Hot to Touch (Kimani Romance) (12 page)

A
n air of excitement and expectation prevailed inside the plane.

Besides Emma and Shane, there were the four jumpers who were going out for their practice shoot, a spotter and the pilot. The remainder of the “crew” consisted of boxes of supplies that were to be parachuted down to the jumpers on the mission in Montana.

“We’re headed over the Grand Tetons, and from there we’ll parachute the cargo down just on the other side of the mountain.”

With her face pressed to the window, Emma saw the mountains come into view and gasped when she saw a shadow of dark smoke darken the skies.

“We’re coming close to the fire. It’s contained so
far,” Shane said in answer to her unspoken question, his voice grim.

The cargo was to be sent down to the men below, before the jumpers would precede to their jump site. Both the pilot and Shane were in constant contact with the ground crew being updated on the fire.

“What if—”

“Shane, I think you’d better come up here. The situation has changed,” the pilot called out loudly over the loud engine, interrupting Emma.

“Hold that thought, baby,” Shane said, swiftly making his way over to the pilot. Hunching down low, he and the pilot spoke in tones too low for Emma to hear, yet she noticed immediately the change that came over Shane.

“Change in plans,” he said grimly, walking back toward Emma and the four jumpers, who all immediately stood, gathering around Shane.

“The fire has shifted, growing in a new direction. The son of a bitch barreled right past the containment field. It’s growing too fast and it’s getting out of control. There aren’t enough jumpers to handle it. They’re calling in backup. We’re headed that way and we’re the closest ones. Thank God we’re minutes away.”

The men nodded their heads, quickly preparing for the jump. Although the news was grim, it wasn’t completely unexpected.

Shane turned to Emma.

“You’re fine. There’s no danger to you, but still…”

“Shane, handle your business, baby. I know how to
stay safe. Nothing will happen. You have enough to worry about other than me right now.”

“
You
stay safe.”

“I will,” she promised.

Despite the tension of the moment, he yanked the glove from his hand, ran a finger down her face and leaned down to give her a soft kiss.

He turned back to the men, his voice losing the intimacy, becoming brisk as he briefed them on the change in the situation.

Neither he nor Emma noticed—or cared—the way the others turned away, smiles on their faces despite the tension, after the small intimacy. Their senior squad leader was known for his brisk manner, yet whenever he was around Emma he softened noticeably.

Shane’s worried glance fell on Emma, her camera on her lap, a contemplative look on her face.

She must have felt his gaze on hers. Turning in his direction, she offered him a reassuring smile, yet the smile appeared strained, the worry in her soft brown eyes easy to see.

For the first time in his career as a jumper, the anxiety he felt churning in his gut had nothing to do with the mission ahead, or the lives in jeopardy. Instead his anxiety had to do with the small woman who had, in one short month, come into his life and turned it upside down.

He forced a reassuring smile before he turned away to face the others.

“We’re nearing the drop site,” Jones, the spotter,
called out over the near-deafening roar of wind and engine, listening to the direction from the pilot.

Again Shane’s gaze flew over to Emma. No longer looking in his direction, she’d returned her attention to her camera, gazing out the window. He wanted—needed—to go over to her one last time to reassure her. But all of his attention needed to be on the mission ahead.

He fingered the cross around his neck in the same way he did each time before he jumped. Pausing before tucking it inside his jumpsuit, he glanced down at it.

Kyle had given him it to him. It had been passed down from his grandfather to his father, and then to Kyle, once he joined the jumpers. Kyle had given it to him the day he graduated from his rookie class. He’d never jumped a fire without it. Until now.

Briskly, he walked back toward Emma, lifted the necklace from around his neck and placed it around hers. Without a word he turned around and made his way to the back.

The doors opened to the thunderous roar of wind, immediately revealing a billowing column of smoke rising high. When the spotter pulled his head back inside the plane, he yelled over the roar of wind, “Take us down to three thousand.”

It was time. The jumpers pulled on their helmets and flipped the wire-mesh mask over their faces before tugging on gloves. All of them, including Shane, were running on pumped-up adrenaline, like horses at the starting line. They were primed and ready for the starting gun and the race to begin.

After the spotter gave the go sign, Shane led the way. At the door he paused, glancing over his shoulder once more at Emma before dropping into a sitting position, legs dangling out of the plane.

