Playing with Fire (Book 1 of the FIRE Trilogy)

by Devika Fernando

  * * *

  How ironic that they had come here to escape the dullness of normal life, only to realize that this was easier said than done. What use was her fire magic and Joshua’s ice magic if it couldn’t provide them with a roof over the head or food on the table?

  Felicia sighed. She had come to hate her job as a librarian back in America because it meant keeping up a calm pretense all the time and never having anything happen. How she had dreamt of not having to depend on a job or of doing something adventurous! And here she was, standing behind the 4-star hotel’s front desk in her neat slate-grey uniform, her curly red mane tamed into a braid, her face a constantly smiling mask. Speak of falling from the frying pan into the fire.

  Fire.

  For a moment, Felicia’s smile reached her eyes. No, she shouldn’t mope about having come here. The fire inside her certainly appreciated the move, although the moments of joy and magic were few and far between.

  While her days were spent handling the phone, checking the bookings and fawning over their international guests, and her lunch break consisted of learning the Icelandic language, her nights were a different matter altogether. When she wasn’t making love to Joshua, they were out and about, roaming the wildly beautiful landscape and living their paranormal side.

  She still had so much to learn, but she was much more comfortable with her fire magic now. Gone were the times when she had been scared of her own power, and exhausted whenever she used it consciously.

  Felicia was torn out of her thoughts by her fire dragon raising itself inside her with astonishing agility, its gleaming, fiery eyes wide, its nostrils flaring.

  What on earth was the matter with her alter ego today?

  There was no way she would be able to communicate, silently or not, for work was calling her. A tourist chose this very moment to enter the hotel.

  But was he a tourist? Felicia eyed the newcomer with interest. The young man sauntered across the lobby in a swagger that oozed confidence. He carried no luggage. Dressed in khakis and a red polo shirt, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his head held high, he scanned his surroundings. What he lacked a little in height, he made up for hundredfold in build. The fire dragon inside her purred at the way his shirt stretched over his muscled arms, broad chest and clearly outlined pectorals and washboard abs.

  Felicia frowned at her dragon’s reaction and remembered at the last moment to plaster her welcome smile on her face when the man—he must have been her age—walked straight toward her.

  When their eyes met, time stood still for a moment before it stuttered back to life like an engine with a miss.

  His eyes were the color of amber, unsettlingly close to the fiery glow hers took on whenever she let her wild side out. In his face, it made for an interesting contrast, because his unruly mop of dark brown hair and his bronzed, tanned skin tone highlighted the startling lightness of his irises.

  Even if she had wanted to look away, she couldn’t have, for the man held her gaze in a dead lock. Did she imagine it, or were his irises widening and glowing more? And why could she feel the fire inside her turn from soft little candle flames to ever higher-shooting flames?

  When Felicia finally blinked and broke the connection, she could sense that her body temperature had gone up, and it worried her. She shouldn’t lose control of her heat as it had happened months ago before Joshua had saved her. She knew full well that things could get out of hand in an instant if she didn’t remain alert and in control at all times.

  Automatically, Felicia widened her smile and chimed in when her two colleagues greeted the new guest with “Velkomin, welcome”.

  The stranger walked closer and beamed at them, but his gaze only flickered at the two women flanking her before returning to her face and burning into her again. Standing in front of the desk, he took his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms and make the muscles bulge.

  Why was it so hot inside the usually cool lobby with its simplistic wood furniture and glass-fronted walls? Surely all that heat didn’t come from her alone?

  “Góðan dag, good afternoon,” the stranger said, and his voice was like rough, gravelly stone and velvet rolled into one.

  “Ég…erm…” He seemed to be searching for the right words in Icelandic. “Oh shoot it…” he muttered, tossing his head back a little and staring right at her once more. “Talarðu esnku? Do you speak English?” He sported the hint of an American accent, less than her but definitely noticeable.

  “Yes, of course. How may I help you? Do you wish to book a room at the Selfoss Hotel?” Felicia replied in her politest tone, keeping her irritation to herself.

  The man’s cocky grin returned and he threw up his arms in mock joy.

  “Oh thank heavens, someone who’ll understand me! You’re just the one I’ve been looking for. I can’t seem to get the knack of this language. Too many Germanic touches, not nearly enough Latinate influence for an English speaker.”

  Felicia looked at him blankly, not sure whether a comment from her was expected. She knew it was sometimes a little difficult to understand the Icelandic people when they spoke English, but at least most of them knew how to communicate. He sounded as if she were a gift from God because she knew English well. She stayed silent, seeing from the corner of her eye that her two colleagues were disappointed the handsome tourist wasn’t theirs to drool over. She wondered what kept them from doing a job they were better equipped to do than her. Maybe he confused them as much as her?

  “Are you from America?” he asked. “You sound like it.”

  She frowned at him. Why was he getting personal? Knowing full well that the guest was king, she kept her annoyance out of her voice.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I’m from Canada,” he announced, and she reacted with a minimal nod of acknowledgement.

  He smiled at her, leaning against the desk. It was definitely getting hotter and hotter in here. Felicia was dimly aware of her dragon hanging onto each word the newcomer said. But why?

  “So, can I get you a room or maybe the lovely and luxurious suite?” she asked. “We have some free rooms with a stunning view of the river and the suspension bridge.”

  The man straightened up and grew serious.

  “Actually, I haven’t come here to book a room. I’m not looking for accommodation.” He leaned closer and peered into her eyes, lowering his voice a little. “I’m looking for a job.”

