Playing with Fire (Primrose, Minnesota, Book 1)

By Mia Dymond

Liberty doesn't come cheap. In fact; she costs $200 an hour.

Dr. Liberty Prescott is trained to heal. Problem is, she can't heal herself. Fire Inspector Shane Hartwell fights demons in the dark. Desperate to end his torture, he seeks Liberty's help.

As attraction sparks between them, an arsonist burns out of control and evidence points straight to Liberty. Against his heart's denial, Shane accuses her until new evidence emerges. Now with his heart in his hands, can he reclaim hers?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mia Dymond
• Release date: Jan 15, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465792259

Mia Dymond

I write contemporary romance novels with sexy, alpha males and females with attitude to boot. I live in a zoo,hold down a full time job, and am trying to coax my creative muse from her cage. So BEWARE, the madness may rub off on you!

Book preview

Playing with Fire

Primrose, Minnesota, Book 1

By Mia Dymond

Copyright 2012 Mia Dymond

Published on Smashwords

Cover photo: Les3photo8|Dreamstime.com

Cover by Dara England

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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CHAPTER ONE

We can’t die in this shithole.

I’m choking. There’s no oxygen left.

Where are you? Dammit! Answer me!

Can you hear me? The roar is so loud in here. It’s hot. Hotter than hell hot. I’m coming. Stay low. Kiss the floor if you have to, just stay down. Take small breaths. I’m almost there.

Shit! The ceiling fell on my right. I can’t see through the ash. Christ, scream or something! You’ve got to help me. It’s too dark and my eyes burn like a bitch.

Wait. Did I just kick you? Zach, is that you? Thank God. Let’s get the hell out. Put your arm across my shoulder.

Zach?... Zach? ... ZACH !

Sweat dripped down his neck and over his chest as Shane bolted upright. Sonuvabitch. Cursing the nightmare’s bone-bruising assault, he grabbed both sides of his aching head and forced air into his lungs until his heartbeat slowed. His vision swam. Every nerve in his body vibrated. With no other choice, he sat helpless and weak, torn between punching a hole in the wall and curling up in a ball. His chest tightened in familiar clenching pain and he took several breaths to work through the agony. Finally, he reached for his watch on the bedside table and blinked several times in rapid succession to focus. Three o’clock a.m. Rise and shine.

He shoved back the moist sheet that wrapped him in a tangled, anguished cocoon and stumbled barefoot and naked to the bathroom.

His hand shook as he adjusted the bathtub faucet to an awakeningly cool temperature then pulled the knob to release the water from the showerhead.

As soon as he stepped beneath the spray, frigid droplets pelted his body like hailstones. Terror taunted him. Pain from the nightmare tightened its chokehold and he shook his head to clear the screams. Fuck.

Convinced he was awake, he stepped from the shower and slid into a worn pair of Primrose Fire Department sweatpants. He paused a few more minutes to judge his level of consciousness. Hell, he still smelled smoke.

With a heavy sigh, he went to the living room and stretched out on the couch for his usual dose of escape. As soon as he palmed the remote and turned on the television, Fred Flintstone released his signature Yabba-Dabba-Doo.

***

Liberty threw off the covers and rolled her exhausted body out of bed. She’d lain there for hours, bound and determined to battle the demons in the night. Instead, she tossed and turned, only making herself seasick in the process.

She stood still for a moment cursing her skin-crawling anxiety until she beat it into submission. Her toes sank into the soft, plush carpet beneath her feet as she tiptoed across the room and then paused with an unsteady hold on the doorknob. Three more hours until sunrise.

Her nerves jumped while she listened to the house groan in the still night, almost as if her restlessness woke it from slumber. She drew a deep breath and gathered courage. The knob squeaked in the security of her warm, well-lit bedroom.

