The Firefighter's Cinderella (3 page)

Tasha remembered being curious about why a girl who worked at Neiman Marcus would want to work at a pro bono law firm. On paper it didn't make sense, because Tasha simply couldn't pay her what the big firms offered.

That was until she met her. From the moment Daphne
walked in, with her short, blond, pixie hairdo, they'd clicked. She and Daphne both had the same dream. They wanted to help immigrants get fair legal treatment.

Daphne had definitely gone out of her way to find the right outfit for tonight's big event—a silky, melon-colored Armani gown. The filmy material flowed around Tasha's feet, clad in dainty ballet flats. After the marathon, heels were out of the question.

When she'd first put the dress on, she couldn't believe how well it fit. The scooped neckline gave her curves she hadn't known she possessed, and showed off her newly toned arms. The ruched waistline made her torso look tiny. She'd never dreamed she could wear something like this before. But then, she'd never before been so slim.

After she'd arrived home from the hospital, she'd taken a nap. Then, as prearranged, a friend of Daphne's had brought a full team to help Tasha get ready for the night.

She would have to remember to give Daphne a bonus for this. The condo had quickly become a salon. The team did everything from nails, hair and makeup to getting her dress put on correctly.

It was amazing what money could buy. No wonder her mother looked flawless every time she went out. Tasha just couldn't imagine wasting that much time and money on herself every day when she barely had time to sleep.

The balmy air caressed her shoulders, weaving a magical spell around her. She hoped the unseasonably warm night would bring a large crowd to the fundraiser.

Before the marathon, Tasha had assumed she would
suffer post-race exhaustion. Never would she have anticipated dehydration and fainting.

Thoughts of C.J. in the ambulance and at the hospital suddenly came to mind. She felt a little shiver and hobbled toward his apartment complex. By the time she arrived in the entryway, there were butterflies in her stomach.

Her anxiety level skyrocketed as she dialed the number on the speaker system. When there was no answer, Tasha tried again, with no response. “Typical!”

She was angry at herself for letting C.J. put her in this position. But before she jumped to conclusions, she pulled her cell from her clutch to see if there was a message.

Maybe he'd been called in to work. He was a fireman, after all. Being a captain now meant more responsibility. She checked her phone. Seven o'clock. No messages. “You're a fool, Tasha!”

That was when she heard a loud noise outside. She looked around and saw C.J. climbing out of the restored black Mustang, his prized possession. He and Tim had called it the chick magnet. She had some lovely metaphors of her own for his car, but kept them to herself.

As C.J. approached, he looked like a movie star. He was dressed in a tux, and his jet-black hair had been washed and combed back, accentuating his blue eyes.

He closed in faster than she'd anticipated. She felt like a trapped animal in the glass entryway. C.J.'s tall muscular fireman's build and his perfect features—aquiline nose, high cheekbones and full mouth—were a lethal combination.

It shocked her that she'd spent two years around him
and had never noticed him like this before. What was going on? Maybe she should have stayed at the hospital as her dad had wanted.

That was when it hit her that Tim had blinded her to other men. Seeing C.J. like this reminded her of a quote she'd always loved and never fully understood until now: “One kiss breaches the distance between friendship and love.” She wondered if that was what would happen with them.

Tasha moistened her lips nervously. “We need to go so we aren't late.” She had to get out of the pheromone-filled entryway.

Being so attracted to C.J. on the night that was meant to honor Tim seemed such a betrayal. She marched away from him with little dignity.
Damn race.
She couldn't even walk right tonight.

“Marathon legs?”

“You noticed.”

“I know the hobble well.”

Of course he did. He ran, too, when he wasn't on duty. Mr. Wonderful in every way. Tasha continued on to her car.

“Hey, I thought I'd take us. I know how hard it is to walk, let alone drive after a race. That's why I pulled the Stang out of the parking lot.”

“Thanks, but no. I'm driving tonight.”

“Why?” She could feel his warm body following closely behind her.

“It's called self-preservation.”

“What does that mean?”

She stopped in her tracks and turned around. She was feeling better by the second. It had helped to get
out of that claustrophobic building and into the night air. “I want to make sure I have a ride home.” She gave him her tough courtroom stare.

“Well, of course you'll have a ride home!”

Tasha folded her arms at her waist, biting her lip. “I highly doubt that. When I used to hang with you and Tim, there wasn't one gala I can recall ever getting a ride back from.”

“You and I never went to any galas together,” he countered.

The familiar jab in the gut was there again. That old sting of being easily forgotten. “Oh, I went to some events with you two. Let's see….”

She put her clutch under her arm and began counting on her fingers. “There was the Governor's Ball. We were at the Mayor's Ball twice. Then there was the VonGreen's Napa Valley Wine Club party, the—”

A perplexed look crossed his face. “Are you sure you came with us?”

“Yes.” She couldn't keep the icy tone out of her voice. “You and Tim usually forgot me in five minutes, tops! Once let loose, you'd scope for the hottest girls in the room, create the game plan and go in for the kill. You had it down to a science, and I was forced to call a taxi for a way home more times than I care to remember.”