  Felicia gaped at him for a moment before collecting herself. What the hell? Did she have a note pinned to her forehead that said ‘job agent’ or something? Luckily all those years of working at the library had made her an expert in how to deal with all kinds of people.

  Politeness in person, she said, “I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place. We only offer accommodation, and of course meals in our Riverside Restaurant.”

  He made a dismissive gesture. “Sure, sure, I know that. The thing is, I really need a job right now, and with my rudimentary Icelandic, my chances are next to zero. So I came here.”

  She had a dismissive reply on the tip of her tongue, but swallowed it down. A voice in the back of her head whispered that she had been in exactly the same situation a few weeks ago. Hadn’t she singled the hotel out and taken the initiative too, and hadn’t it landed her a job? For a brief moment, she wondered whether she had come across as full of herself as the man.

  A nudge from the colleague to her left made her remember that she was supposed to react. Before she could answer, Ada said in halting but correct English, “I’m sorry, we can’t help you. Try putting up an advertisement in the newspaper. Or find a job in Reikjavík.”

  He shook his head, determination in his eyes and the way he squared his shoulders and his jaw. “I can’t,” he said to Felicia instead of Ada. “I need to stay right here.”

  Felicia shrugged. Well, that was his problem, not hers. He wasn’t a guest of the hotel, so this was none of her business. Why couldn’t he leave without wasting her time—and without exciti
ng her dragon?

  Instead of doing what would be logical, he surprised her again by thrusting one of his big hands at her. “I’m Kyle. Kyle Brown.”

  Automatically she shook his hand, and a jolt of heat coursed through her like a flash of lightning. What was that? She tried to pull her hand back, but his strong, tanned fingers gripped it firmly. Her body temperature soared, and the dragon inside her preened itself.

  Felicia blinked at the stranger in confusion. What was he doing to her?

  Ada broke the spell, probably determined not to be ignored again. The short, slim, blonde-haired woman was roughly ten years older than Felicia, but looked younger than her age. She offered the man a simpering smile and her hand. He let go of Felicia’s hand with obvious reluctance and shook Ada’s hand briefly, flashing his signature predator grin.

  “Gaman að kynnast þér. Pleased to meet you,” he said, and her colleague smiled even wider.

  The third receptionist had her hand shaken too, after which the stranger leaned against the counter, propped one arm on it and rested his chin on his hand in an oddly personal and relaxed gesture.

  “So, any idea whether I could work here? Have mercy on a vagabond like me. As a Canadian, I’m practically your neighbor.”

  Felicia narrowly kept herself from shaking her head, and swallowed down another acerbic remark. The cheek of the man!

  “This is a hotel. We can’t just hire someone walking through this door, knowing nothing about him and…”

  He interrupted her with another grin. “Oh, I’ll tell you anything about me you’d like to know!”

  She gritted her teeth.

  “Really, Mr. Brown, you purposely misunderstand me. I am sorry, but we cannot help you. All the best with finding a job,” she said, keeping her voice barely civil.

  He sobered up and stood straight, but a glimmer of humor stayed in his amber eyes.

  “Oh, don’t call me Mr. Brown, please, that makes me feel like my own father or grandfather.”

  When she didn’t react and her colleagues continued to stare at them curiously, he acknowledged the strangeness and seriousness of the situation. While she fought to keep her heat level down, she saw him pull a paper out of his back pocket and unfold it. He laid it on the desk and straightened it out before pushing it closer to her. It was a printed A4 sheet with the bold heading Curriculum Vitae.

  “Actually, I brought some information along. I’m not all unprepared, you see—and not unexperienced either.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, unwilling to study his CV because there was no sense in it.

  “I have worked in hotels before, all around the world. Among other things, I was a waiter and a bartender. Heck, I was part of the band playing for the guests’ entertainment once when I was in Spain,” he said.

  Felicia raised her eyebrows at him. This man was full of surprises. And he was getting on her nerves, although she had to admit his persistence was admirable.

  He pushed the sheet of paper closer and gave her a mock begging look that would have put a puppy dog to shame.

  “Come on, I’m putting my whole life in your hands here. Give me a chance. Showing this to your HR manager won’t hurt, will it? As far as I know, this hotel has just been renovated and modernized, so maybe he won’t mind hiring some new staff. I could try myself, but I’m afraid I never seem to leave the impression I want.”

  His self-deprecating grin and tone melted her defenses a little. The voice inside her that insisted his situation was similar to hers and she should thus help him grew louder. With an exasperated sigh she took the CV and scanned it. Looked like he had spent the past six years traveling all over the world and working in various hotels. If this was true, he might indeed have a slight chance of being hired

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she said, though not really graciously. “But I can’t make any promises, and you should really try somewhere else too.”

  He beamed at her, and the heat around them climbed up another notch.

  “Thanks so much! Takk fyrir! Wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

  Stuffing his hands back into his pockets, he stepped back from the desk.

  “I’ll drop in again tomorrow. If you manage to get me a job here, I’ll be forever indebted to you.”

  Before she could protest because he was still treating her so personally, he gave her a parting smile and strolled away and out, his gait as cocky as his behavior.

  He took most of the heat with him. But that couldn’t be. He couldn’t radiate heat the way she did it. She was different, she was special.

  Felicia shook herself a little before facing her colleagues’ curious questions in their halting but charming English with a thick Nordic accent. She felt oddly out of balance, and it made her angry, at the stranger and at herself.

  Chapter 3