Alex hit the ball so hard it shot toward the front wall like a bullet, ricocheted off the low left corner, fired back and struck his brother in the shoulder.
Richard tossed his racquet down and rubbed where he’d been hit. “Damn it, Alex.”
Wearily Alex leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor. Sweat poured from him, soaking his shirt. His limbs were shaky. His eyes closed, his knees up, he dangled the racquet between his legs. “I’m sorry.”
After a moment, Richard dropped down beside him. “This has to stop. For two weeks you’ve been playing and working like a maniac. You’ve lost weight and you look like hell.”
Head down, Alex didn’t respond.
“You can’t go on like this.”
“Hell, Richard. What do you suggest I do?”
“Call her. Work this out.”
That was her suggestion. He hadn’t even considered it. And he wouldn’t now. Alex banged his racquet on the wooden floor and the crack echoed through the enclosed court. “Absolutely not.”
“Is this any better?”
“No, but I’m banking it will be.” He looked at his brother. “Pain now for peace of mind later.”
And Alex believed his words. A surgeon’s quick, precise slice, which would heal cleanly, was preferable to opening an old wound over and over.
“If you get through this torture.”
“I’m going away,” he told Richard.
“Where?”
“To Saint Lucia.”
“The Caribbean at the end of summer’s hot.”
“I like hot weather.”
Richard stared at him. “You stayed around for me, didn’t you?”
After a moment, Alex nodded. Richard’s hearing had been last week. The combination of a good lawyer, documents from the detox clinic and Richard’s coming forward of his own will had gotten him probation and community service for six months. He also attended drug-addiction meetings several times a week. Richard was back on track.
Now, Alex’s life had derailed big-time. He was barely functioning at work. He’d refused to go to the gym or run, since the activities conjured up too many associations with Francesca, but he’d kept his fitness up with rabid games of racquetball with Richard.
The sport hadn’t helped. He still thought about her every single day. Still dreamed about her at night—some dreams graphically erotic, some sweet and tender. Both woke him in a cold sweat.
“Maybe the trip will help,” Richard said.
“Maybe.” But Alex doubted it. He simply didn’t know what else to do.
oOo
As soon as Francesca entered Diana’s Designs, she was swamped with memories of the last time she’d been here. To buy something for her first date with Alex. She’d been so excited, so optimistic. She’d been a fool.
“May I…Oh, Francey.”
Great, just what she needed. Miss America. “Elise. Is my mother here?”
Elise stared at her for a minute. Something odd flickered in her stepsister’s eyes. “No, she went to lunch with your father.”
Francey shook her head. Her mother and father were dating. How ironic. “Fine. Tell her I stopped by.” She turned to go.
“Francey?”
She stopped with her back toward Elise then pivoted. Her stepsister had come around the desk, the soft knit of a beige summer dress shimmering around her. For the first time, a hint of uncertainty shadowed the younger woman’s face. “I wanted to tell you something.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “I watched the television coverage of the fire at ChemLabs.”
Do you have any idea what it was like to sit in my office and watch you walk into a burning building?
Elise gave her a tentative smile. “I was awestruck seeing you fight that fire. You’re so brave. I would have fainted on the spot.”
Oddly, Francey felt tears sting her eyelids.
“I, um, just wanted you to know that.” Elise took a deep breath. “And also to tell you that nothing ever happened between me and Alex.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Francey said dejectedly.
“Yes, I heard.” Elise stepped closer. “If I had a chance with him—which I don’t—I’d do anything to keep him.”
Francey swallowed hard. “He wants too much.”
“Does he?” After a moment’s hesitation, Elise went on. “Your mother…she’s always had this inner sadness about her.” Elise gave her a meaningful look. “Until recently.”
Francey thought of her father’s long-standing restlessness, until he started seeing Diana again. Still, she shook her head. “There’s nothing I can do.”
Elise shrugged. “I just thought I’d tell you.”
“Thanks.” Francey turned away. Needy and confused, she stopped when she reached the door; after a moment she turned back. “Anybody else working here today?”
“Yes, another employee is in the back. Why?”
“I thought you might want to go to lunch with me. You know, and talk about girl stuff.”