C.J. smiled. “Same old Tasha. You always could tear a person apart in one sentence.”

“That's not true.”

“Yes, it is.” His smile stayed beautiful. “One of our favorite games was to watch how fast you could cut a guy down at a bar. Would it be in one sentence, or in four?”

“What are you talking about? I never got hit on.”

“Actually, you did. You just sent them away like poor little puppy dogs.”

“Puppy dogs?” She smiled, unable to remember being approached by men.

“Look, Tasha, I'm sorry for whatever you thought I might have done in the past, but I can promise you it won't be happening tonight.” C.J. looked at her with a possessiveness she'd never felt from a man.

An apology from Powell? I must be losing it.

“Let's drop the subject.” She lifted one eyebrow before continuing to her car. “I still prefer to drive.”

 

T
ASHA PARKED THE CAR
at the entrance of the famous landmark hotel, and a valet was prompt to open her door. “Welcome to the Rosemont.”

C.J. watched Tasha hand her keys to the man while she tried to get out of the car with as much decorum as possible.

The ride over had been pure hell for him. Looking at her in that delectable dress, her silky hair swept up on her head, was a new experience for him.

He'd always thought Natasha was cute, but the woman next to him was incredibly alluring. C.J.'s mind wandered back to carefree times before Tim's death. When he stole looks at Tasha now, he wondered how his friend hadn't been able to see the amazing woman who'd loved him.

She was a vision tonight, with those wispy curls floating around her neck. She brought out something in him he'd forgotten existed.
Life.
He'd been so caught up in Tim's dying at such a young age, he'd stopped living,
too. Yet for some reason seeing Natasha Bennington this morning had brought him back.

He'd felt a similar moment of truth just over a year ago when he'd faced his twin brother, Jake. For too many years to count, they'd been estranged over a misunderstanding about a girl who never really mattered. To finally reunite with his brother had healed something in his soul that he'd thought couldn't be mended.

Over the years, C.J. had dated scores of women, going through one woman after another. But when he'd stood as best man at his brother's wedding, just a little over a year ago, he had realized that he, too, wanted to find love and have a family of his own.

The discovery had shocked the daylights out of him. Until he'd been able to figure it out for himself, he'd never mentioned it to anyone. Then tragically, a week later, Tim had been diagnosed with cancer, and C.J.'s whole world had fallen apart.

Just as he had thought he could put the pieces of his life back together, he'd discovered he was wrong. Life was just an endless journey of despair. All he could do was hide his pain and throw himself into work….

“Sir? Do you need help?” the valet was asking.

Embarrassed, C.J. collected his thoughts and climbed out quickly. “No.” He could see that Tasha was still struggling to emerge, and he was the man for the job. He walked around the Lexus, sending the smitten valet running with one look.

“Can you get out?” he teased. “Or do you want me to call the station for backup?”

Tasha was ready to explode. “You know I need help,” she said impatiently.

He bent a little lower. “Did I hear a please with that?”

The look she shot him was pure frustration. Tasha hadn't changed. Once you got her riled, she was fun to watch.

“Tasha? Stop!” he ordered, when she grasped one leg, intending to lift it out of the car.

She looked up at him, and he could see he'd pushed her too far. Her green eyes were livid and her full mouth tense. If he kept gazing at her, he was likely to jump in the driver's seat, take her back home and kiss her senseless.

“Stop what?” she retorted.

He smoothed his thumb over his lower lip, trying to focus on the evening and not on the beautiful woman he wanted to keep for himself.

In a swift motion he picked her up, cradling her in his arms. Her body felt so right against his, as if they were made for each other. Her perfume wafted around him, driving him crazier with every second.

He looked down to check her reaction. The flush on her cheeks gave her away. “You look incredible tonight,” he said.

Their eyes met once more and the vulnerability he read in hers only made her more desirable. “Thank you.” She averted her gaze. “You don't look too shabby yourself.”

He kept walking. “Are you ready to speak about Tim and the charity tonight?” he asked. His emotions were mixed. He knew how much she'd loved Tim. Was she still in love with his memory? Would she ever let him go?

“Who told you? It was supposed to be a secret.”

“Gina McGinnis confides in me,” he replied. Their
eyes locked yet again and a feeling of desire filled him, to the point that he lifted his head, needing to figure out if he was imagining what he felt.

“C.J.? Please put me down. I'm not a child and I feel utterly silly being carried this way.”

Ignoring her protests, he carried her at a brisk pace, heading for the elegant entryway of one of San Francisco's most famous hotels. She put her arms around his neck while he maneuvered them through the doors.

“We're here now, C.J. I can walk.”

He set her on her feet and struggled to compose himself. “I believe the lady is safely in the hotel.”

On that note C.J. let her go. He needed some time to think. Though he hated to pull away from her, a part of him needed to go into hiding where nothing and no one could hurt him.

He was keenly aware of the living, breathing beauty who'd brought him to life.