When he felt the slap on the back from the spotter, he grabbed his toggles and peered below.

His gaze scanned the column of smoke that cast an ominous shadow over the land below as he leaped from the plane, his body pitching sideways against the heavy wind, beginning the familiar mental countdown: “Jump-thousand, look thousand…”

E
mma stood as near as possible to the jump door, capturing each man’s jump on film, until the last one left.

Although her stomach was in knots with worry over the danger the men—Shane—were literally jumping into, she continued to take picture after picture, long after the last jumper was too far from the plane to capture his image through the smoke and fire obscuring her vision.

The beauty of the images was indescribable, haunting. She hoped she’d captured the near otherworldly quality on film. For the first time in her career as a photojournalist, she was not only in awe, but felt strangely inadequate, fearing that her skills wouldn’t—couldn’t—do them justice.

She’d gotten to know the jumpers on a personal level. Their humor, who they were as individuals, why each one had joined the smoke jumpers…each man had a different tale, a different story to what brought him to this point in his life.

“Did you get what you needed, Emma?” There was a subdued quality to the spotter’s voice, and she turned to face him, nodding her head.

“Yeah, I think I did.”

With a soft clap on the back, he turned and signaled the pilot to close the doors, and Emma moved back to take her seat. She stared out the window, sightless, trying to muscle her mind away from thinking about the danger Shane was facing and to concentrate on the article she still needed to write.

Over the last month, she’d captured more than enough images to sift through later and decide which ones would make the cut, but she knew the lasting image in her mind of Shane placing his beloved cross around her neck before jumping from the plane was the one that would stick in her mind forever.

She fingered the necklace.

Sighing, she grabbed her backpack, glad she’d retrieved it from Shane’s truck before leaving, and withdrew her voice recorder. Hovering in the recesses of her mind was the angle she needed, the one that she saw with an instant’s clarity was the direction to take for her article.

“Jones, I need you up here!”

Urgency rang sharply in the pilot’s voice as he called the spotter, cutting into her thoughts. Emma rose from
her seat as the spotter strode swiftly past her. As she rose, a violent turbulence hit. The plane dipped, the impact shoving her violently to the side, the side of her head hitting the corner of the seat in front of her, her backpack spilling to the floor.

Righting herself, she took a shaky breath as the plane dipped once more before leveling off and swiped her hands over her jumpsuit. Carefully Emma stood, her hands braced on the top of the seat in front of her.

Grabbing the overhead cable, she carefully made her way to the front, where the pilot and spotter were in frantic conversation.

“It’s collapsing! If we don’t get word to them—”

“What? What’s going on?” Emma broke in.

The spotter turned to her. “The situation has turned from sugar to salt, real quick. A smoke column is starting to collapse.”

“And what does that mean?” Emma cut in, her head swiveling from one man to the other as they both spoke, simultaneously, fear making her almost want to gag. She swallowed it down, and with her heart jackhammering in her chest, listened as both men began to explain, relieved they didn’t try and sugarcoat the situation or exclude her from what was happening.

“Weather can contribute to the spread of forest fires—by way of drought, lightning, wind. They create their own weather, and the result is catastrophic, creating pyro-cumulous clouds.”

She frowned, looking from one man to the other. “Again…what does that mean?”

The spotter—Jones—turned to face Emma. “What
it means is this— Imagine a monster of flames that rises up to spit out thunder and lightning. This fire has become large and powerful enough that it’s now creating its own weather system. It’s called a blow-up. The smoke column has grown out of control. The top is thirty thousand feet, and it’s growing…the fire is feeding it.”

Shivers danced along Emma’s spine at the deadly picture Jones described.

“And it’s about to collapse.”

“We need to let the jumpers know what’s happening, now. If we don’t…”

Without warning, the plane began to quake. Bouncing, it tipped crazily to the side, and Emma screamed even as the violent rocking slammed her into the seat. Had she not quickly wrapped her arms around the seat in front of her, her head would have slammed into the small window.

With a hiss of pain, she gingerly touched her forehead, wincing. Her fingers came away stained, sticky with her own blood.

“Are you okay?” The pilot shouted the words over his shoulder, barely glancing at her, his attention solely on battling the wind hammering into the plane.

