Hot Zone

by Anne Marsh

  Problem was, she didn’t trust him.

  She kissed him. She climbed on him and rode the hell out of him, but she didn’t trust him. The sex was great, but she didn’t like losing control. He got that. From their first kiss to when she’d opened his door and come straight on over to his bed, she’d taken charge. She’d never really let go. He didn’t know how to fix that, because although he’d enjoyed the hell out of their night together, he wanted more than acrobatics and a mind-blowing orgasm that still had him seeing stars.

  He wanted her to feel something besides lust when she climbed into bed next to him.

  Chapter Five

  Friday night, Dade insisted on getting his date. Sarah Jo wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but somehow she found herself in town. His team had the night off as well, and they’d piled into Big Bear’s one bar, swapping war stories and bad jokes. The guys were smoky, tired—and exhilarated. An honest-to-God jukebox belted out country tunes, and energetic dancing was reflected in the big glass mirror behind the bar. She’d line-danced with several smoke jumpers and at least half the Big Bear Rogues, until she’d collapsed, flushed and laughing, at their table. And Dade hadn’t seemed to mind. He’d led her out for a turn himself, his strong hands guiding her down the line, then watched with a smile on his face as the other men twirled her enthusiastically.

  The fresh air that hit her when they left the bar sometime well after midnight was a welcome wake-up call. The gravel parking lot was still plenty full of cars and beat-up trucks, reflecting all the colors of the rainbow from the neon light-up beer signs in the bar’s window. She was tipsy, she realized. Again, something she didn’t do. She sucked in cool air, putting a hand on Dade’s arm to steady herself.

  “You okay?” His amused laughter floated over her head. “I got you.”

  She concentrated on just breathing for a moment, in and out. She wasn’t, she told herself, enjoying the feel of Dade’s rock-hard muscles beneath her hand. That wasn’t why she was standing there in the parking lot. She was getting her head on straight, clearing her mind.

  That was all.

  Unfortunately, no amount of fresh air or breathing time could undo the effect this man had on her. His concern was seductive. She’d stood on her own two feet for years. She knew that in no way was he suggesting that she couldn’t. He was simply offering to help. Letting her know that he had her back, no strings attached.

  What she couldn’t figure out was why.

  She had a feeling that the reason involved more than sex, and yet that was ridiculous. He barely knew her. She was twenty-five years old, and she’d had enough relationships to know that the secrets she was keeping were deal breakers. She’d screwed up badly, while Dade Johnson was a man who did everything the right way. He was a bona fide hero who went out to battle wildland fires every day of the summer.

  He wouldn’t really want a woman like her.

  “Dade,” she said, and looked up. He was watching her. Of course. She didn’t know what she wanted to say, what she would have said, because her past picked that moment to step out from between two parked trucks.

  Thad Hill looked every bit as determined and confident as she remembered him being. He also looked fairly pissed. He stepped forward and blocked their path. No end run around him, even if she’d had somewhere to run. She’d all but gone to the ends of the earth, and he couldn’t let her go?

  “Thad.” Her lips felt impossibly dry, sticking to her teeth as she got his name out.

  “Sarah Jo.” His hands moved to his hips and the black utility belt there. For a heart-stopping moment, his fingers brushed over the gun in its holster before he reached for the cuffs. The soft clink as he pulled them free was almost lost in the sounds of doors slamming and men calling good-byes. “You’re under arrest.”

  Thad took another step forward, but, to her surprise, Dade inserted himself between her and the deputy. He moved quickly for a big man, fast and silent. As the two men locked eyes in a silent stare-down, she became aware of the other men in the parking lot closing in.

  She’d dreaded this moment for so long, it was almost anticlimactic. Thad had won. There was nowhere left to run. It was almost a relief to know that the worst had happened. He’d put her in the back of his car, and, if she was lucky, he’d settle for simply running her in to the station. She didn’t want to think about the worst-case scenario.

  “You got a warrant for that arrest?” Dade growled.