But how did Tasha view him? As a man…or a connection to the past? One tied to Tim.

There was no point in kidding himself. C.J. had started to have feelings for her, but she was in love with the memory of his wealthy best friend.

Except that it wasn't love. Tim had been her childhood crush. An obsession.

Tonight C.J. felt a connection between Tasha and himself. They had chemistry. That was a great starting point. There was no reason she couldn't move on now with another man—and why couldn't that man be him?

 

T
ASHA NEEDED TO GET
a handle on herself or tonight could turn into a disaster. She closed her eyes and
breathed in deeply, trying to cope with all the emotions attacking her.

For the moment she would blot out the world and focus on the problem at hand. Put all the issues in her mind into a courtroom box to be dealt with later.

The technique was one she used to calm herself down before a big case. Her problem was how to shrink a six-foot-three fireman to fit into that box.

Come on, Tasha.
There was just too much to do tonight without the distraction of pine and spice wafting past her nostrils. Every time Captain Powell got close, her knees went weak.

When an Adonis in a tux became her hero for the day, it was hard to believe she could be as spineless as the girl next door, following him like a puppy dog.

Was she really so shallow? Tim had been gone only a year, yet she found herself attracted to his best friend. Was that because she still missed Tim?

Or was she attracted to C.J. for himself? The therapist she'd been seeing since the funeral had told her she had to let Tim go and move on. But with C.J?

“Tasha, are you all right?”

“Oh…you came back.”

“From the little boys' room. Of course I did. You went blank for a moment and I was a bit concerned.”

Tasha could feel another blush coming on.

“Where do you want to go now?” he asked.

“I'm in charge of the banquet. I had a ton of assistance from my party planner, but since this charity is my brainchild, I've helped where I could and—”

“The charity was your idea?” he interrupted. His
expression grew unreadable. She felt tension between them.

“Yes. I went to the McGinnises and my parents with a way for us to put our grief to use. We both know Gina McGinnis is an amazing charity worker who could run a foundation blindfolded. So I pitched the idea of the Tim McGinnis Firefighters against Cancer Foundation.”

“I had no idea.”

“I could do the legal work, but didn't have the time, money or know-how to start the actual foundation. I've been touched by how the community has rallied to support it. I'm convinced this charity is going to make a big difference in the lives of many firefighters and their families in the Bay area fighting cancer.”

“Now it makes even more sense why you're speaking tonight.”

“I've asked that I just be known as the lawyer for the charity. I don't want my father turning this into a political rally. He's running for Congress again this election.” Tasha moved closer to C.J. Her eyes searched his for the warmth that had been there earlier.

“So what do you need to do now?” he asked.

She bit her lip. “First off we have to find Terrance and see how things are going. Or you could go to the bar and relax until the banquet starts.”

“Natasha? Where have you been?” a voice called. She looked over her shoulder and as if the mention of Terrance had conjured him up, saw the main coordinator of the event hurrying toward her, clutching a sheaf of papers. “You look fabulous, darling!”

Her thoughts had been so full of C.J. she'd almost forgotten her responsibilities for the evening.

“We're in a crisis!” The man lifted his shoulders and shook his head dramatically, almost dropping his clipboard. “The band is fighting with the caterer and the chef is about to walk out the door. We need major damage control.” He sounded about to weep.

Tasha turned away from C.J. and took a deep breath to pull herself together. “First off, that haircut is marvelous on you. I love the purple highlights.”

Terrance beamed and fluffed his hair.

“Listen to me. I hired you because you're the best.”

The coordinator's narrow shoulders straightened and his confidence appeared to return.

“Now get that amazing suit back in there and tell them I'm coming. I realize Chef Renard is difficult, so leave him to me. You go deal with the band. We'll slice and dice this problem together.”

Terrance hugged her. “You're marvelous, not to mention delectable in that outfit. Like a fruit,” he added before kissing the air near her cheek. “Who's this?” He'd just noticed C.J., and his eyes went wide with curiosity.

“This was Tim's best friend, Captain C. J. Powell of the San Francisco Fire Department. C.J? This is Terrance Young, my miracle worker.”

After they shook hands, C.J. said, “I'm also Natasha's date for the evening.” He slid his arm around her casually and pulled her close.

Terrance adjusted his black-rimmed glasses and raised his eyebrows. “Tsk-tsk. It seems our Tasha has been holding out on us.” He looked back and forth between the two of them, then pursed his lips. “When
were you going to tell me you had a hot man in your life?”

Tasha felt as if she was losing control of everything she'd carefully pieced together over the past year. “C.J. and I have been friends for ages.”

Terrance laughed. “When you're ready to tell the truth, come and have a chat with me. I'll be taking care of the band. But Renard is about to leave. I suggest you say your goodbyes quickly,” he said, before breezing away.

Tasha looked up at C.J. and felt her heart race when their gazes locked. How could a man have such blue eyes? Feeling utterly juvenile, she glanced away. “I guess I better head to the kitchen before my ill-tempered chef leaves. See you after the speech.”