The Firefighter's Cinderella (9 page)

He walked up and gave her a high five. “Good one. You're fast. I can't believe you beat me.”

“You're full of it.”

“Well, I admit I'm good at running. I'm even better in—” But she put her hand on his chest before he could finish his sentence. “I was going to say I'm even better in races. Where is your mind?”

She ordered their food and paid for it, then they stood watching the boats coming in and out of the harbor. It made a beautiful picture.

“Hey, fellow civil servant of the state…how about making yourself useful?” C.J. grabbed both trays and followed her as she made her way over to an empty picnic table. He began to pull out his wallet to pay his part.

“What are you doing?” Tasha asked.

“Paying, as a gentleman does on a date,” C.J. answered.

“No! I won and I'm paying,” Tasha insisted.

“You didn't win.”

“Yes, I did.” She smiled sweetly.

“That's because I let you,” C.J. retorted.

“And your problem is?”

“You're as competitive as I am.”

She laughed. “Okay. If it makes you feel better.”

“Oh, it does. And you know what else makes me feel better?”

“What?”

“That at least I'm not in the same profession as my dad.”

He was teasing, and Tasha picked up one his fries and threw it at him. “You are such a jerk.” She paused, then said, “My father and I don't practice the same kind of law. At least your dad is proud of you.”

“Tash, what in the hell are you eating?” He'd abruptly changed the subject, causing her to wonder what had gone on in his past that was too painful for him to talk about.

“My version of fish and chips.”

“It looks terrible.”

“That's because I didn't get fries.”

“But a fruit cup?”

“I have to counter the greasy fried fish with something. The weight I lost didn't come off magically.”

“Well, you always were a looker.”

His comment caused her to reflect on the man she was spending time with. She still had a hard time believing he'd always thought she was attractive.

C.J. studied the water. “I love coming down to the harbor. Sometimes I get a little homesick. Mostly I miss the smell of the ocean up in Alaska, where it's pure and untouched. That's where the best fish and chips are.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but enough ruminating aloud.” He turned to her. “What was it you couldn't talk to me about at the penthouse?”

“My work.”

He nodded. “I figured. And?”

“Tonight there's a place I want to show you that no one knows about. If something were to happen to me,
you'd be able to show it to the D.A. They could help the IAs—illegal aliens—and it would give them more proof in order to indict Mendez.”

C.J.'s countenance turned grave. “Why don't Richard or Daphne know about this place?”

“It's for their safety. If we are being watched and something happens, I want all the blame to fall on me.”

“This is too dangerous, Natasha.”

“Then I won't take you.”

He lowered his head. “Why are you willing to show it to me?”

The wind had picked up, causing her ponytail to swat her face. “Since Tim died, you're the only person I can trust. We're good friends. I know you would never divulge this to anyone. These people I represent deserve to be heard, even if I don't survive.”

“What about you? I care if you survive.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“After all the years and times we've spent together, how can you even ask me that?” He sounded angry.

“I—I don't know,” she stammered.

She heard his sharp intake of breath. “By now I hope you don't think of me only as a friend, because if you do, I need to know
now
.”

Tasha could hardly swallow. “I have feelings, but I'm scared, C.J.”

“Don't be.”

“Why?”

“'Cause we'll see this through together.”

She wanted to believe that. But they had only just started seeing each other again and it had just barely turned romantic.

“Tell me the plan,” he said.

“Well, it requires an overnight trip up to Yountville in wine country. I own a place there and I can explain the rest as we drive.

“I'd like to see what you do,” he said. “Frankly, I'd like to see you in action.”

It was time to make a decision. “You have to promise me you won't interfere with my work.”

“What if something happens to you?”

“It won't. I've been helping these people for a year now. I've never once felt threatened. Let's get going so you can get some supplies. We'll establish some ground rules on the way.”

“Ground rules? Supplies?”

“Yeah.”

C.J. leaned across the table and kissed her hard on the mouth.

In mere seconds her body had gone from work mode to lover mode. After the contact, it was hard to recover.

“One more thing,” he said.

“What?”

“Could I drive? I'd love to see what your car can do on the freeway.”

Since they were both avid car lovers, she decided to let him give her car a spin.

 

A
S
C.J.
DROVE THEM
expertly up the coast, she had to pinch herself to prove she wasn't in a dream. Here she was in a car with a handsome man who claimed to be interested in her. Every time she looked over, her breath caught. Too bad the discussion had to be so serious when the drive was spectacular.

“There's a restaurant-bar where I meet IAs on the outskirts of Yountville.”

C.J. grimaced. “You don't go alone, do you?”

“Of course. Every third Saturday of the month. It's too risky to get Daphne and Richard involved. They're aware I have a place where I get official statements, but they don't know the exact location.”