  Someone else—Rio Donovan, a smoke jumper from Strong—stepped up next to Dade. She’d danced with Rio earlier, and he’d laughed and flirted outrageously. Now he looked lethally mean. The two men formed an impressive wall of shoulders, four hundred pounds of pure muscle standing between her and Thad. “What are the charges?” Rio added his own question, the note of skepticism in his voice overt.

  “Arson. And theft.” Thad took another step forward. Maybe he expected Dade and Rio to back down or pull a Red Sea and open up a passage straight to her. She blinked. Hard. She was supposed to be handling this. Instead, they were handling Thad for her. He wasn’t their problem, though. She could do whatever she had to do.

  “Dade …” She put a hand on his back. Even through the cotton T-shirt, she could feel the heat of him. The muscles in his back flexed as he crossed his arms, sending Thad one of those silent male messages. Probably telegraphing mine. There was silence for a minute as Thad digested their opposition to his plans for her.

  “You want to go with him?” Dade asked the question without turning his head.

  “Not particularly,” she said, “but—”

  “You got a warrant?” He addressed Thad again.

  Thad blustered. “On me? No. But Sarah Jo’s got some answering to do. I’m running her in.”

  “No.” Dade didn’t waste words.

  “You stopping me?” This time, Thad’s hand went to the gun. He kept the piece holstered, but the threat was unmistakable. The world went icy cold, her vision narrowing to a cold, dark tunnel that drilled in on the source of her unhappiness. Thad. She wasn’t supposed to let him scare her like this, but he was unmistakably in charge. He had a gun, for God’s sake. What was she supposed to do?

  “You produce a warrant, you can take Sarah Jo with you. Until then, I figure she decides when she goes and when she stays.”

  Around her, the other hotshots and jumpers nodded, all on the same page as Dade. Thad cursed, clearly weighing the odds of shooting Dade and getting away with it. Fortunately, he was a coward. She knew that now. His hand slid away from the gun.

  “I’ll get the warrant,” he threatened. “I’ll be back. Don’t run, Sarah Jo.” His eyes bored into hers. “Don’t make me chase you again.”

  She flipped him a jaunty, two-fingered salute that belied her shaking insides. Someone laughed and Thad got back into his car, slamming the door. Seconds later, the car peeled out of the parking lot, spitting gravel.

  Mission accomplished, the other men slowly drifted away, truck doors slamming.

  “You ready to head on back to camp?” Dade kept his gaze steady on hers.

  She sucked in one breath. Two. “You’re taking my word over his?”

  “Of course.” He turned and headed toward his truck. When he opened the door for her, she went, getting a foot on the running board.

  “You still don’t want to know?” She concentrated on pulling herself into the truck without landing on her face.

  “Not a question of my not wanting to know. When you’re ready to tell, you’ll share. If not, then no worries. I know how to wait. He’s a nasty son-of-a-bitch, though. I’d feel better if I knew whatever you could tell me.”

  “He is. Nasty.” She rubbed her arms.

  “Figured.” Striding around the truck, he got in. He drove with the same easy confidence he did everything.

  “We dated,” she blurted out as he slipped the key into the ignition.

  “Doesn’t look like you got a happily-ever-after out of that,” he observed. The motor roared to lif
e, and he guided the truck effortlessly out of the parking lot and onto the highway.

  “Yeah. You could say that.” She wanted to lean against Dade, to hold on real tight, but this needed to be his call. She’d understand if he’d lost patience with her, because nothing about this relationship would be easy.

  “There more to it than that?”

  “Probably.” Absolutely.

  “He going to be trouble?”

  “He’ll be back.”

  He nodded slowly. “I like trouble just fine.” A slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “No worries there, honey.” His dark eyes didn’t leave the road, but she knew he was aware of her, of how her fingers were picking nervously at the seat belt and how she couldn’t stop the betraying gesture. “Now would be a good time to tell me what happened.”

  He was right, of course, but that didn’t make the confession any easier.

  “Let’s just say that Thad and I have a past,” she suggested.