A smile beamed from Elise’s face. “I’d love that.” She crossed her arms and studied Francey. “Somewhere inside me, I think I’ve always wanted that. Let me get my purse.”
oOo
The Sandals Resort in Saint Lucia was ten sprawling acres of lush greenery. Tropical shrubbery and palm trees dotted the golf course. The smell of sea water permeated the air. Alex lifted his club and swung for a drive worthy of the PGA. The ball sailed more than two hundred yards. Thirty-six holes a day had honed his game. He played the rest of the course with intensity—and a gloom he’d brought with him to the Caribbean. Even the place reminded him of her.
Someday, I’m going to take you to the Caribbean, he told her the afternoon she’d lost the elderly woman in the fire. He remembered thinking, Maybe on our honeymoon. Maybe we’ll even get married down there. He swore vilely at the memory.
After leaving his clubs with his caddy, he stopped at an outdoor bar for a drink. Gazebos shielded the area from the hot sun and huge whirling fans hung from the wooden rafters. A semi-cool breeze off the water made the temperature comfortable. From the bleached wood bar, patrons could look out over a sea so blue it resembled a child’s Play-Doh. When he wasn’t golfing, Alex had spent time scuba diving, snorkeling and kayaking.
“How’d ya do today, handsome?” The deeply tanned bartender had been sending out signals for the four days he’d been vacationing. So far, he’d ignored them.
“I hit under eighty finally.”
Uninvited, she tested his biceps. “You’re in great shape.”
A flash of Francesca, watching him at Chelsea’s gym came to him. She’d reached out and tweaked his arm. Hey you’ll get there.
“Want the usual?”
He nodded.
As the bartender—Millie, he thought her name was–fixed him a gin and tonic, he studied her. She had a centerfold’s body. Blond curls rippled down her back.
And she did nothing for him whatsoever. He swore again under his breath and stared out at a grainy sand dune a hundred yards away, where seagulls fluttered and cooed.
“Hey, why the scowl?” Millie placed a tall, cool drink in front of him. “Nobody scowls in Saint Lucia.”
Alex pasted on a fake smile.
It was all the encouragement she needed. She leaned over the bar and scraped long, vampire-red nails on his bare arm. “I’m off in two hours. I could make you smile the rest of the night.”
He studied her. She was the opposite of Francesca in every way. Maybe she was what he needed. After all, that’s why he’d come to Saint Lucia—to forget the woman he loved.
At midnight, in his room, as he unbuttoned his shirt and she started to pull the slinky silk top over her head, he stilled her movements. “I’m sorry, Millie. I can’t. It was a nice dinner, and you were terrific company. But I can’t do this.”
Not now, he thought as he closed the door behind the bartender. But someday.
oOo
“I’m not going!” Francesca plunked down on a plush chair to underscore her objection.
“Yes,” Chelsea said implacably, “you are.”
“Alex will be there.”
“Why? He wasn’t there in past years.”
“Because of the warehouse fire. Templeton Industries is contributing megabucks to the Firefighter’s Ball.”
“If you don’t go, I’m not going.” Beth held up a shiny green dress that highlighted her hazel eyes and auburn hair. The women shared a huge fitting room—with wall-to-wall mirrors—in one of Rockford’s snazziest boutiques.
Chelsea spun around, soft folds of black crepe swirling at her ankles. “You guys, we promised.”
“That pact years ago was stupid,” Francey told Chelsea.
Smugly, Beth arched a brow at her in the mirror. “I’ve been telling you that all along.”
Francey stared at her friends. When she and Chelsea had graduated from the academy, the three of them had promised each other—after one too many drinks—that they’d go to the annual Firefighter’s Ball dressed to the nines. If she remembered correctly, it had something to do with asserting their femininity.
“Oh, all right.” Francey gave in grudgingly.
Chelsea and Beth exchanged looks.
“I know this is a conspiracy to get me to go out,” she said, flinging off her jeans and sweatshirt. She took the gold silk dress, accented with Cleopatra inspired beads—whatever the hell they were—from Chelsea and whipped the thing over her head. The material slithered down her hips to the floor. The front scooped low, with a gold band across the bodice that circled to become straps; the side slit was indecent. She turned in front of the mirror. Hell, the dress was backless.