Emma rose, swallowed down the instant nausea and raced over to Jones when she spotted him lying on the floor, eyes closed.

She kneeled down beside him, grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, yelling his name, but he didn’t respond.

“Oh, God!” Emma cried out when his eyes remained closed. “He’s not responding…he’s unconscious!”

“The radio’s dead.” Both Emma and the pilot spoke at the same time.

They met each other’s gaze, and the same fear and panic that Emma was feeling was reflected in the pilot’s eyes.

Emma swallowed, her throat gone completely dry.

“What do we do now?”

With his face set in grim lines, he answered, “Do you think you can parachute down and tell them?”

S
hane had been the first man to hit the ground.

Within moments of landing, he was casting off his chute, along with the rest of the jumpers hot on his heels, running at full speed toward the site.

Quickly joining the Idaho team of jumpers, he and his men were fully engaged in fighting the fire, doing their best to contain it before it grew out of control.

“Who the hell is that?”

One of the jumpers near him yelled and Shane looked up, his eyes narrowing as he squinted behind his protective mask.

“No way on earth is that Emma!” he exploded, his heart pounding in his chest. Under the parachute, she drew down close enough so that he could see her waving her arms and pointing toward the west.

“What the hell is she pointing at, and what the hell is she doing jumping, damn it!”

He frowned, turning toward the direction she was waving. Dread pooled in his gut when he realized what was happening.

In the distance, the small smoke column had increased, growing to unbearable proportions; it wouldn’t be long before it would collapse.

His gaze shifted back to Emma.

Icy cold fingers of dread gripped his pounding heart, and fear slamming into him in nauseating waves. A shift in wind was slowly moving her descending figure away from him.

She was heading directly into the blazing column.

With no thought, Shane took off at a full run toward Emma, several jumpers on his heels. He yelled over his shoulder, “I’ll take care of her. Just keep working the fire, damn it!”

“Shane, no way in hell can you get to her. The wind is taking her too far away!” one of the jumpers yelled from behind him, but Shane ignored the man and kept running toward Emma.

Adrenaline coursed a fiery path in his veins. Shane picked up speed and threw his pack off his back to lighten his body. As he continued to run toward her, the column that had been building collapsed, and immediately downdrafts began to blow down, swiftly spreading a vicious lick of fire separating her from him.

Forced to retreat, Shane cursed, quickly backpedaling
away from the rapidly growing fire before making a headlong dive behind a large rock slide.

When the wind bowed, moving Emma toward the smoke column, she swiftly called to memory every training video on emergency landing Shane had forced her to watch. Fighting for her life, she managed to get the chute in control, steering it away from the direction it was heading.

Once she landed, she did a quick assessment of the situation, realizing the fire was rapidly burning a path toward her.

She sent a prayer heavenward before running like hell up the slope of the mountain. Her lungs began to burn with her Herculean effort to outrace the fire. After realizing there was no way she could, she stopped and shoved away her useless tears, knowing that time was not her friend. Any moment, the flames would catch up with her.

Scanning the area, she nearly fainted in relief when she spotted an old mine shaft not far ahead, near the edge of the mountainside. Remembering the story of Ranger Pulaski—another old video Shane had forced her to watch—and how the firefighter had used a mine shaft to save his and several others’ lives, she raced toward it.

Using up every last bit of strength and adrenaline, she managed to make it to the shaft and run inside, saving herself from the immediate danger.

She quickly entered the smoky shaft, and just as the ranger and his crew did, she immediately lay facedown
on the ground, hoping—praying—that the shaft would provide her with protection.

She didn’t know how long she lay there. Minutes…hours, it was all a blur. She drifted off to sleep, her mind and body too tired to remain awake, the adrenaline dissipated, feeling nothing but utter exhaustion.

Just as swiftly as she had fallen asleep, her eyes opened and her body jerked her into a sitting position, and for a moment panic seized her, squeezing the air from her lungs.

Hyperventilating behind the protective mask, her fingers clawed at the mesh-wire opening in an attempt to get air, before she stopped, forcing her panic at bay.

She was safe. She peered around, squinting behind the helmet.

