CHAPTER TEN
Rachel had just dozed off when somewhere in the depths of her subconscious she swore she heard a telephone ring, but her brain refused to let her believe it. Instead, peaceful REM patterns took over and returned her to a warm, dream-filled cocoon.
And then the obnoxious noise intruded again.
Why didn't someone answer the ringing beast? Rachel groaned and forced herself awake enough to realize the noise came from the phone on a table beside the bed.
Half irritated, she rolled over and answered. "Hello?"
"Miss Newberry?"
Rachel sat up, rubbed one eye with her free hand, then glanced at the clock next to the phone. 2:00 a.m. "Yes?"
"Sorry to bother you, Ma'am, but this is the Diablo Fire Department central dispatch. There's been a fire in the Pacific Valley Heights addition. It's one of yours."
Rachel didn't give the dispatcher time to explain any further. She mumbled a quick thank you, slammed down the phone and sprung from bed.
Minutes later, Rachel crammed the car in park, shoved open the door, and sprinted toward the smoldering structure. Heat penetrated her pores as tiny bits of ash fell from the night sky like snowflakes and stuck to her sweat-dampened skin.
"Rachel!"
Rachel only vaguely recognized her name as she came to an involuntary abrupt stop when she bounced off ahard-bodied fireman in her path.
"You can't go any closer."
She lifted her now-watering, burning eyes to see Rick Martinelli slide his helmet from his head.
"How did this happen?"
Rick brushed his forearm across his forehead then wedged the helmet between one arm and one hip. "We don't know for sure yet."
She dug deep for patience. "Guess, Rick."
"Arson."
"Why?"
"No way to know."
"How extensive is the damage?"
"Total."
Rachel fumbled for her cell phone then realized she left it behind. "I need to call Hawke."
"He's on his way. The captain made the call. "Rick handed her his helmet and then shrugged out of his jacket. The scent of burning wood assaulted her nostrils.
"Here, put this on."
She frowned. "You'll need that, won't you?"
Rick shook his head. "Fire's out. I won't be going back in." He gave her a lopsided grin. "Besides, I'm not standing out here in my nightie."
Rachel gasped, thrust the helmet back at him, and grabbed the coat. "Thank you."
Rick replaced his helmet. "You're welcome." Rick turned and headed back toward a row of fire trucks. After several steps, he tossed her a wink over his shoulder. "By the way, I always appreciated your legs."
Rachel gave him a weak smile, squeezed the coat tighter around her, and then glanced back at the area where Hawke's house had begun to take shape. Absolutely nothing had been spared by the angry flames.
"Oh my God."
Rachel flinched at the sound of Cameron's voice beside her. She tucked several pieces of hair behind her ear." At least it was just the frame."
Cameron nodded. "Yeah, but still, who in their right mind would do something like this?"
Rachel could only shrug.
"And how did they get in here?" Cameron demanded.
Rachel paused to analyze Cameron's comment. An iron privacy fence surrounded the neighborhood. The only way in was either through the front entrance and past a security officer or over the top of the fence.
"I suppose they could've climbed over," Rachel mumbled.
"Maybe."
Rachel stole a glance at Cameron, dressed in a cute yellow sundress and matching sandals. She groaned and pulled Rick's coat closed.
Cameron tapped her on the shoulder. "Care to explain why your jacket has Martinelli on the back?"
Rachel swallowed hard and opened the coat. "When the dispatcher called me, I hurried over."
Cameron giggled. "You forgot your shoes too."
Rachel looked down at the bedroom slippers on her feet, the ones with yellow smiley faces all over them. She gave Cameron a sideways grin. "I told you, I was in a hurry. I see you took time to dress."
Cameron grunted. "I didn't have a choice. The booming voice on the other end of my phone call told me to quote, Get dressed and get the hell over here so you wouldn't be alone, end quote."
Rachel bit her lip to stifle a giggle. "Max?"
"The one and only. It's probably only a matter of seconds before he blows in here."
Rachel glanced at the now scorched area. "Surely they can clear this out tomorrow."
"Um, Rachel." Cameron waved a hand in front of Rachel's face. "Does Hawke know about you and Rick Martinelli?"
"No, we didn't discuss past relationships." She shrugged. "Besides, his list is longer than mine."
"Yeah, but he's not walking toward you with one of his conquests, just yours."
Still distracted by the ashy carnage in front of her, Rachel didn't bother to respond. Her relationship with Rick was the furthest thing from her mind. Until Cameron spoke again.
"Well, if it isn't Mr. August."
Rachel moved her gaze to focus on the three men who now stood next to her. Max appeared his business-as-usual self. Rick shook his head at Cameron's introduction. Hawke appeared very interested in Cameron's greeting.
He raised an eyebrow. "Who's Mr. August?"
