Hot as Sin (Hot Shots: Men of Fire #2)(28)
Author: Bella Andre

And that was just the problem: She wanted to. Badly. Even when they’d been fighting only hours before, he was still the one she wanted to run to for comfort.

And for pleasure.

She’d never been able to resist him, not for one single second. She’d moved to San Francisco because if she’d stayed in Lake Tahoe, she would have inevitably returned to him, despite how empty, how broken their relationship had become.

Again and again while he breathed evenly beside her, Dianna considered waking him up and apologizing for the things she’d said after leaving the hospital. It wasn’t that she didn’t mean them, but lying awake in the dark with nothing to do but think, she realized she could have approached the confrontation differently. She hated knowing she hadn’t given him so much as an inch of space to respond to her grievances.

She’d been on the attack. Intent on full-on, outright damage.

And yet, amazingly, he’d come back to their room. After the way she’d ripped him to shreds, he hadn’t left her to search for April alone. Or taken off altogether.

If she hadn’t been able to push him away last night, then was there a chance that nothing she said or did was going to make him run? Did the fact that he was sleeping in the cramped sofa mean he’d changed?

Propping herself up in bed with the pillows, she watched him sleep soundly, his inhalations seemingly peaceful and even. All hotshots were trained to catch rest wherever they could, and it suddenly occurred to her that she didn’t know if he’d come straight from a fire to the hospital or even how long it had been since he’d been to bed.

Quite possibly, she realized as her stomach twisted into a tight knot, he hadn’t been alone in that bed.

He didn’t wear a ring, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dating someone. It didn’t mean he wasn’t getting ready to pop the question to some small, cute brunette who worshipped his every move and made him feel like a million bucks.

She hated to think of anyone else touching him. Kissing him.

Sam was a magical lover, paying special attention to every inch of a woman’s body, the curves and peaks, the hollows and sensitive spots. He was a woman’s ultimate dream come to life. Six foot two, tanned and hard all over, with blue eyes that grew lighter or darker with the sun or clouds, with the time of day, with what he was feeling. Women wanted big, strong hands like his on their bodies, wanted to run their fingers through his dark, silky hair.

Her breath came faster as she remembered their lovemaking in full detail, warmth creeping up her body, between her legs, to the tips of her br**sts.

It would be so easy to fall back into bed with him. Way too easy. But they would both only end up getting hurt again.

And yet, even as she remembered how difficult it had been to get over him, she was touched by his willingness to help her now. She hadn’t even had to ask him for help. He’d simply offered it. Even though finding April was potentially dangerous, he hadn’t backed off, hadn’t rescinded his offer.

She didn’t know what to think about Sam sticking with her. Was it simply that he was a hero through and through? Or had he stepped in because she needed him?

These questions ran on repeat through her brain again and again until sleep finally started to settle around her like a blanket.

It was pitch-black outside the thin motel curtains when he woke her up. “Will’s waiting for us. We’ll leave in fifteen minutes.”

She rolled off the bed, took her small medicine bag into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and applied the tiniest bit of makeup. Sam had always taken his good looks for granted, whereas she’d had to uncover hers and cultivate her appearance so that people would treat her in a way that came naturally to the gorgeous firefighter.

She’d sensed his disapproval at her transformation when he’d walked into her hospital room and saw her in cashmere with diamond studs in her ears. She wasn’t going to apologize to him for who she’d become. She’d built a good life for herself and April through plenty of hard work. No one had handed anything to her on a silver platter.

Nonetheless, she enjoyed the rare chance to wear minimal makeup. Although she hadn’t let anyone in public see her without her game face on for a decade, she much preferred bare skin. It was how she’d grown up and she felt younger, softer somehow.

Ten minutes later she emerged dressed in her new clothes, a lightweight long-sleeve shirt, khaki cargo pants, and shiny brown leather boots that squeaked a little as she walked. The only purchases she’d left in the plastic bag were the sports bra and cotton panties. She’d never been a cotton girl and she was wearing her regular silk and lace undergarments.

Sam’s eyes widened when he saw her, and she pushed back her shoulders and lifted her chin. She’d thought the outfit was pretty cute, but she’d been wearing different versions of the same thing for so long, it felt strange to put on something completely different. Almost as if she’d shed a layer of skin and stepped into a new, unfamiliar one.

“Everything fit okay?”

She would have expected him to have forgotten what size she wore by now, but he’d remembered exactly, all the way down to her size nine boots. A rogue butterfly flew loose in her belly at the thought of their intimate past, and the realization that he hadn’t forgotten about her any more than she had him.

“Perfectly,” she said, and then, “I haven’t thanked you yet for buying everything for me. Thank you.”

She was usually the queen of thank-you cards, of hostess gifts. But Sam made her flustered. Awkward.

“I want you to know I’m going to pay you back for everything.”

Dianna wasn’t comfortable with letting a man buy her things. For the past ten years, she’d always paid her own way—and oftentimes her dates’ as well.

“I don’t think I have enough cash in my purse, but—”

He grabbed their packs and headed to the door in the middle of her sentence.

“I can cover it,” he said, his voice suddenly hard.

Well, that was about as clear as it got. She assumed he was still angry from the night before and she knew she needed to apologize for her mudslinging right away. But he was already halfway across the parking lot and she had to jog to catch up with him.

“Sam, I—” she began when she got her breath back, but when she looked up, his hotshot friend was waiting for them outside the back entrance of the hospital, leaning against the bumper of his truck. There was no way she could explain things in front of his friend, Will.