Although not completely clear, the air appeared to be smoke free. Her chest heaving, she brought the brewing panic attack firmly under control and carefully removed the helmet, allowing it fall to the gravel-covered ground beside her.

She took deep, calming breaths of air through her nose, slowly exhaling it out of her opened mouth. It was clear. Licking her dry lips, she closed her eyes briefly before glancing around the dark, abandoned mine shaft.

Slowly, tears began to trickle down her face.

Her teeth started to chatter and her body shook violently as the tears gained momentum. She drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her bent legs and giving in to the emotional release.

She was safe.

“Emma!”

Emma was jolted out of her light sleep upon hearing the hoarse cry.

Her head jerked toward the entry of the mine shaft. Standing there was Shane. With a cry, she rose, her knees buckling. She’d only taken a few stumbling steps when he caught her, lifted her into his arms and held her tightly in his grasp.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God…baby, you’re okay…oh God, you’re okay!”

Emma trembled in his grasp, hearing the terror mingled with relief in his voice, her cries that had finally come to a halt returning, clogging her throat.

She wrapped her arms around him just as tightly as he held her, his hold on her nearly painful it was so tight.

After a few long moments, he finally pulled her away from him. He hastily yanked off his gloves and, tilting her face up to his, stared down at her. It was then that Emma saw the tears that streaked his soot-covered face, the ravaged look in his bright blue eyes.

“Damn you, Emma! You could have gotten someone killed!” The arms that held her at arm’s length shook. With a groan, he grabbed her and pulled her back against his body.

When he finally pulled away, his angry gaze ran over her, and she stood still. His rage was a tangible thing—he was angrier than she’d ever seen him. Helplessly, she stared up at him, unable to move.

“Shane…I…I was scared for you! Jones was knocked
out in the turbulence. The column was collapsing, the radio died…” Her sputtering words ended on a small cry when his hands tightened on her arms. Emma squirmed away from his punishing hold, her breasts pressed flush against his hard unyielding chest, the faint smell of smoke clinging to his big body.

“You could have gotten yourself killed.” He bit the words out, his fingers digging into her arms.

She reached a hesitant hand out as though to touch him, and he grabbed her wrist before it made contact with his face.

“Shane…” The plea came out as little more than a whisper.

Both of their breathing was harsh, his face set, his jaw clenched tightly. The small tic in the corner of his sensual mouth and the emotion swirling in his bright blue gaze were the only indication of his feelings.

She licked her bottom lip. When he followed the action with his gaze, the tic in the corner of his mouth grew even more pronounced, and every instinct in her told her to run. Run like hell and put as much distance between him and her as humanly possible.

Snatching her wrist away from his punishing grasp, she spun away. She’d gotten no farther than a few steps before he was on her. Whipping her body around, he shook her until her teeth rattled.

“Shane!” she cried out. Not from any pain, but out of trepidation from the look in his eyes as he glared down at her.

Grabbing her by the waist, he lifted her, cradling her in his arms, before walking deeper into the narrow
shaft in long, swift strides and lowering her on the ground.

“I need you, Emma,” he said, kissing her, stroking a shaky hand down the line of her throat.

Emma ran a desirous glance over him, searching out his eyes, her pulse quickening, stuttering, hammering against her chest.

He opened his big hand, flattening it against the hollow of her throat in both a possessive and dominant move.

“Oh God, baby…I’m sorry—” Her words were again interrupted by his mouth and the hot glide of his tongue against hers.

Emma moaned into his kiss, raising her body when his hands impatiently tugged at her suit, pulling it completely from her body, helping him to rid her of her clothing.

Within seconds she lay beneath him, wearing nothing but his T-shirt, the same one she’d put on hours before when they were at his home, and a pair of panties. Without a word he lifted her onto her knees and placed her in front of his body, grasping her waist and bringing her tight against his shaft.

She heard the hiss of his zipper and glanced over her shoulder. She swallowed thickly, her throat gone dry as she saw the passion-driven way he removed his own clothes, just enough to free himself. When he sprang free, thick and hard from the confines of his suit, she shut her eyes, excitement replacing her anxiety.

He lightly grasped her hair, fisting the tangled
threads around his hand and angling her head back so that they were looking into each other’s eyes.

Her heart skipped a beat upon a glance at his tightly drawn features, somehow transformed by the whole ordeal into something hotter and sexier than she could have ever imagined.

