanced to the corner. The fire was dead, thank God. “You could have been killed. You can’t put the electricity on again until it’s been checked and replaced. The wires are too far gone.”

  Shock widened her eyes. “Just in the kitchen, right?”

  “I don’t know. Probably not.” What he’d seen in the cellar didn’t inspire confidence. “But you’ll have to keep the electricity off for now.”

  “What do you have to do with it?” she demanded. “Are you the elf?”

  He blinked, and frowned. “Pardon me?”

  She gave a shaky laugh. “Sorry. Health and Safety. Feeble joke.”

  Ah. Elf. The way the word sounded in a Cockney accent. He hadn’t been here long enough to get that one. Very funny, except he wasn’t ready to laugh. “No, I’m not. But I am concerned about you. This place is primed to go up in smoke. Where’s your bedroom?”

  Her eyes widened. “Sorry?”

  She was on edge, struggling to process what had happened. The dazed expression on her face told him that.

  He shook his head. “I’m not hitting on you.” Not yet. “But if you sleep at the top of the house and a fire starts in the kitchen, by the time you realize something is wrong, you’ll be dead.”

  Because he was still holding her, he felt the shudder that passed through her.

  He had no choice but to pull her into his arms and hold her steady. “You must know you can’t go on like this.”

  “Like what?” Her voice was muffled, her breath heating his chest.

  “With wiring older than you. I won’t let it happen.”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “You want me to walk away, knowing you’ll flip that switch and kill yourself?” When she tried to pull away, he kept hold of her. He was about to release her when she snuggled closer. With relief, he held her, pressed a light kiss to the top of her head.

  She smelled of strawberries. Under the stink of chemicals and singed rubber, the scent was like a whiff of paradise.

  He melted, giving in to his desire. He couldn’t resist any longer, and he wouldn’t deny the powerful urge to take care of her. “Promise me you won’t turn it on again until you’ve had an electrician in to look at it.”

  She spoke against his chest. “It’s bad, right? Probably the whole house.” Lifting her head, she met his gaze. So beautiful. She deserved better than this dump of a hotel, this grinding life. “I�
��ll have to close now instead of later and get the place rewired.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  He wouldn’t let that happen. Normal rewiring would be a waste of time and money, considering what he wanted to do with the place. After that she’d have to get the plumbing done, before she replastered.

  No way would he let this gem of a woman slave for nothing, try to save something salvageable.

  Now he’d seen the wiring he had a good idea what needed spending on this place to bring it around, and he doubted she had a tenth of it.

  Once the deal was done, she’d be sure to be better off. She’d have a life. Even in its current state the hotel was worth seven figures. Prices of houses in London had gone crazy.

  Even now, when he held her sweet body in his arms, he had to admit he didn’t know her. He just thought he did. If he told her his plans, she could shoot her mouth off all over town.

  He closed his eyes and let himself drift for a few precious seconds, until she said, “The freezers are full. Everything will spoil.”

  “Don’t you have insurance?”

  Her hesitation told him more than he suspected she meant. “Yes, but it won’t cover this.”

  What kind of insurance did she have? If she had any at all. “You can’t put the power on again.”

  “You already said that.”

  “I don’t want you to die.” That had come straight from his heart.

  He could go back to the Noir, or spend a comfortable night in his bed. He could take her with him, but then she’d know who he was and why he’d come here. He told himself it was because he didn’t want his family to get wind of what he was up to and demand a piece of it. He was investing millions in this venture.

  But it wasn’t just that, not just the threat that if she found out who he was, she’d double her price. He wanted her to think of him as a normal person with a normal life. He wanted to be that person, if only for a day or two.

  His feelings were complex, and he couldn’t sort them out right now. What he didn’t want to do was leave her alone in this death trap of a building.

  He forced himself to release her. “Candles are romantic, but flashlights are safer.”

  “This house was built to handle candlelight,” she said softly. “I don’t have enough batteries to last all night.” The damned light was far too forgiving for his liking. It softened her skin, sent gleams skittering over her hair when the flames flickered, and outlined her body with a soft chiaroscuro that invited his touch.

  Except she hadn’t. Invited it, that was, and until she did, she was out of bounds.

  Stepping back hurt him; he could actually feel the pain in the vicinity of his heart. And his damned cock was standing to attention again. He had to turn into the shadows so she wouldn’t notice, but her gaze flicked over him, head to toe and back again. And she’d seen.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked softly.

  Yes, for her. Was she teasing him? But she sounded so innocent when she asked. He glanced at his forgotten plate of food. “I’m fine. And it’s cold now. It was good, by the way.” But not great. The food was too greasy for his taste, and he’d spent enough time in Britain to know it wasn’t usual for this particular dish.

  “I’m sorry. The cooker’s electric, so I can’t heat it up for you. But I have cold food.” Her mouth flattened. “Although it won’t be cold for too much longer.”

  “Most of the food in the refrigerator will keep just fine if you keep the door closed.”

  She shook her head. “Not if I have to keep the power off for a long time.” She glanced at the two big fridges and the matching freezers that occupied one side of the kitchen. As luck had it, the fire hadn’t touched them. “I’ll write the stuff off. There’s a homeless shelter nearby. I’ll ring the supervisors and give it to them.” She went to the kitchen table and picked up her phone to make the call.