Beth’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God, you’ll be beating them off with a stick.”
That outfit ought to be illegal. I’d better go get a stick or something. I’ll be beating off the guys at L’Auberge.
Francey choked back a sob.
“France? You okay?” Beth asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
Quietly Chelsea came in close and put her hands on Francey’s shoulders. “No, you’re not. You’re losing weight, and it’s obvious you haven’t been sleeping. If you aren’t going to fight for him, you’ve got to move on, kiddo.”
Torn, Francey met Chelsea’s gaze in the mirror. “The only concession he wants I can’t give him.”
Beth looked up from fastening the strappy sandals she’d slipped into. “Then find somebody else. He has no right asking you to give up your job.”
Chelsea sighed. “Men in love do stupid things.”
“Men, period, do stupid things,” Beth said absently.
Francey smiled. The familiar repartee was comforting. “All right! I’ll buy the dress.”
“Great.” Chelsea smiled impishly. “Now we have to get you a date.”
oOo
A week after he returned from Saint Lucia, at eleven o’clock at night, Alex stood at his office window overlooking the Rockford skyline. The city lights twinkled, and a few lonely cars meandered along the streets. Suddenly a siren spilt the air, and he tensed. It whined mercilessly as a fire truck came into sight. From where he stood, Alex couldn’t tell if it was a Quint, an engine or a ladder truck. Six months ago he wouldn’t have known—or cared about—the difference.
He swallowed hard. Was she on tonight?
Of all that he’d endured the past three weeks, wondering if she was safe had been the worst torture. He didn’t watch the news or read the paper because he didn’t want to know what she’d been involved in. He wondered if, years from now, he’d think of her and still worry.
No, she’ll belong to another man then.
Alex pounded his fist on the window frame, sending pain splintering up his arm. Fine, let some other jerk worry about her. Coddle her when she comes home exhausted and sore. Put her to sleep when she’s so wired she can’t settle down.
The images of how he’d taken care of her socked him in the gut. He’d given all that up because he couldn’t stand the stress.
He saw his face reflected in the window. And for the first time he asked himself, When did you become such a coward?
oOo
Night watch was the loneliest time in the shift. At one, the station was quiet. Francey sat in the glass-enclosed booth staring at the trucks in the bay with only the hum of the computer to keep her company. It was almost impossible not to think about Alex here. She recalled vividly other early morning hours she’d talked to him.
Remember in Backdraft how William Baldwin made love to the girl in the bed of the truck? Wouldn’t that be fun? Close your eyes, sweetheart, and imagine I’m touching you.
Juxtaposed with those seductive words was the last time he’d phoned the station. Richard had confessed that he’d started the warehouse fire—though Francey hadn’t known why Alex needed to talk to her. But the reason wouldn’t have mattered. She was a firefighter; she would have had to leave under any circumstances.
It was her being a firefighter that he couldn’t accept. Francey sighed heavily.
A movement to her left caught her attention. Ed Knight stood in the doorway, sipping from a coffee mug. “You okay, kid?”
Francey nodded, battling back tears. God, every time somebody showed concern these days, she felt like bawling. Combined with the fact that she could barely swallow food, she knew she was on the skids. “Sure. I’m fine.”
“Want company?”
“I’d love some.”
Casually he took a chair across from her. They made small talk about the crew for a while. Then Francey asked, “Ed, how’d you keep a marriage going all these years?”
“We had some tough times. Still do.”
“Did…does Cindy worry?”
The captain sat back and propped his feet on the desk. “Yeah, she does. She says she handles the stress, but I can see in her eyes when she’s terrified.” He stared into space. “And I’ve caught her crying.”
“But she tolerates the fear. For you.”
He nodded. “Sometimes I wish I’d chosen some other line of work, though. I can never take the terror away.”
“Is it hard to live with? Knowing you cause her to worry?”
He cocked his head. “Not compared to the alternative. I can’t imagine life without Cindy. And she feels the same way. Marriage is full of compromises, but this firefighter thing is the worst. And the burden is mostly on her.” He looked at Francey. “Which is hard for me, knowing I hurt her just by being who I am.”