Her heartbeat pounded like jungle drums while she muddled through the unforgiving darkness. Only recognition of familiar items along the way brought her comfort. The seashell nightlight in the bathroom. A wicker basket of magazines on the bottom stair. A bouquet of flowers on the dining room table. She relaxed fully only when the florescent lights blinked to life in the kitchen.

She shook her head when she read the clock on the stove. The green digits pulsed an eerie glow, almost mocking her attempt to sleep. Three o’clock a.m.

I should be so past this. She released a long sigh and reached to flip on the switch to the coffee pot. Even after years of studying the human brain, she still couldn’t shake the ghosts who lurked in the dark.

CHAPTER TWO

Liberty spun herself in her chair while she counted ceiling tiles and willed herself to stay awake. That’s what I get for being scared of the dark. She glanced at her watch. Dylan and Maddie were due any minute.

Her heart ached for her best friend, Maddie Carmichael, consoled only by the desire to help her heal. Sometimes she cursed her title of psychiatrist but at least Maddie had given her an excuse to leave Minneapolis and well, Primrose seemed to be a safe haven for both of them.

Liberty? Maddie’s perky, sing-song voice followed the tinkle of the bell over the front door.

In my office.

Liberty stood as Dylan and Maddie entered. Maddie gave her a tight squeeze. How are you today?

Ready. Maddie squared her shoulders and plopped down on the sofa.

Liberty noticed Dylan’s hesitance before he sat next to his wife. Dylan, are you?

He nodded a silent agreement.

Liberty closed the office door, sat opposite the couple, and pushed exhaustion to the side. Maddie wrung her hands and bit her lip. Cinnamon burnt her sinus passages as Dylan popped a customary Atomic Fireball candy into his mouth and then braided his fingers through Maddie’s.

I’m here, he whispered.

Maddie took a deep breath and glanced at her husband. Dylan had only been gone fifteen minutes. He ran late since we took time to make love. Between that and working a double shift, I wanted to sleep in. It was early, the stars still twinkled in the dark sky.

Maddie paused and moved her eyes from Dylan, her innocent nutmeg eyes slightly glazed as if she were somewhere else.

Liberty leaned forward and laid her hand on her best friend’s knee in support. Don’t push yourself. If you’re not ready, it can wait.

No, Maddie insisted. I need to do this. For both of us.

Dylan squeezed her hand.

I must have slept like the dead, she continued, but I awoke to hear someone moving around in the house. I figured Dylan forgot something so I stayed in bed. I was so tired.

Maddie stood and paced with her arms wrapped around her midsection.

I was jarred awake, barely able to breathe. He straddled me and tore at my clothes. Tears fell freely down her rosy cheeks. He was so heavy and strong, I could hardly move. He pinned me to the bed but I got an arm free and raked my fingernails across his cheek. He cursed and punched me in the face. She winced as if she recoiled from the evil forced of the blows.

Liberty turned to analyze Dylan’s reaction. He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. A muscle ticked at his jaw as he worked overtime on the Fireball.

Maddie seemed to gather steam. I screamed as loud as I could and rolled back and forth out of his reach. Finally, I wiggled my legs free and planted my knee in his groin. When he rolled off me, I jumped out of bed and ran to the door. Josh met me on the porch. He told me to go to his house, lock the door and call 911. Then he went inside. I followed instructions. Her voice trembled. I let him go alone. Wasn’t that selfish? What if he’d gotten hurt?

Liberty kept her voice even. No Maddie, you did the right thing. Josh took that chance and he’s fine.

Maddie exhaled, visibly relieved.

Thank God Josh was home and heard you scream. Dylan lowered his head into his hands. If I had been there, this wouldn’t have happened.

Dylan, Liberty said gently, you didn’t cause the attack any more than Maddie.

So, is it our guilt that causes our infertility? Maddie sat next to Dylan. He lifted his head when she rubbed his back.

Liberty nodded. You’ve both been tested. Since there’s no physical reason, that would be my best guess.

What do you suggest?

I have several relaxation techniques for you to try. Liberty handed Dylan a box. And these.

