Blaze (A Minxes of Romance anthology)

by Romy Sommer

  “May I help you?” The clipped accent was too perfect to be natural. Like her teeth and hair.

  “My name is Samantha Redfern and I’d like to see Ryan Morgan.”

  “You and everyone else, honey. You don’t have an appointment?”

  “No I don’t.” She should have called. Perhaps she should have checked into her hotel, had a shower and changed first. Or perhaps she shouldn’t have come at all. “Will you just give him something from me?”

  “No CDs, no DVDs, no bribes.” The secretary sounded so bored, Sam could only assume this happened every day.

  She managed a smile. “No singing, I promise.” She handed over the small, neat package, wrapped in layers of plain white tissue paper.

  The secretary barely gave it a glance before she set it on the edge of her desk. “You want to leave a business card with it?” she asked begrudgingly.

  “He’ll know who I am when he sees it.” Assuming he didn’t go around picking up metal sculptors every day. Assuming he didn’t use the same lines he’d used on her on countless other women. Her heart pulled tight in her chest. This had been a mistake. She didn’t really want to know.

  If she’d never taken the risk, if she’d stayed safely at home in Coombethwaite, she’d never have to find out. Her heart wouldn’t now be pounding, her palms wouldn’t now be sweaty, and she would never have to face the possibility that he hadn’t meant what he said and that he’d already forgotten her in the glitz and glamour of the big city.

  But if she’d stayed home, she’d only have proved him right. She would have known that at heart she was a coward, too afraid to take anything but the most calculated risks. Like her father in more ways than one.

  Sam took a deep breath and lifted her chin. “Please tell Ryan I’m staying at the Marriott until tomorrow morning.”

  She shouldered her overnight bag and turned to leave just as the door to the inner sanctum swung open.

  “Sam?”

  Her breath faltered.

  He wore jeans and a shirt, just as he had the first day they’d met. This shirt was dark grey, gun metal grey, the colour of his eyes. She swallowed, and her breathing kick-started again. “Hi, Ryan.”

  “She brought you something,” the secretary interjected, as if reminding them of her presence.

  Ryan didn’t even look in his secretary’s direction. “What did you bring me?”

  Me. If you’ll have me. Sam nodded at the white package on the desk. Ryan crossed the room in a few easy strides and unwrapped the layers of tissue paper. He lifted the disk from the packaging and held it up.

  “What is it?” The secretary no longer sounded bored.

  “It’s a shooting star.” Ryan’s eyes met Sam’s.

  “It’s very rare. It’s made from a real shooting star. Well, from a piece of meteorite.”

  Ryan smiled, and a slow burn ignited in the pit of her stomach. “Marilyn, please clear my diary for the rest of the day.”

  The secretary opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. “Yes, Mr Morgan.”

  Sam’s smile widened. Clearly that didn’t happen every day.

  Ryan held out a hand, and she took it, lacing her fingers through his. He gave a gentle tug and led her into his office, closing the door behind them. She got a brief impression of wide skyline and grey sky before he wrapped his arms around her, hands sliding down to hook in the back pockets of her jeans as he pulled her closer.

  “So you made it all the way to the Big Smoke.”

  “I nearly turned back at least three times.”

  “You should have had more faith in yourself. I knew you could do it.” His smile couldn’t get any bigger. “You just needed to trust the fire inside.”

  About the author:

  Romy Sommer lives in sunny South Africa where she works in the not-as-glamorous-as-you-think world of television advertising. When she isn't working or being mom to two young daughters, she can be found with her nose in a book. She writes flirty contemporaries, as well as more sensual historical novellas under the name Rae Summers.

  Her latest book, An Innocent Abroad by Rae Summers, is available now.

  A Smouldering Attraction

  Suzanna Ross

  Kindle Edition. Copyright © 2012 Suzanna Ross

  All rights reserved. No part of this e-book may be reproduced in any form other than that in which it was purchased and without the written permission of the author.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  http://suzanne-sj.blogspot.com/

  Chapter One

  Shelley Fox yawned as she unlocked her front door. It had been a tough night and she was tired through to her bones. Even her hair was weary. She couldn't wait to get into the shower and then into her comfy bed.

  But first, a lovely cup of tea. She'd earned it. There had been four admissions onto her ward last night. Four children whose worried parents had, quite understandably, demanded answers from a reduced and overworked staff.

  Food poisoning originating at the local nursery school had been suspected, but it would be a while before tests could confirm or deny that.

  As she turned on the tap and filled the kettle, she naturally looked through the window and her gaze wandered over the picture-perfect cottage garden. It all looked especially splendid in the warm, morning sunshine. Seemed like it was going to be another hot day. When she’d had a couple of hours’ sleep, she planned to sit outside with a book.

  She hadn’t thought so at the time, but she’d been lucky to have a reason to move out to Coombethwaite. And, even if it was a good distance from the hospital, she was happy she’d found this place.

  Although it did need a lot of work on the inside. Number one on her list was decorating her bedroom—which she planned to do during the week off she had booked for later in the month.

