Flirting With Fire--3 Book Box Set Read online

  Flirting With Fire

  Mr. November

  Trapped!

  An Honourable Man

  Lori Foster

  www.millsandboon.com.au

  Table of Contents

  Mr. November

  By Lori Foster

  Trapped!

  By Lori Foster

  An Honourable Man

  By Lori Foster

  MR. NOVEMBER

  Lori Foster

  www.millsandboon.com.au

  “I love kissing you,” Amanda said

  Josh’s eyes darkened and with her gaze snared in his, he very slowly brought his hand up over her waist to her ribs, then higher, just below her left breast. Her heart galloped in anticipation and excitement.

  “You liked me touching you, too, didn’t you?” he asked.

  Breath catching, Amanda murmured, “Yes.”

  He leaned down, his mouth touched hers, and his hot palm slid up and over her until he held her breast. His long fingers were gentle, molding over her, weighing her, caressing. Against her mouth, he said, “I’ve always loved breasts.”

  A laugh caught Amanda by surprise, even as she closed her eyes to absorb more of his touch. “As I understand it,” she breathed, “most men do.”

  “Some of us like them more than others.” And he growled, “Damn, you have great breasts.”

  It was the most absurd conversation she could have imagined. Josh touched her nipple, and her voice broke as she said, “Thank you.”

  Dear Reader,

  The second book in Temptation’s MEN TO THE RESCUE miniseries is about the unlikely but sexy coupling of Josh Marshall and Amanda Barker. She wants the macho firefighter to pose for a calendar…but Mr. November wants a whole lot more!

  When I first conceived the idea for Josh Marshall, the male protagonist in Mr. November, I never thought I’d actually get to chat with his real-life counterpart! But then I went online, to order a calendar—to www.firefighterscalendar.com—filled with sexy heroic firemen—for…inspiration. Okay, seriously, I wanted to see what the firefighter gear looked like. Really.

  Lieutenant Espinosa, from the City of Hialeah Fire Rescue, contacted me about delivery. You see, the calendar is his pet project, begun in 1993. I couldn’t pass up on the chance for information and I mercilessly picked his brain for every little detail.

  The firsthand accounts on being a firefighter and organizing the calendar were priceless. I hope you’ll all go to the Web site and check it out. The new calendars are now ready and wowza—what a wonderful way to mark the days, and add to a very worthwhile charity at the same time!

  Be safe everyone, and happy reading!

  Lori Foster

  P.S. If you missed my first MEN TO THE RESCUE title, look for Temptation #852, Treat Her Right, an October release. And don’t forget my Harlequin single title that started it all—Caught in the Act—published in September and available in your favorite bookstore now.

  To Lt. Espinosa for incredible inspiration,

  insight and research information.

  Not only does he risk his life for the community, he went one further and organized a charity calendar to benefit others—and still found time to answer all my questions. I’m sure I’m not alone in my sincere gratitude to him for all he does.

  Here’s to firefighters everywhere—

  a truly heroic service. Our thanks!

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  1

  Josh

  WITH GREAT INTEREST, Amanda Barker peeked into the locker room. She’d been at the fire station—hounding him—many times, but she’d never ventured into this private area.

  There was a partitioned off shower area adjacent to the room, and steam from recent use still crept around the ceiling, leaving the air damp and thick. A few of the lockers stood open and empty. Discarded white towels littered the floor, the benches and an array of varnished wooden chairs. Amanda wrinkled her nose. The room smelled of men and smoke, soap and sweat.

  Except for the smoke, it wasn’t an unpleasant odor.

  On the far wall, opposite the door she’d entered, a framed copy of the Firefighter’s Prayer hung slightly askew, droplets of water beading on the glass cover. Next to that, a plaque reading Always Loved, Never Forgotten, listed local firefighters who had died in community service.

  Amanda drew a shaky breath and crept inside. The prayer drew her and she found herself standing in front of it, reading words she already knew by heart.

  Enable me to be alert, and hear the weakest shout, and quickly and efficiently to put the fire out. She touched the glass covering those incredible words, wiping away the moisture. She dropped her hand and turned away, troubled as always whenever she remembered.

  With self-taught discipline, she shook off the familiar feelings and surveyed her surroundings.

  The locker room and connecting showers appeared empty, but she knew he was in there. The watchman had told her so—had even given her permission to go in, smiling all the while, ready to conspire with her to get their most infamous lieutenant to finally cooperate.

  Behind her in the main rooms, she heard firefighters talking, laughing as the new shift arrived and the others headed home. They were a flirtatious lot, sometimes crude, always macho and fun loving to counteract the heavy responsibilities of their jobs. They were also in prime condition, lean and hard, thanks to rigorous physical training.

  They all looked good, and they all knew it. With only one exception, they were willing—even eager—to help her out with the charity calendar by posing for various months. The money they made selling the calendar would benefit the local burn institute.

  Amanda hoped none of the men came in behind her; it was past time she and Josh Marshall got things settled. Since the start of the project he’d refused to take part and avoided her whenever she tried to convince him. He even failed to return her calls.