  Dade shook his head slowly. “I’m going to need details. This isn’t a game of connect-the-dots where you throw out a few hints and I fill in the lines. Tell me what kind of trouble you’re in.”

  “You can’t help,” she challenged.

  “Try me.” He glanced over at her. “Give me a chance, Sarah Jo.”

  Could she take that chance? She hated the fear she felt about what Thad might do to her, but that wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the uncertainty. Thad Hill had decided to make her life his own personal playground, popping in and out with devastating effect. He wouldn’t just leave her alone. Somehow, she had to defuse the threat he posed, and she had no idea where to start. Running hadn’t worked, and she didn’t have much experience with standing her ground, did she?

  Dade Johnson, on the other hand, knew everything about holding his line. He was an expert on digging and refusing to be pushed back. One inch at a time, he took back what the fire had claimed, day in and day out, summer after summer.

  “Four months ago,” she started. Dade didn’t say anything. “I was living in Auburn, working as an in-home caregiver. There was a fire in her home.”

  Thank God, Mrs. Joan hadn’t been home. No, she’d gone off on the bus to Bunco night like she always did on Thursday evenings. At least Thad had waited until the elderly woman was clear. Sarah Jo wasn’t supposed to be there, either, but she’d forgotten her favorite sweater and swung back to get it. Just in time to catch the rat-thieving bastard pulling away from the curb. In hindsight, she realized that he’d popped the batteries in the smoke detectors during that visit, cracked a gas main, and set the microwave to go off. She’d got in, got out, too excited about her evening to notice the whiff of gas.

  Stupid.

  The timer went ding and Mrs. Joan’s home blew up, taking most of her possessions with it. The fingers, of course, had pointed Sarah Jo’s way from the get-go. She was the last one in the house, and no one listened when she mentioned seeing Thad’s car pulling away. He was a cop, just out and about doing his job. She got painted as the disgruntled girlfriend, because he immediately claimed they’d been having problems, saying she’d wanted a ring and commitment but he’d been unsure.

  “The fire was suspicious?” he asked, because despite what he’d said, he could connect the dots without her help.

  “Yeah.” She hesitated. “I worked there, as a caregiver, and I was the last person in the house before the fire started.”

  “Was the owner okay?”

  “Yeah. She’d gone to play Bunco over at the senior center. She always did, like clockwork, every Thursday evening.”

  “Fires happen. What made this one your problem?”

  She thought about the aftermath. “Because some diamond jewelry was missing, and the police report suggested someone had turned on the gas and then used the microwave to blow the place sky high.”

  God, she was just grateful that the house was somewhat isolated from its neighbors. In a more crowded subdivision, there could have been collateral damage.

  “I told the police that I saw Thad that night,” she admitted. “I ran back for a sweater I’d forgotten, and I saw him pulling away from the curb.”

  Dade didn’t interrupt, not once. And he was really listening, she realized. He hadn’t dismissed her explanation. Yet. That focus was damned sexy, too. He wasn’t handsome in a polished GQ kind of way. He was all rough, hard angles, from the strong line of his jaw to the small scars and burn marks scattered over his forearms and throat. He wasn’t afraid to put his body on the line. If that wasn’t heroic, she didn’t know what was.

  “Coincidences happen,” he suggested reluctantly when she fell silent. “Hell, I don’t like the man, Sarah Jo. He’s a bully and he’s clearly jonesing for some revenge, but that doesn’t make him an arsonist. You got some proof that we can use?”

  “No.” She hesitated. “It doesn’t. I confronted him.”

  Dade swore.

  “And he threatened me,” she continued. “No matter what I thought I knew, he said, no one would believe me. After all, he was the local deputy and I was a recent arrival. One year doesn’t count for much when most everyone had known Thad since he was a baby. I was just the newbie on the block, fresh from San Francisco with my degree in hand and willing to do anything to earn a living because I had bills to pay and college wasn’t cheap.”

  “When he comes back,” Dade said, and she noted his use of when, “that will make holding him off harder, if it’s his word against yours. Have you considered lawyering up?”