After Ed left, Francey told herself her life was better this way. Why get herself in the position Ed was in? Too many people had trouble. Nicky and Sue who’d divorced because they fought so much. Her mother and father—who were dating like freakin’ teenagers. Ed and Cindy Knight—who had the best marriage she’d ever seen and two beautiful sons. It did hurt too much, didn’t it?
She caught a glimpse of herself in the windowpane. Impatiently, she swiped the tears from her cheeks, then buried her face in her hands.
oOo
Ben Cordaro swore silently as he rang Francey’s doorbell. He shook his head, thinking about her mother, who still had the power to wrap him around her little finger.
You know what you have to do, darling. Not just for us. But for our daughter.
Despite his chagrin, he smiled. God, it was good to be with Diana—to hear her laugh, to see her eyes go dark with desire when he kissed her. He felt whole for the first time in years.
He leaned on the bell.
Francey finally opened the door. She looked like hell. Hair limp and lusterless. Purple smudges under her eyes. Thin. Too thin.
“Where’s the fire, Dad?”
“I gotta talk to you. Now.”
Brushing past her, he strode into the living room. The place was a mess. Stacks of magazines covered the floor. Empty glasses left rings on the table and a cup tilted over on the rug. Articles of clothing were strewn everywhere.
His daughter was a wreck. He was right to come here.
“Honey, we have to talk.”
“Sure.” She perched on the edge of a chair.
He paced, wondering how to begin. Aw, hell, he’d just jump right in. “I’m going to ask your mother to remarry me.”
Stunned, she stared at him. “What?”
“I think she’ll say yes.” After this, anyway.
“Oh, Dad, that’s great.” Francey bit her lip. “I’m happy for you.”
Jamming his hands into his pockets, Ben studied the child of his heart. His little girl. He’d bandaged her scraped knees, soothed her bruised ankles from soccer games and held her hand when she was burned in a fire. Now he’d do some emotional EMS. “Don’t be happy for me, France. Learn from me. From my mistakes.”
“I don’t understand.”
God, this was hard to admit. So much wasted time. “I was wrong to let your mother go all those years ago.”
Francey gaped at him.
“I should have fought harder to keep her. I should have gone after her when she went to New York to school.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “Pride. Youth. Foolishness.”
His daughter shook her head. “No, Dad, she should have been able to handle firefighting. She even admits that now.”
“I’ve never loved anyone else, honey. Twenty-seven years, and there was no one else. I was twenty-six when she left. Younger than you are now.”
She threw up her hands; they landed with a slap on her ragged cutoffs. “I know you’re trying to help, but our situations are not the same. Alex and I aren’t married. We don’t have kids. We’ll get over each other.”
Gesturing to the living room, he also scanned her from head to toe. “You’re not doing a very good job of getting over him.”
“We only split up a month ago.”
“My guess is you’ll be the same in a year. In a decade. I was.”
She shook her head, her eyes suddenly wide and frightened.
He forged ahead. “If I had to do it all over again—knowing what I know now—I’d give up the fire department.”
Francey bolted upright. “What?”
He nodded.
“But you loved your job. Firefighting was your life.”
“I loved her more. She was my life.” He swallowed hard. “I just didn’t know it when she left.”
“Are you saying I should quit firefighting for Alex?”
Ben crossed to her and grasped her shoulders. His touch was gentle because he’d never seen her so fragile. “No. I’m saying you can work this out. Go with Alex to see Reed Macauley. And the department is going to start a support group at the academy for spouses.” He smiled at the girl he loved so much. “Just don’t set yourself up for the kind of pain I’ve had. Nothing in the world is worth it.”
oOo
Across town, Diana found Alex skimming stones on the lake. In the early evening, a balmy end-of-August breeze rustled around them.
“Alex.”
When he turned and saw her, his face drained of color and he clenched his fists. Finally he said, “Something’s happened to her.”
“No, no. I’m sorry to frighten you.”
“Oh.” Alex shifted away, to compose himself, she guessed.
After a moment Diana asked, “Are you going to live your whole life like this—waiting and wondering if she’s safe?”
