Chosen by Desire (31 page)

Not that a drop of water was going to help.

Try.

She closed her eyes, found her inner sea, and dove in. The sizzling around her made it difficult to concentrate, and the waves in her mind fought her. She started struggling against them.

No—a tsunami. Hope leapt in her chest, and she encouraged the waves bigger. They broke over her head, one by one, each one swelling larger.

“What are you doing?” Rick’s hand gripped her arm—tight—and he lifted her up.

“Hey!” Her eyes flew open and she began to cough again. “I almost had the tsunami thing going.”

“Jesus, Carrie.” He set her down behind him. He picked up a sweater that wasn’t burning from the floor and wrapped it around his hand. “Which drawer?”

“That one.”

Taking hold of the scorched handle, he yanked the drawer all the way out. It clattered onto the floor, breaking apart, her underwear falling in little puffs on the floor.

“It’s not here,” Ramirez said, kicking aside the smoldering bits of fabric.

“Because I hid it behind the drawer.” She grabbed the sweater from him, wrapped her arm, and reached into the burning opening.

There.
She snatched it out, beating at the flames singeing the edges of the parchment.

“Come on.” Rick pushed her forward. “Move.”

Hacking, her lungs burning, she stumbled ahead of him. She dodged a sudden burst of sparks and hoped her head wasn’t on fire.

They dashed out into the hall. Other tenants ran panicked and screaming, calming mildly when Rick took over and herded them down the stairs.

The firemen met them on the second floor.

“Fourth floor,” Rick yelled hoarsely. “Apartment 413.”

They nodded and hustled past. Clutching the scroll, Carrie followed Rick out of the building.

The first breath of fresh air stung. Gawkers lined the sidewalks, watching the flames licking her apartment window.

Her apartment.

Gasping, Rick steered her toward a waiting ambulance beyond the firemen and their equipment. An EMT waved them to sit inside and held out an oxygen mask to her. “Breathe into this. You, too, Inspector.”

She knew better than to argue. Rick, too. They let the fireman check them as the fire was quickly brought under control. Rick went over to talk to the captain, leaving her with the medic.

“Except for being a little crispy at the edges, you look okay.” The EMT smiled at her. “But I’d encourage you and the inspector to go to the hospital for a more complete exam.”

“I just want a glass of cool water and a bed,” she croaked.

“Hope you have another bed somewhere. You won’t be going up there again for a while.”

She looked at the building and felt a heavy weight settle on her shoulders.

Rick came back and kneeled in front of her. “You okay?”

“Would you be okay?”

“I’d be madder than hell.”

“That pretty much sums it up.” She frowned when she saw the fatigue lining his face. “I should be asking you if you’re okay. You’ve been up almost twenty-four hours straight. You don’t need to deal with this. You should go home and get some sleep.”

“After we take care of you.”

“I’m—”

“You can’t stay here,” he said over her. “Fortunately the fire was minor and easy to contain, but they’re examining your apartment for signs of arson.”

“Arson?” She blinked, the pit of her stomach twisting.

“Even if they were to leave, your apartment is uninhabitable. The smoke alone would be bad enough, but you no longer have a bed, either. Is there someplace you can go for the night?”

Truthfully, she didn’t want to go back in there, anyway. “I don’t know.”

“No family in the city?”

“My mom is in Iowa.”

“Iowa. Why doesn’t that surprise me?” A smile hovered at the edge of his mouth. “Is there a hotel you prefer?”

“No, but I’m not staying in a hotel.” With her savings cleaned out from the trip to China, she didn’t think she could even afford the crappy hotels around her neighborhood—not even one of the scary ones that rented by the half hour. Unless she cashed Max’s check, and she couldn’t bring herself to do that. It seemed wrong, not only because she hadn’t finished the work, but also because she’d slept with him. No, the check would stay tucked away in her bag.

Rick studied her. To her relief, he didn’t question or press her. Instead he just said, “Any friends you can stay with?”

She stifled the image of her staying with Max—in his bed—as soon as it popped up. She was in no mental space to deal with that.

Gabe, but Rhys had recently convinced her to move in with him. Rhys’s house had plenty of room (for her and half a dozen of her close friends), but she didn’t want to inconvenience them.

“How about Gabe?” he said as if he could read her mind.

She shook her head. “It’s two in the morning. She’ll be asleep.”

“Then you’ll come home with me.” He stood up and held out his hand.

“No.” She hid her hands behind her back. “That’ll put you out, and you’ve already gone above and beyond.”

“You can’t stay here. You’ll either call Gabe or come home with me. Decide.”

God save her from bossy men. She pulled her cell phone out of her bag.

Gabe answered on the third ring. “Yeah?” she rasped sleepily.

“I woke you up.” She groaned. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“Carrie?” Her friend’s voice was suddenly more alert. “What’s wrong with your voice?”

“Smoke.”

“You’ve been smoking?”

“No. Listen, there was a fire in my building, and I need a place to crash until I can get my apartment cleaned up.”

“Of course you can crash here. We have plenty of room. But are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She hugged her new messenger bag close, and it occurred to her it was all she had in the world.

“Should I come pick you up?”

“No, I’ll take a cab.”