After a few awkward seconds of silence, Rick cleared his throat. "That would be me."
Instinct told Rachel she should explain before the conversation took a dangerous U-turn, except just as she opened her mouth, Max folded his arms across his chest and took control of the conversation.
He turned to Cameron. "Does your mother know you look at that stuff?"
Someone sucked in a short breath. Someone else, most likely Rick, muffled a curse.
Cool as a cucumber, Cameron just grinned. "I only read the articles."
Rather than stop right there, Max poked Cameron again. "Care to share what you've learned?"
Rachel placed both fingers to her temples. "Stop! Please. Nobody reads anything like that." She turned to glare at Cameron. "At least I don't think so. Rick volunteered to pose for a fireman calendar."
Obviously amused, Hawke grinned. "What about the other eleven months?"
"My crew," Rick mumbled.
Rachel gave an impatient huff and desperately tried to redirect the conversation. Especially since Hawke now stood beside her and she couldn't help but picture him oiled and glistening. "Max, what about the fire?"
"The investigator will call me tomorrow. Everything's still too hot to search."
Although disappointed, Rachel already suspected as much.
"Okay, then." Cameron jingled her car keys. "Since we've all discussed my reading preference and the fire is out, I say we all call it a night. Besides, Rachel's not dressed for conversation."
Rachel groaned. "Thanks, Cameron."
Hawke's eyes widened. "You're not?"
"I left in a hurry." Rachel folded her arms across the front of Rick's coat.
Max shook his head and followed Rick back toward the fire engine.
"Want me to follow you home?" Cameron twirled her keys around her fingers.
"Thanks, but I'll be fine."
Cameron looked at Hawke then back at Rachel. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Come on," Hawke said from beside her, "I'll walk you to your car."
Rachel felt Hawke's hand press against the small of her back. Even through the heavy, thick coat, electric shocks of desire ran the length of her body. She led him across the cleared area planned for the house and into a clump of trees where she'd parked her Mercedes.
Hawke stopped and looked around the grassy area. "How'd you get in here?"
Rachel pointed at a thicket of trees opposite them. "There's a gate on the other side. Originally, I toyed with the idea that this might make a good point for a private entrance. Now I'm convinced."
"You really thought this out, didn't you?"
"Apparently not." The realization that someone might have entered the property through this entrance didn't make her happy. "Why would someone do this? You have any enemies?"
"Probably," he said without hesitation, "but maybe it's not actually arson. The fire chief told Max this is the first fire they've had in this addition."
"Rick's hardly ever wrong," Rachel mumbled.
Hawke leaned against the driver's side door and shot her that sexy smirk again. The one that made her think naked. "You seem to have a lot of faith in Mr. August."
Rachel entertained the thought of telling Hawke about Rick, but then decided against it. She was too distracted to explain. How could one man make her wiggle with just a look? "We've been friends a long time."
Her heartbeat gave a hard thump and she braced herself for his interrogation, readily prepared to tell him only what was necessary. Instead, he reached out, grasped the front of her coat, and pulled her against him. Her heartbeat kicked up a couple more notches.
"So, since you're parked in the middle of these trees, why don't you slide out of this coat and I'll return it on my way back to the Suburban?"
Rachel opened her mouth, fully intent on issuing a polite thanks-but-no-thanks, and then the finely strung threads of her restraint snapped.
"I don't have much on underneath," she whispered.
He raised a hand and caressed the side of her face with his knuckles. "Show me."
Empowered by his touch, Rachel knew she was a goner. Suddenly, nothing mattered more than pleasing the man in front of her. No more denial, no doubt, no regret.
She took a small step backward, her body cursing the separation, and unbuttoned each button of the coat. Once open, she shrugged each shoulder. The coat fell to the grass.
She stood morbidly still, watching him scan the length of her body now clad only in a white silk nightgown that barely touched the tops of her knees. His eyes glowed like fireflies in the darkness.
"C'mere, baby."
Rachel returned to the circle of his arms and thought she might possibly combust. Even the summer night breeze that moved the silk against her torso couldn't cool her. Braced against her car in the moonlight with his shirt fully open this time, Hawke posed as her own personal Adonis, poised for her touch. She rested her hands against the corded muscles of his chest and hoped that touching him would take the edge off her desire.
Her breath hitched when he ran his palm under the edge of her nightgown and up her bare left thigh until he rested his hand at one hip.
"If I would've known you'd come dressed like this, I'd have started a fire days ago."
His familiar rasp started a needy ache between her legs. God, his voice did things to her. His fingers began a circular motion on her abdomen. Butterflies danced under her skin.
Rachel couldn't even put two words together to formulate some sort of response, all too aware that his touch made her very, very stupid for the moment. Then his lips touched the sensitive skin of her neck and all conversation escaped her. She released a groan and pressed herself tighter against him.