He rounded on her. His eyes blazed, matching the setting sun behind him. “That’s precisely why I left her, Diana. So I don’t live my life like this.”
Diana moved closer to him, put a gentle hand on her arm. “And you think your concern will stop because you left her?”
“In time.”
“Then take some advice from me. I thought that, too. When I was twenty-four and left Ben. When I was thirty-four and remarried. Then again when I was forty-four.”
“You don’t mean…”
“Yes, I do. I never stopped worrying. And you know what? I lost him anyway. I still worried, but I didn’t have the good times with him, with all of them, to make my anxiety worthwhile.”
“It’s not the same.”
Diana gave him a sympathetic smile. “It is, Alex. And I’m here to tell you that you’re making a horrible mistake.”
When he didn’t answer, she went on. “You’ll live the rest of your life wondering and waiting—without her love in return.” Diana squeezed his arm, then turned and walked up the hill toward the road, feeling his gaze on her.
oOo
The annual Firefighter’s Ball took place every Labor Day to benefit the families of Rockford firefighters who’d been injured or killed in the line of duty. Put on jointly by the Rockford Firefighters Benevolent Association and local businesses, the event was held at Bright Oaks Country Club—which was decorated tonight in the rich reds and deep oranges of autumn. But Ben Cordaro only had eyes for the sequined beauty in his arms.
“You outdid yourself, Dee,” he said as he held her against him on the dance floor. The band played oldies, and the lead singer bellowed out the Righteous Brothers’ “Soul and Inspiration.”
“Did you design the dress?” The white silk floor-length gown hugged her every curve and dipped low at the neckline. Its silver sequins glittered when she moved.
“No, I don’t make anything this fancy.”
“Oh, you bought it to wreak havoc with my blood pressure?”
Diana’s musical laugh was muffled as he tugged her close to his heart. She smelled of some alluring female scent. He shook his head, wondering why he ever thought he could live without her.
“You look like dynamite in that tux, too, Chief Cordaro.”
Grinning, he bent and whispered, “Come on, I want to go outside for some air.”
She followed him to the terrace and up a small path that led to a bench. They were totally out of sight of the ballroom—which fit perfectly into his plans.
Without warning, he sat and pulled her onto his lap.
“Ben, what are you doing?”
He nuzzled her breasts. “You can’t sit on the bench. You’ll get your dress dirty.”
After a moment, she wound her arms around his neck. Music from inside floated around them.
He looked up. “Do you remember when I proposed?”
“Yes. We were out in the garden at my parents, sitting on a bench…” She stilled. He saw her swallow hard, and he kissed the pulse in her neck. “Ben?”
“I want you to marry me again, Dee. As soon as possible. With my ring that you saved. In that same justice of the peace’s living room in Warsaw. I called. He’s still in business.”
She stared at him. When tears pooled in her violet eyes, his heart began to hammer. “I talked to Francey this week. I told her—”
Diana brought a finger to his lips and pressed. “Shh.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “Yes.”
“Just like that? No questions?”
“Just like that,” she whispered. “Just like the last time.”
“I want you to know what I told our daughter.”
“All right.” She kissed his cheek. “But I’m sure you did the right thing for her.”
Holding her gaze, he prepared to make the biggest confession of his life. “I told her that if I had to do it over again, knowing what I know now, I’d quit firefighting before I’d let you leave me over the job.”
At first Diana froze. Then her whole body trembled. The moisture in her eyes spilled onto her cheeks. “I never expected you to do that, Ben.”
“I know.” He trapped the tears with his fingertips. “But I love you more than firefighting. I just didn’t know it then.”
Diana lowered her head to his shoulder and wept.
Ben held her and felt his eyes mist. So many years wasted. So much pain. It was why they couldn’t let their daughter make the same mistake. Beneath the canopy of twinkling stars, Ben vowed he’d help Francey and Alex any way he could.
oOo
When Francey entered the Bright Oaks ballroom, the first thing she saw was her mother and father coming from outside holding hands. They looked happy and settled. The underlying restlessness in her father was gone. So was Diana’s inner sadness.