  The man was bullheaded and selfish and she intended to tell him so, but she didn’t want an audience. Confrontations were not her thing. In fact, she avoided them whenever possible.

  He wouldn’t let her avoid this one.

  Much as she hated to admit it, she needed Josh Marshall. She needed him to understand the importance of what she hoped to do, and then she needed his agreement to take part in her newest charity effort. While it was true all the men looked good, Josh Marshall looked better than good. He looked great. Sexy. Hot. He’d make the perfect Mr. November and the perfect model for the cover. They’d use him in advertising in local papers, bookstores and on the Web.

  One way or another, Amanda intended to get his agreement today.

  A muted sound, like the padding of bare feet on wet concrete, reached her ears. She turned and there he stood, all six-feet-plus of him. Casual as you please, a man without a care, he leaned in the doorframe. His blond hair was wet, his muscles were wet and the skimpy towel barely hooked around his lean hips was wet.

  Slow rivulets of water dripped over his chest and through his body hair, slinking down his ridged abdomen and into the towel. He had his arms and ankles crossed. The towel parted, and one bare hairy thigh was exposed all the way to the lighter skin of his hip, up to the insubstantial knot in the towel. It wouldn’t take much more than a very tiny tug to remove that towel.

  She’d seen him in his lieutenant’s uniform, she’d seen him hot and sweaty fresh from a fire, and she’d seen him relaxe
d, sitting around the station, on duty but not occupied.

  She’d never seen him mostly naked and it was definitely…an eye-opener.

  Amanda stood a little straighter and met his gaze. She had to tip her head back because he stood so much taller than she did. At only five feet four inches, she was used to that and refused to let it bother her now, just because the man was mostly naked and trying to bother her. She said, “Lieutenant Marshall.”

  His dark green eyes, so often remote in her presence, now looked her over, starting at her dress pumps and advancing to her soft pink suit and up to the small pearl studs in her ears. He gave a crooked smile and sauntered three steps to a locker. “Ms. Barker.” He opened the locker and pulled out a bottle of cologne, splashing a bit in his hands, then patting his face and throat.

  His scent overrode that of the smoke, and Amanda breathed him in, all warm damp skin, clean soap and that dark, earthy scent he’d just added. She recognized it from previous contact, but now was different. Now his big body was mostly bare.

  Her nostrils quivered and she took an involuntary step back, bumping into the wall.

  Of course, he noticed; his smile told her so, the glitter in his dark green eyes told her so. She held her breath, waiting to see what he’d say, how he’d mock her, and instead he reached for a comb. He turned to face her fully while tidying his hair. “How’d you get in here, anyway?”

  Never in her life had she watched a man groom himself. Josh Marshall…well, it was unexpected. The heavy muscles in his raised arms flexed and bulged as he dragged the black comb straight back through his wet hair. She could see his underarms and the soft, darker hair there. Her heart bumped into her ribs with startling force. Somehow, that part of Josh seemed more intimate than his exposed thighs and abdomen.

  “Cat got your tongue?” He reached for a T-shirt, which he pulled on over his head with casual disregard for the hair he’d just combed. The front of the shirt read: Firefighters Find ’Em Hot—and Leave ’Em Wet.

  Her pulse raced and she had to clear her throat before she could speak coherently. “The watchman let me in so we could talk.”

  “You’re a persistent little thing, aren’t you?”

  She ignored the sexist comment even as she acknowledged it for truth; she was persistent, and she was most certainly little. “You haven’t returned any of my calls.”

  “No, I haven’t, have I?” His deep voice held only mild interest in her visit. “Ever wonder why?”

  As he asked that, he lifted out a pair of black cotton boxers and she just barely had time to avert her face before he pulled the towel away.

  Cheeks scalding, Amanda gave him her back. “You’re being stubborn.”

  “Actually, I was trying to be direct. I don’t want to do the calendar, so there’s no point in wasting my time or yours.”

  “But I need you.”

  Amanda felt the pause, his utter stillness in response to her words, and wanted to bite off her own tongue. Instead, she asked impatiently, “Are you decent?”

  He gave a short laugh. “Never.”

  “I meant…” She wanted to groan, she wanted to ask him why he had to taunt her and be so impossible. But that wouldn’t win him over so she drew a breath and asked instead, “Have you got your pants on?”

  “Yeah.”

  She turned, and saw he’d only been half-truthful. He wore his boxers and the T-shirt, but that was all. Even sitting on the bench, his jeans next to him, he looked more manly than any man she knew. His large hands were braced on the bleached wood of the bench at either side of his hips, his powerful thighs casually sprawled, his gaze direct.

  Amanda could see the bulge of his sex in his underwear and found herself staring. It was a contrast, the sight of that soft, cuddled weight when the rest of him was so hard and lean.

  “Should I take them back off?”

  She jerked her gaze to his face and asked stupidly, “What?”

  “The underwear.” His voice was silky, the words and meaning hot. “I can skin them off if you wanna get a better look.”