When he leaned forward and placed a punishing kiss on her mouth, she whimpered, her eyes fluttering closed. Emma gasped when he bit down on her full bottom lip before releasing her hair. He placed his hand on the base of her neck, keeping her facing forward.

When she felt the knob of his shaft at her entry, she moaned, bucking her body back, welcoming him into her depths.

“Shane!” she screamed out in pleasure when he pushed himself fully inside.

“You could have gotten yourself killed…”

Emma pushed back against him, needing him as much as he needed her, the musky scent of sex and lust taking over her senses, her head dizzy with the dual assault of Shane and need hammering at her body.

He pushed into her, rocking back and forth, gliding in and out of her in short, tight, controlled thrusts while his fingers dug deep into the fleshy skin of her hips.

He lifted one of her legs, angled himself and went deeper. Emma screamed at the hot invasion, her body going up in flames as he pressed deeper inside her than ever before.

“Yes, yes yes…” she cried out, mindless in her need, her desire…her love for this man.

She drew in a strangled breath; the realization that
she was completely in love with him ricocheted into her at the same time that her body exploded.

Shutting her eyes tight, stars danced like a million fireflies behind her closed lids as she climaxed, her walls clamping down tight, milking him as she cried out her release.

Yet even as she came, he continued to rock into her. He lifted her higher, thrusting into her at a new angle. Her body pitched forward. Despite the suit he’d spread as protection, she felt the sharp edges of the rocks beneath her knees. Yet, none of that mattered as his hot strokes became more demanding. When her body reached the pinnacle again, she screamed until she grew hoarse, as another orgasm ripped through her.

She threw back her head, bucking her body against his, her eyes clenched tight. As she reached her release, she heard his harsh groans as though from a distance, his answering roar bounding off the stony walls.

Her body completely drained from the force of her climax, she would have pitched forward and fallen on her face, her limbs were so shaky, had he not maintained his hold on her.

Her head hung low, her body rocking from the strength of his continued thrusts before she heard his low, deep growl and the sweet feel of his release flood her body.

Her thighs quivered, her arms shook, her entire body was blissfully numb as he pulled out of her, before he released her, allowing her body to crumble to the ground.

Emma lay on her stomach, his hard, hot body press
ing into her, thoroughly satiated. For a long moment, she lay with his chest blanketing her back, his warm breath fanning the hairs at the nape of her neck.

When he pulled away, she shivered, their combined sweat instantly cooling against her naked skin. Too weak to move, she simply lay there until she heard him speak.

“I want you gone.”

“What?” She gasped, swiftly turning to see him pulling his suit back over his body in jerky movements. “What are you talking about?” Her brow furrowed as she watched him, just as quick to put his clothing on as he had been to remove it before.

When he wouldn’t look at her, she simply got up and began to dress, feeling a cry of denial lodged deep in her throat.

She ground her teeth, refusing to allow it to release, even as tears burned the back of her eyes.

“You should have enough
material
to finish your article, Emma.”

Emma winced at the cutting words.

“But whether you do or don’t, I don’t really give a damn. I want you gone by the week’s end.”

“Shane…I did it for you! For the men!”

When he spun around, pinning her with a hard gaze, Emma drew back, her eyes widening.

“I didn’t think—”

“That’s just it. You didn’t think, damn it!” He shook his head and barked out a humorless laugh.

“You didn’t think of anyone but yourself and your damn article,” he replied, his words cutting into her like
a blade—swift, harsh, deadly. “You’re nothing more than a self-centered opportunist.”

“I wasn’t thinking of myself or the article. Listen to me, Shane, please!”

Without further reply, he spun around, his long-legged strides taking him across the cave in seconds. At the entry to the mine, he hesitated. He turned his head, barely looking over his shoulder, making no eye contact with her.

“The fire is under control. The men are cleaning up. You’re safe here. Someone will be around to lead you back as soon as possible. “

“Can’t I go with—”

“It won’t be long,” he cut in. “I won’t be at the station when you return. Please be gone before I come back to base.”

Again, tears ran down Emma’s cheeks, this time they had nothing to do with her brush with death and everything to do with the man who thought so little of her that he believed she’d endanger the lives of others to further her career.