How to Seduce a Fireman

His captain’s index finger rose like a flag on a pole. “Wolf knows what’s said in this office stays between us. When you came here over three years ago with eyes as vacant as my brother-in-law’s mind, I got curious. Damned curious. Magna cum laude in college—Harvard, no less—hellacious high scores on the civil service exam and a pristine background check. Exemplary service with the State Department. Yet you wanted to charge into burning buildings?” Noah grunted. “Made the back side of my balls tickle—and not in a good way. I made a few calls to some old Army buddies who work in the State Department.”

“What the hell are you two talking about? This man’s been my boat pilot for over two damn years, and I’m just now hearing he used to work for the Drug Enforcement Agency? Why wasn’t I clued in?” Wolf’s narrowed scrutiny swept over Quinn like a Mack truck over a pothole. “When were you with the State Department? And what the hell happened in Chile?”

Wolf would expect a full report. Quinn stared at the tiled ceiling for a few beats, coming to a decision about how much info to share, how much he could, according to the department’s confidentiality agreements he’d signed. Hell, he wasn’t sharing a damned thing beyond general information.

“I worked for the State Department for two years or more before being assigned to temporary duty with the DEA. Any information beyond that is on a ‘need to know’ basis. You know how that works. I don’t recall you regaling the family with tales of your old SEAL missions.”

Wolf scowled for a few beats and then nodded. Quinn could have sworn a new level of respect glistened from his commander’s eyes. “I feel what you’re saying.”

Noah leaned on his chair’s two back legs and grinned in that smart-ass way he had. “So, Quinn, if this has nothing to do with your former work experiences—and I don’t believe that song and dance for a minute—then what are we going to do with little Cassie after you run and hide?” He smirked at Wolf and winked. “Boyd’s newly separated from his old lady. Bet he could use some of your sister’s sweetness to help him over this smoke inhalation thing.”

Like hell.

Wolf chuckled, the bastard. “Yeah, he might at that. I’ll have to introduce them, if they haven’t met already.”

Quinn straightened in his chair, every muscle tensed. Boyd and my angel? No fucking way.

Wolf’s eyebrows raised in question. “How are you going to feel once the rest of the single guys here find out you’ve cut Cassie loose? Man, you’ve got to know they’ve held back from asking her out because of you. Once they hear you’re leaving, especially after the way you cut her down yesterday, they’ll be sniffing around her like the horny sonsabitches they are.”

A green haze poured over Quinn’s vision field like monster goo from Cassie’s favorite animated flick and, in a nanosecond, the green morphed to dark red boiling rage. He’d be damned if anyone sniffed around her. Not after he’d gotten a taste of her last night. His chair clattered to the floor as he lunged for Wolf.

CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_759b2b7f-cffe-5332-ac0a-b136a0825dbc)

A swath of sunlight burned Cassie’s eyelids while some evil fiend inside her head, armed with a blowtorch, scorched her brain cells. She rolled away from part of the source of her discomfort and met Mr. Hangover, the booze beast, the harbinger of queasy stomachs and banger headaches. A long groan escaped as she covered her ears to keep them from tumbling off her head. She pried her eyelids a crack and noted blue and white striped sheets. Where was she?

Toenails clattered on the steps. Einstein, who must have heard her groan, charged around the corner into the bedroom, jumped on the bed and licked her face, whining a wail of concern.

“I’m okay, buddy. Just don’t jar the bed, please.” Her hand slipped from the covers to pet Becca’s German shepherd. How did she end up here? Where were her clothes? Memories of last night slowly crept into her muddled mind.

Quinn.

She’d thrown up and he’d rushed her to his Jeep as if she was about to disintegrate into a bazillion bits of barf residue. He’d kissed her forehead and murmured words of comfort. Then he’d put her shoes on her feet after wiping off the sand. Her hand covered her eyes, gently, because they were about to pop out of her head and roll down her cheeks. I certainly know how to make a good impression, don’t I?

Footsteps trunked up the steps. “Cassie? You up?”

She gasped and snatched the covers over her head. “Stop yelling, Wolf. And don’t come in, I’m not decent.”

“You’ve got ten minutes to shower and get dressed. Becca’s at work, but she put some clean clothes on the vanity in the bathroom for you. I’m making breakfast and then we’re talking. Don’t dawdle.”

“God, I feel like I’m fourteen again.” How many times had he told her not to poke around, and how often had she done it just to hear him growl. After her parents died, he’d become her rock, her security.

Footsteps sounded on the steps as Wolf descended. “Hell, if you were fourteen, you’d be grounded and on some serious-assed restrictions. Ten minutes and counting.”

She rustled under the covers and scratched behind Einstein’s ears again. “Big man doesn’t scare us, does he?”

Einstein whined and licked her face.