  Not everyone would have thought of that. In the face of a personal tragedy, she was still generous enough to think of others. Ethan wasn’t sure he’d have considered it as fast as she did. But he wouldn’t have found himself in her situation. She must have been desperate to let the repairs go as much as she had. He thought of the bare wires downstairs and shuddered.

  “They’re on their way,” she said, cutting the call. “They’re bringing a van.”

  He pulled his ruined shirt away from his body. “I’ll go change and be down to help. Put a few days’ worth of food aside for yourself.”

  “You don’t have to. Really. You’re a guest.”

  After shooting her a look of disbelief, he went out of the room.

  He had a quick, freezing shower, and found his jeans and a plain black T-shirt, running downstairs as the van arrived. A man and a woman stood in the hall with Scarlett. The woman gave him a quick once-over, and returned her attention to Scarlett.

  Ethan introduced himself as Evan, but didn’t offer any more information. The woman went outside to bring in a trolley, and he went to help her. The thing was old and unwieldy, so it took both of them to carry it over the three steps that crossed what Londoners called “the area,” basically a plunge down into the small paved space below, where the bins were usually kept.

  “Haven’t I seen you before?” the woman asked him.

  “I doubt it,” Ethan said, meeting her gaze. He was too seasoned at this to look away. Then she’d be bound to suspect something. “I’m nobody important.” According to his family he wasn’t. Just the guy who kept them in designer clothes and houses in the Hamptons.

  With a shrug, the woman crossed the tiled floor, trailing her carrier behind her.

  Scarlett and the man from the shelter were standing in front of the refrigerators, piling the contents into boxes and on the table. The man, wearing the waterproof jacket with “Oxford Street Homeless Shelter” emblazoned on the back, glanced around at them. “Oh, great, we’ll need that.”

  The next half hour was a flurry of piling stuff into the trolley and taking it out to the van, stacking everything inside. The workers had brought a few freezer boxes with them, but not enough, so they were forced to pile some things loose in the back. “If we hurry, we can get them inside before they spoil.”

  The man paused, turning to give Scarlett a hug. “Thanks a million. If we can help, let us know. And if you want some of this stuff back, tell us. We’re leaving you with nothing.”

  Scarlett smiled, although her lips trembled a little. “It’s okay. I kept a few bits back, but you’ve had most of it. The insurance should cover the loss.”

  The man nodded. “But let us know, okay?”

  Ethan was glad Scarlett had friends in the area. She was going to need them. And that stuff about the insurance was crap. He’d bet she had only what she needed. The insurance wouldn’t cover the fire, because she hadn’t taken proper care of the wiring, and the contents of the freezer would be rolled into that. A power cut in the area would have saved her, but they didn’t have many of those. The houses and offices across the street still glowed with light and the streetlamps still sent their ghostly light down on them. Once the insurer saw the state of that ancient wiring, he’d probably insist it was replaced before they reinsured.

  They returned indoors, but in the hall he turned and confronted her. “Do you have anyone you can call? Someone you can stay with?” From his research, he knew her father usually lived here.

  She answered far too fast. “No.” She bit her lip, making him yearn to kiss it and soothe the sore spot with his tongue.

  No, this was too much, but whatever it cost him, he needed to ensure she was safe. “There’s somewhere I could take you. Back to the hotel I left to come here.” Which was true enough. He’d take her to the Noir and get her a suite. Bare it all and tell her who he was, although then she’d treat him differently. They always did. She wouldn’t try to seduce him, but she’d want to keep her distance, and then he’d never have a chance to get close to her.

  And if that happened he’d always wonder what could h
ave happened, what they could have been like together.

  “With all those kids?” Her grin took him by surprise until he remembered what he’d told her, his excuse for coming here. A hotel full of tourists and kids.

  “They’ll find us a couple of quiet rooms.”

  “No, but thank you. You go. I’ll be fine. I don’t want to leave this place empty. I’m sure it’s safe.” Her fake grin was garish. He hated it.

  “I’ll stay. I want to make sure you don’t turn the power back on.” If she was staying, so was he.

  “I won’t, I promise.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “I fired the cook today.”

  She turned away, her movements stiff and awkward.

  There was more to that story than she was letting on. “Why did you do that?” He kept his tone mild, but he suspected something.

  “He hit on me. He said he wanted payment in kind for coming in tonight.”

  Ethan took his time answering. “I see.” If he said any more he’d betray the jolt of fury that energized him like a bolt of lightning. Opening the only refrigerator that held anything, he stacked a few salad items into his arms, only turning when he was sure his mood wasn’t reflected in his face. “Then you’re well rid of him. Don’t pay him any more than you owe him.”

  She sighed. “It was a shock. He’d flirted with me before, but not like this. And he’s married with children.”

  “Then I feel sorry for his family.” He put the items on the chopping board on the counter, and found a knife in the block, regarding its shiny surface grimly.

  “Stay where you are. I’ll get us something to eat.”

  He didn’t like her pallor, or the way her eyelids drooped. She’d been working on empty for a long time.

  *

  Resistance seeped out of her in one long sigh. Scarlett could barely think. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and the lack of sustenance was catching up with her, especially after the day she’d had. She was done. Because he was right. The wiring in the hotel had deteriorated badly, but since it hadn’t been changed since she was little, that wasn’t surprising.