Heatwave (4 page)

“And let Grandy excuse the incidents as insignificant little nuisances? Not a chance.” Her big soulful
eyes filled with determination that matched the firmness of her tone. “Besides, any investigation performed by the fire department is a matter of public record. Which translates to you not being in danger of breaching confidentiality laws by telling me what’s been going on around here. If someone is trying to hurt my grandmother, then I have a right to know.”

She had him there. “What makes you think someone else is responsible?”

Her mouth formed a perfectly shaped “O” before her gaze narrowed. “You can’t possibly believe an eighty-year-old woman is responsible for setting those fires? That’s absolutely insane.”

He leaned back in the chair, enjoying the heat in her voice a whole lot more than was prudent. She was, after all, carrying another man’s child, which classified Emily as strictly taboo, no matter how much she intrigued him. A guy did need to have his standards, and lusting after another man’s woman went against his own set of values. Unless the guy had indeed pulled a disappearing act.

“Is it?” he asked. “Have you taken a good look around? This place is falling apart.”

“That does not mean my grandmother is an arsonist!”

He shrugged and bit back a smile. Too bad such an exciting woman was off-limits.
Maybe
off-limits.

“Yes, it could, especially if the property is heavily mortgaged and she wants out. Believe me, Emily. People start fires for a variety of reasons, and a huge pay-off
by their insurance company to get out from under a large debt is right there at the top of the list.”

“Well, not in this case,” she retorted. “Grandy and Pop paid off the property years ago.”

“Do you know for certain she’s never mortgaged it?”

“No,” she admitted. “I don’t. Not for certain, but it’s highly unlikely. Grandy would never risk the school or her home.”

Deep down, he agreed with her. Velma Norris hardly came across as the criminal type: she appeared to be quite sharp and seemed to be a savvy businesswoman despite her advanced age. Yet, the subject still required a thorough investigation, if for no other reason than to clear her of any wrongdoing.

“Drew, would you please tell me what’s going on?”

He sat forward and braced his arms on the table. “As I said, today was the third incident. The first fire happened about two weeks ago and looked to be nothing more than a grease fire that had flared out of control in one of the classrooms. No one was hurt, but according to your grandmother, the classroom was deserted when the fire started. It looked like someone had accidentally spilled grease beneath the top of the range and it was ignited by a faulty pilot light.”

“That doesn’t make much sense,” Emily said as she began to stack their dirty dishes. “Grandy has those ranges checked by the gas company once a month to prevent something like that from happening.”

He filed that information away for later, and made a
note to contact the gas company to check out the service records.

“Last week the department received a call from a neighbor who spotted smoke billowing from the back of the school. Those charred crates you noticed behind the building? They were filled with old newspapers. A lit cigarette was the cause.”

Emily stood and carried the dishes to the sink. “Grandy doesn’t smoke,” she said, turning on the tap. “Couldn’t it have just been an accident? A careless student maybe?”

Drew pushed away from the table and joined Emily at the sink. At least standing next to her he wasn’t quite as prone to sit and ogle the seductive curve of her derriere. “I might believe that if the cigarette had been tossed on the top. But this was tucked inside in a way that leads me to believe it was intentional.”

He took the dish towel Emily handed him before she sank her hands into the soapy water. “The fire today was the most obvious. Someone took the time to coat the trash bin with cooking oil then set a rag on fire and toss it inside. Your grandmother didn’t realize there was something smoldering inside the bin and when she opened it, oxygen fed the flames. She could’ve been seriously injured.”

Emily glanced up and handed him a plate to dry. “All of which should eliminate her as a suspect, don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “Unless she’s the one responsible.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Off the record, I have my doubts.”

“Doubts?” Her expression said loud and clear what she thought of his doubts. “Whatever happened to common sense?”

He set the dried plate on the counter, then lifted another from the drain board. “Every possibility has to be considered, Emily. She refuses to close the school despite my recommendation to do so. Someone is setting these fires, and until the firebug is apprehended, no one is above suspicion. Not even your grandmother.”

She let out another little breath and shifted her attention back to washing dishes. “I just can’t imagine who would do such a thing. Or why, for that matter. Grandy has to be one of the most generous, kindest people on the planet. Why would anyone want to hurt her?”

Any number of reasons, he thought to himself. Firebugs didn’t do things that made sense in the logical scheme of things, except in their own twisted minds where their actions were justified. So far only Velma had been present on the property when the fires started.