Dylan popped the box top. He suddenly lifted his gaze to hers and gave a smile of pure male appreciation. I learn more about you every day, Lib.

Let me see. Maddie took the box and dug through the items inside. Sex toys! She gave Liberty a sly smile. Did you buy these yourself?

No. Liberty ignored the heat in her cheeks. I ordered them online.

E-mail me the website, Dylan mumbled.

Maddie looked back inside. Do you know how to use them?

Liberty twisted her lips. You’re a nurse, Maddie. Surely you know enough about anatomy to figure it out.

I don’t know. Maddie lifted a long cylinder with a silicone ring attached to the base. This looks complicated. The toy buzzed and twisted when she rubbed her thumb over the power button.

As a matter of survival, Liberty slipped back into professional mode. Read the instructions. Just have fun. Take your time and learn together. Don’t get frustrated if some things don’t work. If you don’t feel comfortable, don’t use them.

Dylan’s eyes twinkled as he closed the box, stood, and offered his wife a hand. We’ll figure it out.

Maddie accepted her husband’s hand and stood beside him. What do you have planned this afternoon, Liberty?

Research.

Dylan grinned. Online?

Liberty rolled her eyes. Medical journals.

Fun, Maddie drawled. I’m taking lunch to the fire department if you want to stop by.

I’ll take a rain check. Besides, you and Dylan may want to skip lunch.

Maddie tossed her husband a sly grin and then turned back to Liberty. I’ll call you later.

Liberty smiled as Dylan and Maddie left the office, confident the toys would distract them for awhile. If only she could use those methods for everyone, the world would be a much happier place. She sighed. Maybe she should write another book. Sex Toys, the Answer to World Peace.

***

A swift shadow of anger darkened his mood and his thoughts raced dangerously while Shane scanned page after page of the same information he had read a thousand times before. Suspicious fire. Unknown igniter. Two perish. He cursed and threw the file across the room. Damn it, Zach.

He forced his aching head back against his chair. His spirits sank even lower when a familiar bolt of guilt stabbed him in the chest and memories of that fateful night assaulted his brain.

"Damn Shane, the heat is incredible in here."

"Let’s just find him and get the hell out. Dylan said he’s on the bottom floor, third room on the right."

"You try the living room. I’ll search the kitchen."

"No. We’ll go together through the living room."

"C’mon Shane, it’s quicker if we split up."

"No, Ryan! I’m in charge."

Zach chuckled and ignored his order. You might be in charge, but I’m going through the kitchen.

The eardrum-splitting crack of the drywall drowned out Shane’s reprimand as the textured ceiling crashed and created a wall between them. He flung himself to the floor and tucked himself into the space underneath a nearby piano to avoid being hit.

"Zach! he screamed into his mouthpiece. Ryan! Answer me!"

He leaned out from underneath the piano, his tired, weepy eyes seeking the safest route to the door. With his heart in his throat and his air tank empty, he inched himself through the thick, musky fog, screaming until he collapsed against the heavy, oak door.

"Zach," he croaked one last time.

Three seconds later, the smoke soothed him and the shrill ring of his PASS echoed off the crackling flames.

Shane wiped sweat from his forehead and swallowed the nausea that climbed his throat as he heard a familiar clicking sound against the cement outside the station door. Imposing an iron control on himself, he pushed himself out of his chair.

His mood lightened when he saw Maddie juggle several food containers while she wrestled open the heavy, steel door. An angel in disguise. Resident caretaker of her husband’s crew.

Shane propped the door against his boot and reached for the food. Let me help.

Thanks, Shane.

She handed him a stack of plastic and they climbed the stairs to the kitchen.

Feeding an army again, huh?

Of course. Somebody’s got to feed you guys something worth eating.

We’d starve without you. He set the food on the table. Smells great. What did you bring?

Your favorite. My chicken enchiladas. And cheesecake for dessert.

His stomach rumbled and he groaned. "I’m gonna have