  “That takes money.” Dade opened his mouth, closed it when she shook her head, and then she continued, “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

  He laughed. “Honey, you’re already standing midstream. A bridge might be a blessing.”

  “I’ll handle this.”

  “Sure.” He drove for a bit, letting the silence soak into the truck’s cab. “You know that if you need help, all you got to do is ask.”

  “Thanks,” she said awkwardly. This was her business, though, and not his.

  “Uh-huh.” He shook his head, and the truck began the familiar ascent to the fire camp. “Well, you change your mind, you know where to find me, okay? There’s no expiration date on that offer.”

  Chapter Six

  Sarah Jo heard Dade humming before she saw him. Okay, so she saw his feet and not the entire man. The fire camp boasted a block of plumbed showers, which practically put the camp in luxury territory. Running water—particularly hot water—wasn’t optional in her book. Which was yet another reason she was clearly a city kind of girl. The showers were very utilitarian, all get-in and get-out, which made it easy to spot Dade. He’d tossed his towel over the shower rod and left his clothes neatly folded on a nearby lawn chair.

  All the evidence pointed to Dade being naked, which was a mental image she particularly enjoyed. He had a spectacular body, undoubtedly from all that firefighting he did. For just a minute, she let herself imagine grabbing that neat stack and running. He’d laugh, she knew it. And then he’d get even.

  She had a feeling that Dade Johnson’s brand of revenge might be sweet indeed.

  She was out of her shorts and tank top in under two minutes, and a quick shimmy took care of her panties as well. The summer heat made a bra pure torture, so she’d skipped it. It was thunderstorm weather, she’d been warned, and each breath she took was sticky and heavy. There’d be lightning later, white bolts that sliced down from the sky and struck the trees. The entire camp would be searching for smokes where the lightning’s strike had smoldered long enough to flare up into flames.

  She was working on some lightning of her own.

  Pulling back the shower curtain far enough to slip through, she stepped into the shower. Dade was soaping up, back to the door, and for just a minute she stood there and admired the view. Soap and water slicked the powerful muscles of his shoulders as he ducked his head under the spray.

  Showtime.

  “You got room for one more?”

>   She’d barely got the words out, before he turned in a smooth, powerful move that had her up against the wall, his arm over her throat. Dade would never hurt her, but this rougher side of him was damned sexy. He could and would take care of himself in a fight or a tight spot, and she liked that. Unfortunately, she seemed to like everything about him.

  He blinked down at her, stunned. So, clearly, he hadn’t expected her to join him. That was okay. She liked keeping him off balance.

  “Hell.” He didn’t sound upset, just taken aback.

  “Surprise?” she offered. His ninja warrior move had her breasts pressed against his chest. When she exhaled, her nipples pressed against the rough dusting of hair on his forearms and his eyes darkened.

  He didn’t move away, though, and that was a good sign.

  “Did I miss the memo about water conservation?” A smile tugged at his lips.

  “Conservation is very important,” she agreed, tilting her head back to see his face better. When she drew a leg up his, part of him definitely didn’t mind the surprise, because he was now sporting one very impressive erection. He was hot and slick, so she angled herself against him for an even better fit.

  “Yeah.” He whipped his arm away from her throat, as if he’d only just realized he was on her like a caveman, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he pressed closer, his arms on either side of her head. “You in the mood for a shower or something?”

  “Or something,” she agreed.

  When he smiled, he got this little crinkle around the edges of his eyes. Probably from the sun—or from laughter. She liked that about him. He enjoyed life. The same way he’d enjoyed her body. Wholeheartedly, rolling with whatever punches life tossed him. Too bad she couldn’t be more like that.

  She could enjoy him, though.

  “You planning on starting something right here in the shower?”

  Sometimes the doing was even better than the planning. She pressed her mouth against the firm line of his jaw, loving the rasp of his ten-o’clock shadow against her lips. She gave a little hum of pleasure, running her fingers over his skin.