  After that, she’d look into extending the tiny kitchen, as some of her neighbours had done in their own cottages.

  Distracted by something out of the corner of her eye, she looked towards her next door neighbour’s garden. Something wasn't right. There were large clouds of smoke billowing over the hedge.

  Odd. Her neighbour had entertained a niece and nephew-in-law to a barbecue yesterday—but this was more than dying charcoal embers.

  “Oww.” She jumped back from the sink as the kettle overflowed and cold water splashed over her top. She quickly turned the tap off, put the kettle down on the draining board and opened the back door.

  “Hello?” she called. “Emily—are you there? Is everything okay?”

  “Shelley, dear, the most awful thing's happened...”

  Shelley had never heard her neighbour so upset. As a retired primary school teacher, Emily Croft had always been the epitome of calm and serenity.

  “Hang on; I'm going to squeeze through the hedge.”

  Emily and the previous occupants of Shelley’s cottage had been close friends and a narrow gap had been cut in the hedge so they could visit each other. The gap was overgrown now, but still thinner than the rest of the barrier—although it didn’t seem like it as Shelley forced herself through the twigs and leaves. It was a relief to come out the other side. But that feeling was short-lived.

  “What on earth?”

  “It's the compost bin, dear. I went to put in the cold ashes from yesterday's barbecue and whoosh, this is the result.”

  “Oh dear. Have you phoned the fire brigade?” Shelley asked as she went for the hose pipe. Not that the puny jet of water made much difference, but it might stop the flames from taking hold of the rest of the garden.

  “I should have put that in the shed. There's a ho
sepipe ban,” Mrs Croft pointed out.

  “So there is. But I think this is classed as an emergency. Please, phone 999.”

  “Yes, of course, dear. I’ll go and do it now.” She turned towards the house.

  With a sigh, Shelley thrust the hose at her. “Keep it pointed towards the fire,” she said as she fished her mobile from her pocket.

  They were still trying to fight off the flames when the team of retained firemen arrived. If circumstances had been different, Shelley might have enjoyed the sight of Coombethwaite's finest parading through the garden in uniform.

  But men, in uniform or otherwise, were the last thing on her mind these days. Besides, Mrs Croft was visibly distressed now and the fire was raging as fiercely as ever. She could feel the heat on her face and the flames were lapping at the cherry tree that stood far too near the compost bin.

  There was shouting, there was action. These guys knew what they were doing. And, very soon, all there was to show for the drama was a charred corner of the garden and a teary Emily Croft.

  Shelley gave her a quick hug and handed her a clean tissue from her pocket. “All over.”

  “I just feel so silly.”

  “It was an accident,” one of the burly figures spoke. “It happens more often than you’d think.”

  “I’m sorry to have been such a nuisance.”

  He smiled reassuringly. “You weren’t a nuisance. You did the right thing calling us.”

  Emily dabbed at her eyes with the tissue. “You’re a good boy, Harrison.”

  Despite being so tired she could have fallen asleep on the spot, Shelley smiled. She guessed Harrison was an ex-pupil—this wasn’t the first time she’d heard Emily speaking to former pupils as though they were still five years old.

  But it never seemed so funny before—this man was in full fire fighting regalia and stood at least six-four.

  She turned amused eyes towards him—and, despite everything, her heart soared when he caught her gaze and smiled.

  “I try,” he said, still smiling at Shelley.

  And, with her eyes firmly fixed on Harrison’s, Shelley felt rather than saw Emily Croft’s interested look.

  Chapter Two

  Harrison had sworn off women. It was a long story and one he didn’t like to visit often—but when you’d been walked over, humiliated even, in front of all your friends, family and work colleagues, it didn’t do to risk a repetition.

  As he looked at Shelley now, though, the thought occurred that maybe some things were worth the risk.

  She really was extraordinarily pretty—even with her dark hair falling untidily out its severe bun and dark circles around her green eyes. Even the smudge of soot on her nose added to the overall picture.

  “I don't know how it happened,” Mrs Croft was telling him now. “The barbecue was stone cold—I promise it was. I even put my hand on it to check. And now I’ve disturbed everyone—called the fire engine out and not to mention bothering Shelley. And Shelley, dear, you must be exhausted. You’re on night shift, aren’t you?”

  “Don’t worry about that.” Shelley smiled kindly. “Thank goodness I was here. I wouldn’t like to think of you dealing with this on your own.” She turned large green eyes towards Harrison. “If the barbecue was cold, what do you think might have happened?”

  He pulled his gloves off and shoved them into a pocket of his coat. “When materials compost they can reach very high temperatures, they've even been known to combust spontaneously when there's been a prolonged dry spell like we've had recently.”

  “So maybe it wasn't anything Emily did?” There was a hopeful look in her eye. He liked that. Even without Emily Croft’s confirmation of the fact, it was pretty obvious from the weary look on her face that she was freshly arrived from night shift. Yet she still cared enough to try to comfort her obviously distressed elderly neighbour.