For obvious reasons, he didn’t like the idea of Emily and her grandmother staying alone with an arsonist on the loose, if Velma wasn’t the one responsible. He couldn’t very well move in with them until the culprit was apprehended. Besides, he didn’t get involved. Period. Saving damsels in distress had been Cale’s gig until Amanda had come into his life. Just because he had retired his white charger, didn’t mean it was Drew’s job to pick up where Cale had left off. Not a
chance. Drew was only staying the night because he’d been rendered temporarily insane.

Emily drained the sink and started putting the dishes he’d dried into the cabinets.

He crossed his ankles and leaned against the counter, enjoying the delectable view of her backside. “Mind if I ask how long you’re planning to visit?” he asked her.

She drew in a deep breath, effectively drawing his gaze to the rise and fall of her breasts. Her very full breasts.

“Initially, only one month.” After closing the cabinet, she turned to look at him. “Suddenly I find myself in not much of a hurry to return to New York.”

He nodded slowly, struggling to ignore the itch in his palms to feel the weight of her breasts against his hand. “The corporate downsizing?”

She braced her hands behind her and leaned against the gleaming countertop. “For starters. I think there’s a black cloud following me around.”

He chuckled when she wrinkled her nose in that cute way of hers. “It can’t be all that bad.”

A wry, self-deprecating grin curved her lips. “It’s a good thing I have a sense of humor because I definitely hit the double trifecta today. Not only am I out of a job, I got dumped—at the airport of all places—and since I gave up my rent-controlled apartment six months ago to move in with my now ex, I’m out of my home.”

She folded the dish towel and draped it over the drain board. “If that’s not enough to heap on one person within twenty-four hours,” she continued, “I also
discover I’m going to have a baby, my grandmother’s in the hospital and now you’re telling me that someone is trying to burn down her life’s work.” She shook her head and managed a short burst of laughter that held little humor. “I’m almost afraid to ask, what’s next?”

He wondered if she had any idea how her eyes brightened when she laughed. Or how his gut just tightened with need at her announcement that there was no longer a man in her life. Which could very well be a temporary situation for all he knew. Besides, once she told the guy about the baby, in Drew’s opinion, there was a pretty strong chance the guy would be back in her life again, provided he had any sense of responsibility.

“Wanna talk about it?” He resisted the ridiculous need to look out the kitchen window to see if a white steed was grazing nearby.

“And spread around my doom and gloom? Thanks, but no thanks.” She pushed off the counter. “I’ve had about as much as I can stand for one day.”

He flipped off the light switch and followed her out of the kitchen into the living room. “It’s not healthy to keep things inside.”

He’d bet his trust fund he’d just heard the clank of armor.

She sat in a wooden rocking chair near the fireplace and looked up at him. Curiosity filled her eyes. “Why are you being so nice to me? You don’t even know me. Obviously you’re not short on dates, so it’s not as if you’re hard up for female companionship.”

He winced at the reminder of his overloaded voice-mail
box. No answer—at least none he cared to admit—sprang to mind.

He shrugged, then took a seat on the sofa. “I made a promise,” he answered evasively. Not exactly the truth, but he sure didn’t want to tell her that, in his opinion, she far outranked those other women on the intelligence scale. And then, of course, he did enjoy her sense of humor. Better yet, she didn’t appear to want anything from him, either. From what he knew of her thus far, she didn’t strike him as the type of woman to play games and she most certainly said whatever was on her mind. Traits, he realized, that were downright refreshing.

“You made a promise to an emergency-room doctor you don’t even know, and to a woman you think could be an arson suspect. Really, Drew. You don’t have to do this. In fact, I’d feel more comfortable if you went home.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do. I’m not willing to be added to your collection.”

“Too bad,” he said, and damned if he didn’t mean it in spite of himself. Of course, nothing long-term. “I’m not leaving.”

“Don’t you have phone calls to return?”

The frown tugging her eyebrows together made her look cute and spunky. He’d dated cute plenty. He’d even had spunky, but never had he seen such a tempting, wicked combination.

He grinned in response.

She pushed out of the chair. “Suit yourself. There’s a
guest room across from mine. Make yourself at home.

I’m going to take a hot shower and go to bed.”

“Good night, Emily,” he called softly after her.

She muttered something that could’ve been a good-night, but he couldn’t say for certain.

