There is no room for her in his life . . .
Hard-hearted, Ray Smith has sworn never to fall in love again. Only, Marcie is slowly working her way under his skin. This woman has no place on the Squad. No place in his life.
Passions burn as bright as the fires they fight . . .
But can their attraction survive constant doubts, a misunderstanding and the threat of a maniac arsonist bent on murdering them both?
A Heated Encounter . . .
"O'Dwyer, you look different," Smith said, actually initiating a
conversation with her.
"I left my helmet home."
"Jeez! Can't you ever be serious?"
"It's hard since I never leave home without my sarcastic wit. Besides,
I never know what kind of mood you're going to be in."
"I just wanted to say I like what you've done with yourself."
She shrugged. He didn't have to know how hard she'd worked to get that
way. "All I did was put on a dress and apply some makeup."
"Well, it looks nice. You look like a . . . a real . . . woman."
Like the excruciatingly shrill screech of chalk scratching a
blackboard, he'd gone and pressed the wrong buttons, as usual, causing
something to short-circuit in Marcie's head. Before she could stop
herself, her eyes narrowed to slits and her nostrils flared with fury
as she spewed, "I knew you'd say something sexist like that."
"Damn, O'Dwyer. That's not how I meant it," Smith replied angrily.
Visibly gritting his teeth, he replied, "Really!"
By this time, every eye at the table was watching, every ear
listening, as though the two of them had forgotten where they were.
Marcie ignored everyone and turned completely around in her chair to
look him squarely in the eye. However she saw no defiance or anger.
Instead she saw something she'd never seen in his eyes before. Had he
actually been telling the truth? Could he be capable of giving a woman
an honest compliment? She wasn't certain how to respond. For the sake
of the others at the table, she chose to believe him and go from
"To tell the truth, Smith, I wasn't sure how you meant it. I mean,
we're not on what you would call the best of terms."
"True. However we're at a wedding, O'Dwyer. Try to be civil."
"Civ—" The nerve of that man. She was about to blow again when Smith
placed a finger on her lips. Lucky for him, she didn't try to bite it