Hot to Touch. Kimberly Kaye Terry

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СКАЧАТЬ But she let it drop, choosing not to alienate her new informant by digging for more information he wasn’t ready to give.

      When her eyes met his again, the look in them made her draw back physically. His animosity seemed to reach out and grab her, so vibrant it was almost as if it were a living thing. The effect was as though someone had punched her right in the stomach.

      Emma forced her body to stay erect, forced herself not to take a step back, so sudden and unexpected was both the look and the effect it had on her. For whatever reason, he didn’t want her there. Okay. Fine. She could deal with that.

      What she didn’t want to examine, much less deal with, was her body’s reaction to him. The way—despite the obvious dislike he had for her, whatever the reason was behind it—the sizzle of awareness between them made her tremble slightly. She’d never had that happen with anyone else, much less someone who seemed to have such an irrational sense of disdain for her.

      Whatever his issue, Emma had no intention of allowing him to try and get rid of her. She had come for one purpose, and one only—to write the best damn article she could, one she hoped would go to national syndication and take her career to the next level.

      He was the senior smoke jumper at the station, and after the base manager, he was the one in charge. He had a lot of pull. His influence, if he chose to protest her presence, would make her job difficult.

      Too much was on the line to allow some guy with a serious attitude—no matter how fine he was—to mess it up for her. She casually looked over her shoulder. A shiver ran over her arms as their glances collided again.

      That might not be such an easy task.

      She held his gaze until he broke contact, only to allow his eyes to slowly, insolently run the length of her body. When his glance brushed over her breasts, she felt her body respond against her will. Her treacherous nipples stabbed against her sports bra, and Emma checked herself before she wrapped her arms around chest as though she had something to be ashamed of.

      She wasn’t wearing anything provocative. Before her climb she’d tucked her oversize T-shirt into her knee-length shorts and pulled her hair up into a ponytail, and she was wearing no makeup. Yet the way he was looking at her, she felt naked. Exposed. She suppressed a shiver.

      She placed a purposefully nonchalant smile on her face before turning away, but she could still feel his eyes on her. If he had something to say to her, he could come and say it, she thought, ignoring the sizzle of heat searing a hole straight through her back.

      “Have you had a chance to go over and meet Ms. Rawlings yet?”

      Shane turned as the base manager approached, dragging his attention away from the reporter.

      “Ms. Rawlings?” he asked, raising a brow. His commander’s dark face flushed in acknowledgment of the emphasis.

      “Listen, Shane, if I told you she was a woman, you never would have agreed to it.”

      “Damn straight.”

      There was a short pause, both men eyeing each other, neither one giving an inch. Finally, Roebuck sighed.

      “Give her a chance. I’ve known her editor for years.

      We go way back. If he says she can do the job, she can. We need the good press that’ll come from her being here and the potential donations from the public. I don’t have to tell you how tough the economy is. And the state budget is tight. This could get us the cash flow we need for new equipment. So please, play nice.”

      Shane was ready to fire off a retort, just as the woman approached them. He clamped his mouth shut, folded his arms across his chest and waited until she stood in front of them. Giving Shane only a quick, cursory glance, her eyes darted away and she turned her attention to Roebuck.

      Up close, her small, heart-shaped face was dominated by a pair of large, dark brown eyes, surrounded by long, full lashes. As she’d scaled down the rope, he’d noted how long her shapely legs were, but he had misjudged her height. Up close, the top of her dark brown head barely reached him at chest level.

      Both her height and pretty face gave the appearance of a fragile doll. Still, although petite, her legs were long, shapely, and toned, as was the rest of her body, belying the notion that there was anything fragile about Emogene Rawlings.

      Several strands of hair had escaped from her haphazard ponytail, and Shane felt a sudden and unwanted need to finger the dark tendrils and see if her hair were as soft as it looked.

      “That was damn impressive!” Roebuck said to her, pulling Shane out of his observations.

      “Thanks, sir. I can’t believe how much fun it was!”

      “It’s hardly fun and games,” Shane said. “This is training—training the men go through on a daily basis to prepare them for whatever hazardous mission they may face on any given day. Call it what you will, but it’s hardly fun and games.”

      Roebuck turned to Shane, heartily smacking him on the back. “Of course it isn’t, Shane. And I think Ms. Rawlings will fit right in, no problem at all!” If the commander’s hearty enthusiasm sounded a bit forced, no one called him on it. “And for the next four weeks, Emma will follow you, learn what it takes to be a jumper, interview the men and—”

      “Now wait a minute, boss. What do you mean she’ll be following me? I never agreed to that!”

      There was a long, strained silence. “Shane, Emma…why don’t we go to my office and discuss the particulars?” Roebuck turned on his heels, walking stiffly toward the exit.

      Emma glanced around self-consciously, noticing they were the center of attention. With a tight smile aimed at the staring group of jumpers, she went to follow Roebuck out of the gym. From her peripheral vision she saw Shane hesitate, as though he had no intention of meekly following along.

      She released a breath of relief when she saw him reluctantly follow them. So this was the jumper she was supposed to shadow. A sinking feeling settled in her gut.

      Well, damn.

      Chapter Three

      “Sir, no disrespect intended, but I don’t really give a damn what ‘good press’ she’ll bring to the station. I just want her out of here. The sooner the better. And she sure as hell is not trailing me around. I have enough to worry about without playing babysitter to some damn reporter!”

      Shane tried to keep his anger at a slow boil. He respected his base manager and didn’t want to go off half-cocked and say something he’d regret later.

      Although Roebuck was in his early forties, his craggy features made him look older, deep lines scoring the sides of his full mouth, due to the hard life he’d led. He’d come to the smoke jumpers after serving several years in the military as a paratrooper, most of his service done during several deployments overseas. Despite all of that, Shane had rarely seen Roebuck blow his stack. Even when one of the younger jumpers screwed up, the captain always kept his cool and always treated everyone fairly, equally, from the newest jumper to the seasoned vets.

      It was one of the many traits Shane admired about his commander, and one of the many reasons he willingly followed the man’s lead, trusting his judgment, something crucial in their line of work.

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