Drew sat in the quiet of the living room until he heard the water running from the shower. He could call any number of women to satisfy his needs. But none of them interested him tonight. Not when he couldn’t seem to get his mind off the image of Emily’s slender body standing beneath the stinging spray, or the way her hot, moist skin would feel against his. He reached for the remote control and turned on the television. As far as Friday nights went, he couldn’t recall when he’d last spent a night watching the tube—alone—especially when there was a beautiful, exciting woman within reach.

Even if the woman occupying his thoughts was strictly off-limits.

Maybe.

“
H
MM
, D
REW
,” Emily whispered, then laced her fingers together behind his neck to pull his mouth down to hers for a hot, openmouthed, all-consuming kiss
.

Somewhere in her subconscious she understood she was lost inside a delicious dream, but the warmth of his lips against hers couldn’t be any more real than if she’d actually kissed him.

Her tongue sought and mated with his, while her body arched against the rough maleness of his bare skin. She breathed in his arousing scent, then moaned from the intoxicating wickedness of forbidden pleasure. He murmured something against her mouth. She shoved her hands into his hair and applied pressure to quiet him. If he stopped kissing her, she’d
…

“Wake up, Emily.”

Her eyes flew open, and she found herself nose to nose with Drew.

Uh-oh. What
had
she done?

Reality crashed into her. If there was a rock nearby, she’d certainly crawl beneath it and never come out again. Once she pulled her arms from around his neck, of course.

The deliciously wicked dream hadn’t been a figment
of her overly erotic subconscious at all, but instead deliciously wicked…and as real as it got!

Her lips were still warm and moist. Oh. Oh! What had she done? She’d kissed him, that’s what. And since her luscious dream had had more than an hint of reality coursing through it, he’d kissed her back, too.

Slowly, she lowered her arms and muttered an apology. If he didn’t have her trapped between his gloriously wide
naked
chest and the mattress, she would’ve scooted as far away from him as humanly possible.

She didn’t think she’d ever been more horrified in her life than to awaken to discover that her hot and sexy dream, starring a hot and sexy arson inspector, hadn’t been a dream at all. Her only hope, and an excruciatingly slim one at that, was that he had no idea she’d actually been dreaming about
him
.

She flopped back against the mound of pillows and slapped her hand over her eyes. “God, I am so sorry,” she said more clearly this time. “I don’t know what…” She peeped at him through her fingers and frowned. “Wait a minute.” It was one thing for her subconscious to go all gaga over a man she hardly knew, but quite another when he showed up in her bed—half-naked and uninvited. “What are you doing in here anyway?”

“We have to go.”

“Go?” She’d been on her way to heaven when he’d woken her.

He nodded and shoved a lock of mussed hair from his eyes. Lord, he looked rumpled and sexy and way too yummy for a woman in her position—flat on her
back with her body primed from an undeniably hot dream.

“The hospital called,” he said solemnly. “It’s your grandmother.”

The last vestiges of embarrassment, along with the twinge of self-righteous indignation she’d been working up, evaporated. “What’s happened?”

“Apparently she didn’t bother to call for a nurse and took a fall. It looks like she’s broken her ankle.”

T
HROUGH THE
narrow, oblong window above her grandmother’s hospital bed in the intensive care unit, Emily had watched the colors of the sky change from the dark of night to the gray of early dawn, followed by the brilliance of the morning sun promising yet another scorching summer day. By two in the afternoon, Mother Nature had kept her word, delivering temperatures in the triple digits.

When she and Drew had arrived at the hospital early that morning, the doctors had assured her they expected her grandmother to have a full recovery. They had her scheduled for surgery at 8:00 a.m. that day to repair the severe damage to the ankle.

Due to Grandy’s age, they’d taken her to the ICU following surgery. The orthopedist, a far cry older than the twelve-year-old ER doctor Emily had seen the previous day, had been patient in explaining the procedure and the recovery process. Once the cast and pins were removed from her ankle in about six weeks, Grandy would require physical therapy. All in all, she’d been fortunate in that she hadn’t broken her hip.
Just the same, her recovery would be a slow one, again due to her advanced years.

Regardless of the assurances by the hospital staff, Emily still worried. Much of her childhood had been spent with her grandmother, and in her opinion, Grandy had been more of a mother to her than her own mother.