“Want some champagne, France?” Jake, her date, asked. As usual he was dressed to kill in a funky black collarless tux with a pleated shirt. He smiled warmly at her.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Better come with me to get some.” He gripped her hand. “I don’t dare leave you alone in that dress. It’s lethal, kiddo. I shouldn’t have let you out of the house wearing it.”
“Spare me, Jakey.”
But she went anyway, needing the security of his presence, which was why she’d asked him to accompany her to the ball. When they reached the champagne bar, she scanned the room.
And saw him.
Alex leaned against a pillar by the double French doors, sipping a glass of champagne and staring at her. She faced him fully—so he could get a good look at the dress—and stared back. He lifted his glass to her in a subtle salute. Her confidence wavered. Oh, God, what if she couldn’t pull this off?
Jake handed her some champagne. As he drank his, he glanced around. “Templeton’s here. Boring a hole through your dress with his eyes.”
“Good.” Pivoting, she gave Alex a view of her back. Francey was suddenly very grateful for Chelsea’s insistence that she buy the slinky gold outfit.
Chelsea and Beth stopped by to chat, looking sensational in their new outfits—the ice green sheath for Beth and the black chiffon for Chelsea. Her mother outshone all the women, and her father was devastating in a black tux. The guys in her crew who’d attended looked handsome—and different—in their suits, too.
Dylan pulled her out on the dance floor when the notes of “Yesterday” filled the air. His classic tuxedo was accented by a whimsical red cummerbund and pocket handkerchief. “You clean up real good, France.”
“So do you.”
His eyes sparkled their blue magic. “I got news today. I wanted you to be the first to know.”
She looked at him questioningly.
“I’m going to the academy in a few weeks. As a lieutenant, to help train the next recruit class.”
“Wow! This is a surprise.”
“No, it isn’t. I asked for the assignment. There aren’t any officers’ positions coming up, and I’m itching to do something else.”
“But the academy? Nobody wants to go there.” She studied him. “You were always different, Dyl.”
“Well, I’ve got my teaching degree from Cortland State, remember?”
“That’s right.”
“Anyway, I’m looking forward to all of it,” he said, shooting daggers across the room at Beth, who was dancing with Eric Scanlon, “except working with Lizzie Borden. I—” A hand clapped Dylan’s shoulder as the song ended.
Francey was so surprised by Dylan’s news that she hadn’t seen Alex come up behind them. “I think this next dance is mine, O’Roarke.”
Francey’s heart skidded to a halt. After a full month without seeing him, she couldn’t wrest her gaze from his face.
Dylan turned to Alex. “It’s about time, Templeton. How could you wait this long after seeing her in that dress?”
“I gave her exactly one half hour to socialize with her friends,” he said, insinuating himself between her and Dylan. His touch was firm on her waist, and his hand clasped hers.
Nodding, Dylan patted Alex on the back and kissed Francey’s cheek.
Francey stared at Alex as they moved to some soulful Motown. He looked heartbreakingly handsome in his raven tux and snowy shirt. His face was drawn, though, as if he’d lost weight. She searched for something to say. “A half hour, huh?”
He pulled her to him. “Yep. It’s all you get.”
“Pretty autocratic, Templeton.”
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, babe. Now be quiet and let me hold you.” Possessively, he drew her close. His hand stroked her bare back. After a moment he whispered hoarsely in her ear, “I’ve missed you so much.”
She tightened her grip on his neck. “I’ve missed you, too.”
When the song ended, Alex stared at her. He cleared his throat, almost unable to bear how beautiful she looked tonight. “Come outside with me for a bit.”
She nodded.
Securing her hand in his, he led her through the throng to the patio. He didn’t stop until they reached a small bench down a deserted path. Stars twinkled approvingly at them from an inky sky. When they faced each other, they spoke simultaneously.
“Your mother came to see me—”
“My father came to see me—”
They smiled.
“I’ll go first.” Alex smoothed her hair. She’d arranged it so it curled soft and fluffy around her face. “I’ve been miserable.”
“Me, too. I can’t eat.”
“That bad?”
She nodded.
He slid his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a long, burgundy box. Handing it to her, he said, “Open it.”
She cocked her head as she lifted the lid. Inside nestled a delicate gold chain. Attached to it was a finely etched medal.