She kept glancing at C.J. The man looked gorgeous in whatever he wore. His T-shirt showed all those muscles. He was definitely not lacking in testosterone.

“Are you checking me out, Benny?”

“And if I were?”

“I'd say it's about time!” He flashed her a brilliant white smile.

It was almost dark when C.J. pulled into the beautifully illuminated D'Albergho di Marco in Yountville. “See that villa to the right?” Tasha pointed to an enormous structure at the end of the property, a luxurious place for the rich and famous. “I bought it so I could have privacy when I came up to work.”

“Of course you did,” he said, baiting her gently.

She told him the code, and the gates to paradise lifted. He drove through a courtyard. The fountain was lined with gorgeous hand-painted tiles. Lights from below accentuated its beauty.

Everywhere he looked there were flowers. The two-story villas, with their tiled roofs, dripped with wisteria and bougainvillea. “This is beautiful,” he whispered in awe. He'd never been to Tuscany, but he imagined this resembled one of those fabulous estates in Italy.

“Yeah, I guess it is. It serves its purpose, anyway. Once this case is over, I plan on selling it and donating the money to the families we manage to help keep here.”

At times like this he wondered how she could be so oblivious to the luxury her background provided. Though she was born to it, all she did was give her time and her money away.

A place like this meant little more than a means to an end. What Tasha did or didn't do with her property was none of his business, but her ability to give was one of the qualities he admired most about her.

Would she ever be able to give to a man in the fullest sense of the word? She was so driven to help people in Tim's name. Was it all about Tim? Maybe she just had a drive to help people, or maybe it was both. C.J. didn't know, but if he got much closer to her, he could be in real trouble. Instinctively, he knew she had the power to hurt him.

Once they were inside the villa, he discovered the place was a disaster. Tasha had created her own repository of legal documents that filled the villa from floor to ceiling, leaving a visitor little room to enter. She'd created a passageway to maneuver through them, but he couldn't tell if the interior was opulent, dirty or anything else.

“Are these the Mendez files?”

“Yes.” Her voice was distant. “You need to change as fast as you can. We've got twenty minutes before we have to leave.”

“Why so soon?”

She smiled. “We've got a busy night ahead. I've left one guest room only semicluttered in case I ever brought anyone here. You can change in there.” She nodded to an area somewhere in the back, and then started up the stairs.

He grabbed his duffel bag, packed with clothes he wore when relaxing at home. If he was confused as to why they'd had to stop by his place to pick them up, he was even more confused about why he had to wear them
here in Napa, while they were in a million-dollar villa. Of course, with Tasha, nothing was what you expected.

 

T
EN MINUTES LATER
Tasha knocked on the guest room door. “Are you decent?”

The door opened and the sexiest damn cowboy she ever saw exited the room. “I don't mean to be blunt, C.J., but have you ever thought of adopting this look all the time? It suits you. I don't think any woman is going to leave you alone at the bar tonight, and I'll just be stuck watching.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Well, I'm only wearing it for you. I'm just wondering why.”

“The people we're meeting wear clothes that protect them from the sun in the fields. Hats, jeans and work shirts like these are crucial for working in the vineyards. By the way, how about keeping them on for later tonight?”

His eyes narrowed on her face. “Are you coming on to me, Tasha?”

Heat filled her cheeks. Yes, she
was
coming on to him, and her body ached for him, but she knew she couldn't indulge herself right now or she'd never be able to focus on the task at hand.

“Um, no. I just meant I'm grateful you're willing to go along with me tonight, no questions asked.”

His eyes held hers. It was so dangerous to get involved with him. She knew C.J. could break her heart. Yet, in some ways, he was as fragile as she was, because they both missed Tim. And he
had
claimed he liked her more than a friend!

The war going on in her heart was wreaking havoc
with her emotions. He just stood there daring her to come to him. She had to fight her longing. “No, you don't, C.J.” She glanced at her watch. “You're too much of a distraction. Let's head out.”

“No, just a minute. Let's talk about who looks like she could win the Miss Prince of Wales Island beauty pageant.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“You're all dressed up like girls from where I grew up, except none of them could hold a candle to your beauty.”

“All I'm wearing are Wranglers and a brimmed hat.” She looked down at herself. “Some kind of peach-colored Western shirt and cowboy boots.”

“I'm telling you, Tasha, you'd make all the boys in Craig, Alaska, come running, that's for sure.”

“For goodness sake, C.J. You're making me blush.”

“I like to get you all hot and bothered.”

“Why?”

“Because it means you're human underneath that facade.”

“I've always been human.”

C.J. tossed his cowboy hat aside and pulled her into his arms. He tipped up her chin until her hat fell back, hanging from the string around her neck, and his eyes searched hers. Then he crushed her to him. She felt his heart beating fast like hers. “I'm going to be keeping an eye on you tonight,” he said hoarsely. “Now what's the plan?” He released her.