“I’ll drop you off,” Rick corrected.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t have it in her to argue. “Rick will drop me off.”

“Rick? You mean Ramirez? Did someone die?”

“No.” Though someone could have died—namely her. “Rick was dropping me off and stayed to help with the fire.”

“You’re hanging out with
Ramirez?
” A long second of silence. “We’ve got to have a talk about your taste in men.”

Men were the least of her worries at the moment. “We’ll be over there in minutes.”

“Okay, and then you have to tell me what’s going on.”

“See you soon.” She hung up and faced Rick. “I’m more than capable of taking a cab.”

“I know you are.” He steered her toward his car with a light hand. “But it’s no trouble. It’s on my way home.”

“You live in Sea Cliff?” She frowned at him as he opened the door for her. Sea Cliff was the ritziest neighborhood in the city. She couldn’t picture a cop living there. Not unless Rick had a huge trust fund he never talked about.

“Actually, I live in the Mission,” he admitted when he got in his side.

“That’s nowhere near Sea Cliff. They’re at opposite ends of the city.”

He turned the key in the ignition. “Tonight I happen to be driving through Sea Cliff first.”

His set expression made arguing seem pointless. She secured her seat belt, unsure whether she should feel flattered that he cared enough to see her safely to Gabe’s or annoyed because he was treating her like a kid.

“It’s probably best to be flattered,” she decided aloud as he pulled away from the curb.

He frowned at her in question but didn’t say anything.

Just as well. She hunkered low in her seat. “You’re lucky your car was still here.”

“They wouldn’t touch a cop car.”

“How would they know it’s a cop car? There are no markings.”

He just raised an eyebrow and zoomed off toward Rhys’s house.

She gave him the address and closed her eyes. Next thing she knew, he was shaking her awake.

Stretching her arms, she looked around. “We here?”

“Yeah. Looks like they’re waiting.”

Sure enough, all the lights were on. The front door opened and Gabe’s silhouette hovered in the doorway.

“Better go before she comes out here and accuses me of holding you against your will,” he said.

She squeezed his arm. “You’re a great guy. Some woman is going to be so lucky to have you.”

“When you meet her, probably best if you tell her to run.”

“Straight into your arms.” Leaning over, she kissed his cheek and then dashed out of the car with her bag.

Gabe held the door wide open for her to enter. “Holy shit. I don’t know if I should be concerned over how you look or the fact that you just kissed Ramirez.”

“I told you there was a fire. And stop about Rick.” She poked her friend. “He’s a nice guy.”

Gabe snorted.

“He can’t help it if he’s hung up on you.”

“He’s not hung up on me. He’s hung up on my brother.” She closed the door. “Good thing I love Rhys. I’d hate to deal with all that incoherent male posturing.”

“What incoherent male posturing is this?” a British voice asked.

They both turned to find Rhys leaning against the archway of the foyer. He wore a pair of silk pajama bottoms. His chest was bare, and on his left pec was a dark birthmark in the shape of a broadsword.

Just like Max’s.

Rhys strode to Gabe and dropped a kiss on her forehead, but the whole time he studied Carrie. “You look like a chimney sweep, darling. Gabe said there was a fire, but she didn’t say you’d rolled around in the ashes.”

“It was in my apartment.” Carrie shook her head as they both tensed in concern. “I’m fine. I just lost all my stuff.”

“She looks absolutely knackered, love,” Rhys said, stroking his hand down Gabe’s hair. “Why don’t you show her to her room before she falls over? We’ll discuss everything else in the morning.”

“You heard him.” Gabe took her arm and led her up the wide staircase. “Let’s get you to bed so I can go back to bed.”

Carrie looked behind them. “Isn’t Rhys coming up, too?”

“He’s taking care of a couple things.” Before Carrie could question what that meant, Gabe threw open a door and switched the light on. “Your new digs. Hope they measure up.”

Carrie took in the sleek lines of the modern furniture, the soothing pale colors, and the fluffy comforter on the bed and wanted to burst into tears of relief. It made her feel clean, and after what she’d gone through at her apartment, that was something. She set her bag down next to the bedside table. “I should take a shower so I don’t get ashes on the sheets.”

“Through there.” Gabe pointed at a closed door to the left. “Hand me your clothes and I’ll get them cleaned.”

Tiredly, she struggled out of her clothes, gave them to Gabe, and took a long, hot shower.

When she came out in a towel, Gabe was sitting on her bed, holding a large T-shirt. “In case you want something to sleep in.”

“Thank you.” Taking the shirt gratefully, Carrie slipped it over her head. It fell almost to her knees. She tugged the towel off and gave it to Gabe, who held her hand out for it.

“Come on.” Her friend took her arm and led her to the edge of the bed, gently pushing her down to sit after she pulled back the covers. “Lie down. Sleep as long as you need. You’re safe here.”

Sighing, she snuggled under as Gabe tucked the comforter around her. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You think
I’m
maternal.” Her friend chuckled. “Just wait until you see Rhys and Brian in action. I swear they should have been mother hens instead of manly men. Go to sleep. I’ll see you when you wake up.”

She nodded, closing her eyes. The door clicked softly shut, and oblivion followed moments after.

C
arrie woke up late the next morning. If eleven thirty-five could still be called morning.