Saint Florian. The protector of firefighters.
Francesca gripped the box. He hoped she understood what this meant. In case she didn’t, he said quickly, “I’ll pray every day of our lives for God to keep you safe. I’ll go to counseling indefinitely. I’ll do anything, love, but we’ve got to find a way to work this out.”
When she lifted her gaze, there were tears in her eyes. “I want that, too. I’ll go to counseling, too. My dad says they’re starting a support group for spouses out at the academy. I’ll be careful and I won’t take any unnecessary risks.” She drew in a deep breath. “And when we decide to have kids, I’ll rethink all of this. I’ll be in a staff position, anyway, for a while when I’m pregnant and after—”
He pressed his fingers to her mouth. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“I love you, Alex.”
“I love you, too. Marry me soon. This month.”
“Yes, as soon as possible.”
His arms went around her, and he held her tightly. Then he drew back, removed the medal from the box and slipped the chain over her head. He kissed the icon, then tucked it into the neckline of her dress. “Be safe, love.”
“I will. For you.”
Briefly he closed his eyes and sighed. Then he ran his hands down to her hips. “And enjoy wearing this dress tonight.”
She’d caught the change in his mood. “Oh, why?”
“Because I’m burning it afterward.”
“Then make sure I’m around to put out the fire.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “From now on, Francesca, you can put out all my fires.”
She smiled demurely and batted her lashes at him. “Whatever you say, Alex.”
“Like hell.” Then he lowered his head and kissed her.
oOo
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All four books in this series were published in the late ‘90s or early 2000, so I was thrilled to get back the rights from my press. All four have been reworked and hugely edited, along with making each one tie into my other firefighter series, Hidden Cove. Cameos of those firefighters appear in all the Rockford Fire Department books.
As you may have read in subsequent books, my foray into the world of firefighting began when I decided to tackle a profession I knew nothing about. So I jumped headlong into research. Thankfully, my city fire department allowed me to ride the trucks, try on gear and start equipment like the Jaws of Life and a K-12 saw. They welcomed me into their fire academy, taught me a lot about EMS and let me be a “victim” in their recruit training rotations. But most important, they spent hours with me at all times of the day and night in their firehouses, talking about their jobs, why they became firefighters and experiences they had, like losing a baby in a fire and getting burned. None of these books could have been written without them. They are utterly courageous, often funny, always interesting, kind, sensitive, daring, adventurous and, yes, even romantic people. I hope you find that the characters in my books have all these qualities, too.
That said, FEEL THE HEAT was born out of one question. What would it be like to love a firefighter? He walks into potentially fatal situations every time he leaves home. That was how Diana and Ben’s story—the subplot of this book—evolved. Then I turned it around. Women have been sending men off to war and hazardous professions for centuries. But could a man do the same? Along came the hero, Alex Templeton, who is saved by the heroine, firefighter Francey Cordaro, and spends the rest of the book trying to adjust to her lifestyle.
The romance in the story developed naturally. These two people, though different in many ways, liked each other right away. When they allow themselves to be together, attraction and affection grow between them. Alex is in many ways an alpha male, who takes over, tries to manage the relationship and makes demands on Francey that he promised he wouldn’t. Francey holds off too long, I think, and then has to prove she cares. But in truth, I loved Alex’s open admission of his feelings and what he wants, and I thought Francey was a doll. Don’t we all wish we could be like her and not care a whit about looks and material things?
I hope you enjoyed this series as much as you did Hidden Cove. I know I enjoyed writing them.
Kathy
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Don’t miss the rest of the books in the ROCKFORD FIRE DEPARTMENT series.
She saves him from a fire, then steals his heart without even trying. When white hot attraction kicks in, sparks fly!
She’s the only woman he can’t charm. He’s the only man she can never love.
He was the most upstanding lieutenant in the department, until he made a critical error in judgement that almost ended his career. And she’s a mistake just waiting to happen.
She’s a feisty counselor of troubled teens. He’s the fire department psychologist who’s trying to outrun his demons. They clash at every turn.
To browse Kathryn’s impressive list of titles go to http://www.kathrynshay.com/books/.