Hot to Touch

Emma Rawlings had entered the ready room.

Shane turned, his gaze sweeping over the heads of the room and the fleeing bodies of the rookies before connecting with hers.

With only a slight pause, he continued the briefing. When asked a question, he reluctantly broke contact and answered. When he turned back around, one of the jumpers had come to stand beside her.

His eyes narrowed when he saw her withdraw a pad from the oversize bag she wore, busy scribbling notes. She placed the notebook back inside and then withdrew an expensive-looking camera, brought the lens to her eye and snapped off a shot of the jumper she was speaking to before aiming her lens toward the men gathered around her.

When a few of the guys turned toward her, and actually smiled for the camera, Shane knew he had to turn away or he was liable to go over and snatch it from her hand to further prevent his men from embarrassing themselves with their shameless display of eagerness.

“Each group has their general assignments for the day. Before heading out, check the board for further assignments. Any more announcements?” he asked, turning to the squad leaders. When none answered, he continued. “Roll call!” and proceeded to fire off the list of names to answering variations of “Yo,” “Yep,” and “Huah!” until everyone had been accounted for.

When several stopped on the way out the door to stand and talk to Emma, he barked, “I’ll meet with C team in the cargo area in ten. Ms. Rawlings, I need to speak with you.”

When the last man left, Emma had no choice but to face him, watching him approach warily while reminding herself that anything he could dish out, she could take.

When he stood less than two feet away from her he crossed his arms over his big chest. The stance, like the scowl on his face whenever he was around her, was becoming irritatingly familiar.

“Looks like you’ve met all the men.”

The way he said it made it seem as though she had stripped down and given each man a lap dance instead of the simple interview she’d conducted. She gave him a tight-lipped smile, refusing to let him see how badly he was getting to her.

“When the men are being briefed, I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t distract them,” he continued and stepped closer.

Emma took an involuntary step away. Her glance slid over his sensual mouth, one side hitched lightly in a mimicry of a smile as he stood there, looming over her.

She stood still. Like a doe caught in headlights, she felt hemmed in. The air around them grew thick, moist—dewy with an underlying tension she couldn’t break away from. She refused to back up even when he stepped so close she could smell the heated, musky scent of his aftershave mixed with his natural male essence.

She blew out a breath, slowly, her lips partially opening, her tongue snaking out to lick the lower rim. When his gaze followed the action of her tongue, Emma’s heartbeat began to thump frantically against her chest, her palms grew moist, her body hot.

Emma raised her chin, resisting the urgent desire to flee. “They seem like big boys. They can handle it, I’m sure.”

He raised a hand and brought one finger down the line of her jaw. She stared up at him, controlling the crazy desire to turn into his caress.

“Didn’t your mama ever tell you that playing with fire is a sure fire way to get burned, Ms. Rawlings?”

With their gazes locked, his bright-eyed gaze roamed over her face, over her mouth and down her throat before meeting hers. Emma felt as though it were his hands running over her, her body responding against her understanding or will.

The ends of his nostrils flared, his mouth following the path of her tongue as it again wet her lips.

“I’m working with the men this morning. I’m afraid you’ll have to find someone else to entertain you, Ms. Rawlings.”

When he walked away, she expelled the breath she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding.

God, what in the world had just happened, she wondered, her body slumping back against the wall.

Unconsciously running her fingers over the part of her face he’d touched, she watched him stride from the room.

Chapter Seven

“I’m training the rookies this morning. Meet me in the classroom in fifteen minutes.”

Emma spun around upon hearing Shane’s voice behind her, trying not to allow her surprise to show. She assumed that after their exchange two days ago she’d be left to her own devices, and this idea had proven correct over the last couple of days. She hadn’t been idle during that period, had instead used the time to interview and photograph the jumpers as they trained, pleasantly surprised when the majority seemed eager to speak in their down time.

She’d only caught occasional glimpses of Shane, usually by accident. And nine times out of ten, Shane was out the door within minutes whenever she showed up. Maybe Roebuck had spoken with him, or maybe he’d had a sudden change of heart regarding her. Whatever the reason, Emma wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. With a nod, she quickly made her way to her room and grabbed her gear, just in case. She was back in the classroom before the allotted fifteen minutes was up.

When she showed up to find she was the only one there, none of the rookies around, she felt a keen sense of disappointment. The disappointment led to outrage when one of the squad leaders strode into the room and informed her that she’d be watching a series of films about the history and lives of smoke jumpers, followed by a training film on the various ways a parachute could kill a person.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she murmured, her mouth thinning into a long, angry line as he set up the film.

“Oh, and uh, Shane said to leave you with this.” He handed her a small, hot bag full of popcorn.

When he caught the look in her eyes, he quickly turned and left, but not before Emma saw the smirk lurking in the squad leader’s eyes. Tempted to throw the bag of popcorn at his retreating back, she instead plopped down in a nearby chair.

“The least he could have done was leave me some extra butter to go with it,” she mumbled moodily.

“Fighting fires of any type is a tough, dirty job. Only the brave need apply…”

As the narrator of the black-and-white film spoke, she sighed, settling back in the chair and reaching into the bag of popcorn.

In the ready room, after the marathon of dusty old archived films she’d been forced to sit through, Emma finally had enough and left, seeking out one of the squad leaders…and avoiding Shane.

She hadn’t known what in the world the man would throw at her next. Still, for every roadblock he threw in her path, Emma had maneuvered around it, pleased with the progress she’d begun to make on her article.

Initially she’d been relieved for the reprieve, but as the days grew, her irritation grew as well. She needed his input as second in command. She was supposed to be trailing him, after all. She didn’t need his approval, and his insights were what she needed to make her article shine.

And although she’d managed to do her job without his interference over the last two days, she decided then that it was time to flip the script.

After her afternoon interview with Roebuck, again left to her own devices, she’d gone into the gym, only to see Shane along with his team, working out. She turned to beat a hasty retreat when he caught sight of her and invited her to go against one of the senior jumpers in scaling down the wall.

“Ms. Rawlings.” He stopped her before she could take more than a few steps.

Reluctantly, Emma turned back around to face him.

“You seem to know your way around a wall,” he began, and several of the men chuckled. Emma lifted her chin, raised a brow and waited for him to continue.

“Rick here is one of the best. Care to match your…skills…against his?”

The man he nodded his head toward was built like a truck. Although equal to Shane in height, this man looked as though he belonged on a football field battering through an angry defensive line, instead of jumping out of planes.

“You beat him, you have free rein of the station.” He threw out the challenge. “Nothing is off limits.”

“No one as well?” She saw the hesitation in his eyes and waited.

Finally, he nodded. “Nothing.” He paused. “And no one. But if you lose, you lose your article as well.”

The stakes were high, but without Shane Emma realized she didn’t have a complete article anyway. She dropped her pad and took her place at the top of the wall and then glanced over at her competitor and bit her lower lip.

There was no way she could she beat this man, she thought, inwardly groaning, but she put on a confident smile nonetheless.