A pink wrapped gift on the nightstand caught her eye. Was it for her? Or was it something Wolf had left for Becca? But why would he put it here and not in Becca’s bedroom? She reached for the oblong package and fingered the silver ribbon. A small gift tag read “To Cassie, from Quinn. Happy Birthday, Peanut.”

Her heart rate kicked into the happy-to-be-me category. He’d bought her a gift. Even if it was something cheap and goofy, he’d thought enough of her to buy it and have it wrapped. So why didn’t he bring it to her birthday party? Her eyes narrowed. Oh yeah, his mystery female visitor.

Pushing that thought aside, she slid the metallic ribbon off the box. No way could he have wrapped it so carefully. She slid her fingernail along the taped edge and folded back the iridescent pink paper. The embossed logo on the white jeweler’s box impressed her. Had Quinn really gone to Zales to buy her a gift? She snapped the lid open and gasped. From a delicate gold chain dangled a filigree heart pendant. An angel nestled within the open scrollwork edging the heart. Small brilliant diamonds covered the angel’s outstretched wings.

She blinked back tears. “Oh, Quinn, you do care. No matter what you say, you do care.” When he’d kissed her last night, he’d called her his angel. Is this how he thought of her? As an angel who’d wormed her way into his heart? She slid two fingers beneath the pendant, the warmth of the gold soaking into her skin like the sun’s rays on a bright June day. So beautiful. So fragile-looking and yet solid, just like her feelings for him.

She pressed the white box to her heart and sighed. Her first jewelry gift from a man, and the man was Quinn.

Einstein sniffed what she held and then laid his chin on her shoulder, his black eyes studying her. She ran a finger between his eyes and down his muzzle. “I have an admirer. He’s just too scared to admit it yet. Poor schmuck.” She giggled with glee and the dog licked her face. “Poor chicken shit schmuck.” The canine’s tail beat a happy rhythm on the bed.

“Cassie? Six minutes and thirty seconds!”

Her brother’s booming voice snagged the dog’s attention and he growled deep in his throat.

She placed a hand on Einstein’s head. “Doesn’t that man know I have a hangover? Why does he have to yell?”

The German shepherd woofed once. He bounded off the bed, charged to the top of the steps and barked as if he were saying, “Shut the hell up! Woman with a hangover up here!”

“Six damn minutes! Einstein? Want some kibble?” Toenails jangled down the stairway. Evidently the canine’s stomach overrode being chivalrous.

Cassie placed the gift from Quinn back on the nightstand and slowly sat, willing her aching body to cooperate. Just to prove Wolf didn’t scare her with his macho bossiness, she took ten minutes to shower, dress and put on her angel necklace. Although if she were honest, she had to move slower than normal to lessen the effects of the Westminster chimes gonging in her head—in triplicate. If she lived through this hangover, she’d never drink booze again.

Wolf sat at Becca’s dining room table, his rigid body posture familiar. He was about to give her holy hell. His narrow-eyed gaze swept to her before he pointed to the chair next to him. “Tomato juice. Drink. Coffee. Drink. Fried eggs. Eat.”

She pointed to him. “Mouth. Close.”

“Don’t fu…play with me, Cassie. I’m not in the mood. You had no business doing shots and getting shitfaced.”

A long-suffering sigh escaped. “I’m twenty-one. I can drink if I want.”

He crossed his arms and assumed his faux-father bearing. “Being twenty-one also carries a passel of responsibilities, young lady.”

Oh God, he was dragging out the “young lady” speech. She gulped the tomato juice and choked. “Holy hell, what’s in this?”

“Two raw eggs, minced garlic, Tabasco sauce and a shot of whiskey.” He had the audacity to wink. “Hair-o-the-dawg. It’ll cure what ails ya.” He made a wiggling motion with his fingertips. “Drink up.”

“Will I feel better or worse?” She forced down a little more and her stomach churned and clenched. Then she noticed his winking expression continued. She tilted her head and studied him. “What’s wrong with your eye?” His broad hand rose to cover it and she coiled her fingers around his wrist to yank it back. For a few seconds they played tug-of-war in the air until he relented and relaxed his muscles.

She stood and leaned over him, peering closely at his face. “Wolf, your eye is swollen. It’s turning black and blue.” Her fingers lightly traced the curve of his face. “Your cheek is bruised and your bottom lip is split. Are these work-related injuries?” His silence was telling; so was the fact he wouldn’t make eye contact. “Were you in a fight?” This was so unlike her brother. “What on earth happened?”

“Quinn’s fist and I had an intimate conversation.”

“Quinn did this?” She collapsed in her chair and sipped more of the doctored tomato juice. “Why?” Quinn and her brother were close. Sure they teased, but never got out of hand with it. If either one needed help, the other one was there in a heartbeat.

Wolf gulped his coffee and slung an arm over the back of the chair. “I was pushing him. Trying to find out his true feelings about you.”

Her hand covered the golden angel pendant. “And?”

He pointed to her eggs. “Eat those before they get any colder than they already have.”