Glynis Norris was a true product of the free-spirited free-love generation of her time. It still amazed Emily that her mother had even bothered to marry Tommy Dugan, although the ink on Emily’s birth certificate had barely dried before her parents had filed for divorce. She didn’t know her father, but she still counted herself the lucky one, since Glynis hadn’t bothered to marry the fathers of Emily’s half brother and half sister.

Emily preferred solidity and security in her life, while her mother had been born with wanderlust in her veins. It hadn’t been long after she’d returned home to her parents with a newborn daughter in tow that she’d taken off for a commune in Oregon. She’d carted Emily with her, but before reaching the ripe old age of five, Emily ended up living with Grandy and Pop, where she’d remained much of her life. At least until those rare occasions when her mother’s latent maternal instincts made an uncharacteristic reappearance.

How Emily had hated those times. Unlike her mother, she enjoyed knowing where she’d be sleeping each night, preferably in her own bed, in her own room. By the time she’d reached puberty, the animosity between mother and daughter had grown to such
an uncomfortable level, Glynis declared it better for “everyone’s spirit” if Emily remained permanently with her grandparents. An arrangement which had suited Emily just fine.

Her half siblings, Duke and Justine, had inherited more of their mother’s adventurous spirit and had remained with Glynis for much of their childhoods, but occasionally there would be times when they, too, would be sent to stay with Grandy and Pop. Every once in a while, Duke or Justine would be shuttled off to their respective fathers, but those visits rarely lasted longer than a week or two before her brother and sister would end up back at Grandy and Pop’s again.

Emily
loved
those times. She adored her younger brother and sister, and regretted that she’d not seen them much since she’d moved to New York under the obviously misguided impression that she’d conquer the advertising world. Duke called Alabama home, but traveled on the auto-racing circuit. The guy was an absolute whiz with engines and was currently the pit-crew chief for one of the country’s top stock-car racing teams. A longing for roots had eventually tamed Justine’s adventuresome spirit. For the past two years she’d been happy working as a ranch hand in Wyoming. Last Emily had heard, her mother was an artist’s assistant in New Mexico. But that was over three months ago. Knowing Glynis as she did, she figured her mother could be anywhere by now.

She’d already spoken to Justine, who’d promised to track down Duke and let him know about Grandy. Emily’s two uncles, Tyler and John, lived out of state and
had promised to come right away if necessary. Her cousins were scattered around the country, so for the moment, the responsibility of seeing to Grandy’s needs fell to her.

And so she quietly sat while her grandmother slept off the effects of anesthesia. Drew seemed to be dozing in the reclining chair in the far corner of the room.

She simply didn’t understand this man. Not only were they strangers, he was technically investigating her grandmother as a possible arsonist, yet he’d remained by Emily’s side, stoically offering her his silent support when he could be otherwise occupied with at least ten other women…literally. Yet, not once had he expressed an ounce of impatience or so much as a hint that he wanted to be anywhere but with her while she kept vigil over her grandmother.

She made a little huffing sound. Charlie would’ve made sure his cell phone was turned on and told her she could call him if she wanted to should Grandy’s condition worsen.

A very young and pretty nurse came quietly into the small room, moving silently around Grandy’s bed, checking monitors, thermal graphs and the IV drip, taking care not to awaken the sleeping patient. The nurse smiled warmly in Drew’s direction. No surprise there since women apparently fell at the man’s feet. Emily included, if she counted her fainting episode yesterday.

The nurse nodded to her, signaling all was well, then slipped out of the room as quietly as she’d entered, shooting one last adoring glance in Drew’s direction.

The unsuspecting male stirred, opened his eyes and looked directly at Emily. A sleepy smile tipped his mouth, making her grateful she wasn’t the one hooked up to those monitors. The lines on the thermal graph would’ve zigzagged straight off the narrow little chart.

“You should go home,” she said, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb her grandmother. Women were probably camped out on his doorstep.

“So should you,” he answered.

“But you’ve done far too much already. Really, you can leave. I’ll be fine.” Maybe then her pulse would stop red-lining like the tachometer on one of Duke’s race-car engines.

There wasn’t a single logical explanation for all the silly heart pounding and pulse racing going on, either. For heaven’s sake. Hadn’t she just been dumped by one more in a long line of lousy choices? She had absolutely no business getting all mushy inside just because Drew looked like a nice guy.