The hard length of him stretched against her stomach and suddenly she couldn't get close enough.
She moved her hands from his chest, feeling her way down his abdomen and across the carved indentions of his obliques. Desperate to feel what she already knew to be pure temptation, she tucked her fingers into the top of his jeans, making sure to press herself against his thighs as she grazed the tender skin beneath.
Hawke released a muffled curse and reached between them to pop the top button of his pants as he nipped the top of her shoulder. Rachel let a smile split her lips, encouragedby his obvious desperation. She pushed his hand to the side and moved hers inside his pants to squeeze the bulge between his legs. He groaned and thrust his hips into her touch.
His reaction set her body ablaze and her breathing became labored.
"Hawke," she panted, "touch me."
He lifted his lips from the top of her shoulder and moved them to the tender skin behind her ear. "Tell me where, sweetheart."
His lips continued their assault on the pleasure point behind her ear and she stood, melting like a stick of butter, attempting to decide which body part he should touch. A decision she couldn't possibly make at this particular moment.
"Somewhere," she said over a sigh.
He gave a low, husky laugh and moved his hands from her midsection to slide each spaghetti strap of her gown down each shoulder until he exposed the tops of her breasts. Hawke placed a soft kiss on her lips, cupped a breast in each hand, and then licked over the swollen rise of flesh. Rachel gasped, pressed herself further into his touch, and tightened her hold on his shaft. Determined to make him as crazy as she, Rachel stroked the length from top to bottom and back again.
A low, feral growl left his lips and he released her long enough to unwrap her fingers. "Easy, honey."
He placed her hands back against his chest and then eased the silk from her breasts until her nipples stood at attention, begging for his touch.
"Beautiful," he moaned.
Rachel gasped when he bent and took one nipple in his mouth. Pure brazen wanton desire took control of her body as his tongue swirled over the tender flesh. She began to tingle between her legs. She wound her fingers through his hair and urged him to take more of her. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears and her head spun until she thought she'd leave the ground. And then the tingling turned into vibration.
Rachel couldn't have stopped if her life depended on it. Her body and the song it now sang belonged to Hawke.
He placed a tender kiss on the peak of one nipple then took the other between his lips. The vibration now became a full-fledged hum and all she could do was hold on. Several short whimpers left her lips and she tightened her hold on his hair. Fireworks exploded behind her eyelids and she struggled to breathe.
Hawke raised his head and gave her a very heated, testosterone-injected smile. "Did you just ...?"
Much too satisfied to deny her reaction, she released a contented sigh. "Oh yes I did."
Before he could answer, the sound of someone clearing their throat broke the tender moment. Rachel's eyes widened and time stood still. She glanced down at her now naked, extremely sensitive breasts and then back up at Hawke.
Hawke pulled her flush against him. "I'll be right there, Max."
Rachel released a whoosh of air from her lungs. Only Max. This time. Still somewhat hidden in the shadow of Hawke's body, she replaced the straps of her nightgown on her shoulders and eased her breasts back inside the silk.
"You know," she said into the stillness, "only ten percent of women ever experience that particular sensation. You're very talented."
Hawke laughed softly and planted a kiss in the valley of her cleavage. "Come to the hotel with me," he said against her heated skin.
For the first time in a very long time, Rachel wanted to kick caution in the teeth. Her body screamed for her to agree. Her heart assured her it was safe with Hawke. And then the mad scientist in her brain took control.
"Not this time," she whispered.
Hawke lifted his head. "No?"
She shook her head and struggled for the right words. "I'm just not ready."
His lips twitched. "I'm pretty sure you're more than ready."
Rachel gave a half laugh. "Yes, well, I think we both know that's true, but I'm not sure spending the night with you is a good idea."
He placed one hand on her hip and gently tapped her temple with his free hand. "Whatever you're fighting in there is extremely annoying."
"Tell me about it," she mumbled.
"Okay, so if you won't put me out of my misery tonight, will you at least let me take you to the hospital gala?"
Rachel frowned. "How do you know about that?"
"I have a ticket."
"How do you know I do?"
He cocked his head to one side but didn't answer.
"Max," she murmured.
Hawke drew her into his arms and kissed her forehead. "Say yes, Rachel."
She gave him a gentle smile and traced the edge of his jaw with her index finger. "Yes."
He placed his lips to hers in one last, lingering kiss and then released her to scoop the coat from the ground. "I'll return this for you. Do you want Max to follow you home?"
She sat in the driver's seat, tempted to tell him she'd just follow him to the hotel. "No, thank you, Hawke."
Hawke tossed the coat over one shoulder. "Call me if you change your mind."
She frowned. "About the gala?"
His low, husky snicker filled the heated distance between them just before he answered.
"No."