  She started to laugh to cover her embarrassment over being caught, except that he looked serious. Was he enough of a reprobate to do as he suggested? One look into those intense green eyes and she knew the answer was an unequivocal yes.

  In fact, he looked…anxious to do so.

  She’d allowed things to get way out of hand. “Lieutenant—”

  “Why don’t you call me Josh? Being as you just stroked me with those pretty brown eyes, I feel we’re on more personal terms now.”

  “No.” Amanda shook her head. “I apologize for the staring. It was dreadful of me, I admit it, and I promise you it won’t happen again. But I prefer to keep things professional.”

  “Oh, but that won’t do.” Josh stood and that damn crooked smile warned her that she wouldn’t like what was about to come next.

  She edged to the side, ready to escape him, and banged into an open locker. Her high heels threw her off balance and she nearly fell before catching herself. Josh didn’t give her time to be embarrassed over her lack of grace. He stalked her, his gaze locked onto hers as he closed in, refusing to let her look away.

  He came right up to her and crowded her back until the only air she could breathe was heated and scented by his big body, until the only thing she could see was his broad hard chest in that dark T-shirt.

  Flattening his hands on the locker at either side of her head, he caged her in. His thick wrists, incredibly hot, touched her temples.

  “Lieutenant…” Amanda seldom panicked anymore; the feelings had been tempered by seven years of distance. But at the moment, panic seemed her wisest choice.

  “Uh-uh,” he murmured, “none of that.” Very slowly, suggestively, he leaned down, making her think he might kiss her and bringing her very close to a scream.

  She froze, her heartbeat skipping, her pulse racing. One second, two… The kiss never came and a riot of emotions bombarded her, none of them easily distinguishable except relief and a faint feeling of disappointment. He made a small sound of surprise, as if she’d somehow taken him off guard, and her damn knees went weak.

  His nose touched her neck and he inhaled deeply.

  Amanda quivered. “What are you doing?”

  “I’ve decided how I’m going to handle you, Amanda.” His hot breath brushed her ear, sending gooseflesh up and down her spine. She was aware of the cool contrast of his damp hair grazing her cheek.

  Handle her? She couldn’t move a single inch without touching him somewhere. She held very still. “What are you talking about?”

  He tilted his head away to smile into her shocked face. Watching her with heavy eyes and a load of expectation, he said, “I want you in my bed.”

  Her mouth fell open.

  No, surely he hadn’t just said… But he had! He’d actually suggested… Amanda laughed. Such a ridiculous, ludicrous…

  Shaking her head, she managed to say, “No, you really don’t.”

  He looked a little confounded by her reaction. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes to study her. “Now there’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart. You’ve been pursuing me—”

  “For a charity event!”

  “—for over a month now. I decided it was time I did the pursuing. And once I thought of it, I couldn’t think of anything else.” His gaze wandered over her face, and landed on her mouth. He leaned in again. “Damn, you smell good.”

  Of all the bizarre things that could have happened, Amanda hadn’t expected this one. Josh Marshall coming on to her? A man who wouldn’t normally look at her without frowning, a man who only told her ‘no,’ when he bothered to tell her anything at all?

  Her reserve melted away, replaced by the unshakable facade of apathy she’d built years ago. Josh Marshall didn’t matter to her, so he couldn’t hurt her. No one could.

  Her heart now safely concealed, her mind clear, she put both hands on Josh’s chest to lever him back.

  He allowed her
the small distance.

  Hoping she sounded reasonable, she said, “Lieutenant, you can trust me on this one, okay? You don’t want me. You’re not in the least interested in me.”

  “I didn’t think so at first, either.” His hands covered hers, keeping them snug against his chest. Under the circumstances, she barely registered the firm muscles, the heat of his skin through the soft cotton and the relaxed thumping of his heart. “But as I said, I’ve changed my mind.”

  Gently, because she hoped to nip his outlandish plan in the bud without causing any hard feelings between them, she said, “Then unchange it, Lieutenant. Really.”

  He looked a little baffled by her response to his come-on. She nearly smirked. No doubt most women would have been simpering, eager to get to know him better, excited by the prospect of sharing his bed.

  Amanda shuddered. She didn’t waste her time on impossible dreams, and she definitely didn’t waste it on men. Not in that way.

  The reasons behind her behavior didn’t matter. What mattered was that Josh Marshall not pursue her. That scenario would only agitate them both.

  He lifted a hand to her cheek and gently stroked with his fingertips. His gaze appeared troubled, concerned and sympathetic. In a voice barely above a whisper, he asked, “What are you so afraid of?”

  Amanda almost fell over. Her throat closed and her knees stiffened. No! He couldn’t possibly see her fear. She kept it well hidden and buried so deep, no one, not even her family, ever saw it. Men accused her of being frigid, gay, a total bitch…but none of them ever noticed the gnawing fear she lived with.

  “Shh. It’s all right. I just didn’t know.” Josh continued to touch her, and then he stepped away. Not far, but at least she could breathe. He stared into her widened eyes and said with a mix of gentleness and determination, “Whatever it is, Amanda, we’ll go slow. I promise.”