A nice guy who’d kissed her back when she’d been acting out the physical aspects of an erotic dream. Something he’d been kind enough to not mention.

See? A nice guy. Right there in front of you. Not all of them are big, stupid jerks
.

She wasn’t buying it. Not from a guy that had far too many phone numbers, probably all on speed dial. If there was any truth to the rumor that nice guys did exist, then her heart wouldn’t be carrying around battle scars which proved otherwise. Even so, she barely managed to contain the sigh just dying to escape.

Given enough time, she thought cynically, big, stupid-male
jerkdom would eventually find its way through all that charm and those sexy good looks. Forget his crowded voice mail box. She had her own history with men which practically demanded it.

“I have a better idea,” her grandmother said suddenly, taking Emily by surprise. A gentle smile and affection banked in her gaze took the bite out of her words. “Both of you go home so I can get some rest.”

Emily scooted to the edge of the chair and took her grandmother’s hand. “I’m sorry we woke you.”

Grandy made a swishing motion with her free hand. “You didn’t.” She turned her attention to Drew. “Inspector Perry, what are you doing here?”

Drew pushed out of the chair and came up to the opposite side of the bed. “Making sure you don’t start racing up and down the halls,” he said, turning on the charm.

Her grandmother blushed like a high-school freshman who’d finally been noticed by the senior hotshot. Emily didn’t quite know what to think about that. The last time she’d seen her grandmother blush had been when Emily had walked into the kitchen looking for a snack and had caught her grandparents sharing a passionate kiss. Grandy had been flustered and embarrassed, but not Pop. He’d grinned like a randy old fool. If it hadn’t been for her grandparents’ marriage, Emily might have given up completely on the idea of happily ever after. In the ten years since her grandfather’s passing, Velma Norris hadn’t so much as looked at another man, let alone blush because of some gentle teasing by a sweet-talking charmer.

“It’s going to be a few days before I’m ready for that race,” Grandy said, her voice surprisingly strong. She looked over at Emily. “I’ve gone and ruined your visit, haven’t I?”

“No, you haven’t,” Emily assured her. “And there’s no reason why we can’t visit right here until you’re released.”

Emily thought she felt her grandmother attempt to give her hand a squeeze, but the movement was so slight, she couldn’t be sure. Which only served to remind her that perhaps her grandmother wasn’t quite as strong as Emily wanted to believe.

“I want you to go home and get some rest. You look horrid, dear. You can come back in the morning, and when you do, please bring my address book. I need to find a substitute to take over my classes.”

“Grandy, don’t think about that now,” she chastised gently. “You’re supposed to concentrate on getting well.”

Drew pulled his beeper from his side.

“It’s my responsibility,” Grandy said in that determined way of hers that told Emily she’d be wasting her breath to argue. “Margo and Rita don’t have the time to take on extra classes and there are about a dozen students who’ve already paid tuition for my Elegant Desserts and the Creams and Sauces classes, which begin on Monday.”

“Grandy—”

Drew cleared his throat, stopping Emily before she wasted that breath. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to make a call.”

Emily waited until Drew disappeared. “Grandy, I don’t think you should be worrying about this now. Besides, Margo and Rita are both more than qualified to cover your classes.”

Her grandmother looked at her as if she’d lost all of her common sense. “Rita’s sauces have more lumps than an old mattress, and Margo’s are just as hopeless. She might be a gem at Great Grilling and Roasting to Perfection, but that woman can’t even manage to whip up a cake from a box mix.”

Emily could certainly relate, despite her grandmother’s patient attempts to teach her otherwise. “Then you’ll have to postpone those classes until next semester.”

Grandy looked as if she’d just been insulted. “I’ll do no such thing,” she argued.

“Okay, I’ll find a substitute for you.”

“Emily, you know I love you. But you’re more lost in the kitchen than Forrest Gump at a Mensa meeting.”

She had her there. “True,” she admitted without an ounce of shame. “But I do have an MBA from Columbia. I believe that qualifies me at least to handle the administrative end of things for you until you’re up and around again.”

“You’re supposed to be on holiday.”

“I don’t mind, Grandy.” And she didn’t, especially since her vacation was going to last a lot longer than she’d originally planned. Anything was better than wallowing in her own problems. “I want to do it. In fact, I’m going to insist.” She gave her grandmother a
stern look. “From where you’re sitting, you aren’t in a position to argue with me.”