  He smiled, but he couldn't lie to her—in all probability there might have been a spark of something in amongst the ash. But he also didn't want to cause Emily Croft any more upset than she’d already suffered. “Maybe not. But it might be an idea not to empty the barbecue out onto the compost in future, just in case.”

  Emily nodded. “I’ll make sure I don’t. Thank you so much, Harrison—and thank Nick and Ben and the others for me, too.”

  Shelley patted her neighbour’s arm. “Why don’t you come over to mine for a bit? You’ve had a nasty shock and I was about to put the kettle on when I noticed the smoke. But we’ll need to squeeze through the hedge—the front door’s locked and I didn’t bring my key.”

  Emily nodded. “Thank you, I’d like that. But just for a minute or two. You need your rest.”

  He watched in disbelief as the two women headed for the hedge. “Where are you going?”

  “This is the way I came in,” Shelley called over her shoulder. “Goodbye. And thanks.” And then she pushed her way through.

  He realised then the reason her hair looked like she’d been dragged through a hedge was because she had been.

  #

  Harrison found he couldn’t focus. He had a set of drawings to finish for a client. His concentration would normally have been absolute. But, today, all he could think of was a pair of large green eyes.

  He lasted a couple of hours before grabbing the keys to his Land Rover and heading out the door.

  He lived on the edge of Coombethwaite—only two minutes from the fire station in a home he’d designed for himself. A home that, on the side that looked out over the lake, was entirely glass and allowed the breathtaking scenery to be a part of his everyday life.

  Really, he should be walking the short distance, but he was on duty and if his pager went off, he wouldn’t be allowed the luxury of a leisurely walk—or even a run. He’d need the Land Rover.

  He reached the row of cottages where only hours ago he’d pulled up in a large red truck. And hesitated for only a minute before knocking.

  Mrs Croft opened the door within minutes and smiled when she saw him. “Harrison, what a lovely surprise.”

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he told her. “You seemed pretty shaken up this morning.”

  “I’m fine.” She smiled bravely. “Why don’t you come in? It would be nice to have a chat and catch up on all your gossip.”

  He followed her into the kitchen and accepted the cool homemade lemonade she offered. “Thanks.” The afternoon was warm and the drink pleasantly cold.

  “Shelley looked after me so well this morning,” she said as she sat beside him at the table with her own drink. “Such a nice girl, you know.”

  “I gathered.”

  “She’s single.” Emily Croft raised an eyebrow.

  Although it was an answer to a question he’d been burning to ask, it wouldn’t do to show interest. “And what’s her marital status to do with me?”

  “One of these days, Harrison Reid, you’ll let go of that giant chip on your shoulder and realise what’s good for you.”

  “I hope you’re not trying to set me up with your neighbour. Because you know what happened the last time someone introduced me to a woman who was supposed to be perfect for me.”

  He tried not to wince. His fellow fire fighters had thought they were doing him a favour. How were they supposed to know the mystery siren newly arrived in the village would declare undying love for him the same day she accepted a proposal of marriage from her city boyfriend?

  Mrs Croft laughed softly. “Harrison, how could you think such a thing? Setting you up with Shelley was the last thing on my mind.”

  Harrison didn’t believe her for an instant, but he grinned anyway. “Good.”

  “But Shelley was telling me this morning that she’s thinking of extending her kitchen. I told her I knew a good architect...”

  Harrison’s grin turned into a laugh.

  “She’s sitting in her garden—I saw her when I was shaking my duster from the upstairs window right before you arrived. Why don’t you go and have a word? It will be
a nice little job for you.”

  Chapter Three

  It was a hot day and getting hotter. Shelley shifted sleepily on her sun lounger—even though she was in the shade and covered head to toe in factor 50, she knew the sensible thing to do would be to go inside until later.

  Her book was slipping from her fingers, her eyes closing, she knew she should move, but she was so comfy out here in the sun and she'd had very little sleep...

  “Hey,” a man's deep voice reverberated around her garden and, startled, she sat up and pushed her sunglasses into her hair.

  A head poked through the thin spot in the hedge. A dark-haired head with grey eyes and the sort of perfect bone structure that made her want to weep.

  “Harrison?” She wasn't sure—she'd only seen him once after all and a fireman's uniform disguised a lot. As did a nurse's scrubs. Her face flushed as she realised just how exposed she was here in the garden wearing only a tiny black bikini.

  He pushed his large frame through the hedge and stood looming over her. Disturbingly, his black tee-shirt left his arms bare and his denim jeans drew far too much attention to his powerful thighs. She looked away, resisting the urge to run and hide.

  “Hello.” His teeth flashed white in his tanned face and his laser-sharp eyes searched her face with undisguised interest. “Am I disturbing you?”

  “Not really, I’m only enjoying the sunshine—need the vitamin D.” She smiled to cover her embarrassment, knowing she was babbling.

  “I was here to make sure Mrs Croft was okay—after earlier.”

  She nodded.

  “She's a friend of my gran's, as well as my old primary school teacher. I've known her all my life.”

  “Which explains why she talks to you like you're a five-year-old?”