“We'll leave the villa through the maid's entrance and head out to the street. Then, like any tourist, we'll flag down the shuttle.”

“What?” he blurted. “You mean this villa comes with a shuttle?”

She tried not to laugh. “No. The town has a shuttle that runs for free. You just have to get on its route and flag it down.”

“Does it take us to the restaurant where you meet the IAs?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, lead the way.”

The shuttle ride turned out to be a revelation. He was surprised how pretentious the passengers were—snooty and arrogant people who steered away from him and Tasha, who were dressed like vineyard pickers. Obviously, the two of them looked like workers who'd come for a night on the town.

C.J. cast a glance at Natasha. If anyone knew she was the daughter of a congressman, they'd be trying to butter her up.

And Tasha wondered why he didn't dress like this all the time. The more he got to know her, the more he had the feeling she liked the part of him bred in the wilds of Alaska. She was searching for comfort, not flash. He just didn't know how deep her feelings went.

C.J. was positive she was attracted to him. She didn't open up to many people. Even if he was Tim's friend, she seemed to have no trouble separating the two of them lately. For C.J.'s sake, he hoped it was true.

When the shuttle reached its destination, he couldn't believe his eyes. In the distance he saw an old Spanish bar called Amigos. The exterior had mortar peeling everywhere, with chips in the tiles. Signs for beer ads plastered the walls. The small windows had bars cover
ing them, and the place rocked with salsa music. In two minutes' time they'd come from picturesque Yountville to Tijuana.

“Tell me this isn't where we're headed,” C.J. muttered in dismay.

“Afraid so,” she said.

“Tasha, this is a dive.”

“Excuse me, sir. They have the best Mexican food this far north of the border
and
the best company in town. I'm getting out even if you aren't.”

C.J's gaze followed Tasha as she walked over to the driver and asked him to come back at ten forty-five. What kind of world was this, where shuttle service was free and, even better, would come back at your requested time?

He hadn't known what he was getting himself into when he and Tim had become friends. The life of the privileged never ceased to amaze him.

Tasha was about to step off the shuttle. “Are you coming?” She popped her head back in.

Her question brought him out of his thoughts. “Yes.”

Outside, he put his arms around her and gathered her to him. He needed to calm his heart. The thought of such a beautiful, brave woman risking everything to come to a place like this scared him to the core.

Anything could happen to her here. This was crazy. He couldn't really be falling in love with Natasha Bennington.

“C.J., I've got to go in.”

“Not until you tell me what's going on.”

“Unfortunately, you and I are going to have to pretend we don't know each other.”

“Excuse me?”

“Listen, it took me a long time to get these people to trust me. I can't destroy that.”

He breathed in the delicious scent of her hair. “Go on.”

“It's simple. I sit at a table and talk to people. I have a green card for one person waiting. There's another family wanting to talk to me. They'll have brought three other people who need help.”

“What do you want me to do?” he said against her temple.

She looked up into his eyes. “Get a beer at the bar, dance, have fun, I don't know. You said you wanted to see what I do. This is what I do. This is what I am.”

“Fine. I'll buy a drink, but I'm sitting at a table next to you.”

“Okay. But from now on we don't know each other. I'll head in first and get a seat. Why don't you come in about five minutes from now?”

He didn't like it, but he said no more. She was right. He'd gotten himself tangled up in this mess and would see it through for her. It went against every fiber of his serve-and-protect training, but he'd given his word. Strong-arming her wouldn't work anyway.

Now he watched that beautiful woman push open the big metal door and enter the seedy building alone. Tasha seemed unaware of the door clanging shut behind her. The reverberations echoed the terrified beating of his heart. Terrified for her.

He tipped his hat lower, keeping one eye on his watch and the other on his surroundings. Field-workers passed
by him in groups, going inside for a night of fun. And he was stuck out here. Damn it!

The five minutes he waited were the longest in his life. He thought about his career as a firefighter. His job and Tasha's were so different, yet they were both trying to save lives. Could the two be combined?
Get a grip, C.J.

Readjusting his hat, he finally opened the large metal door. Another group of workers pushed past him. One thing he had on all of them was size. He was at least half a foot taller than anyone else there.

Amigos was not what he expected. A live band was playing on stage. If he wasn't so frightened for a certain female he cared about, this bar with its high ceilings and partitioned alcoves might even appeal to him. The bright coral, blue and sage colors made it an inviting place to sit down and enjoy the music. It had a great-looking dance floor, and seemed to be packed with happy couples. It all blew his mind.

No wonder Tasha felt safe. This was an appealing spot for workers to enjoy an evening away from home. Every time he thought Tasha was doing something crazy, she proved him wrong.

Making another search of the crowd, he finally spotted her with a man. They'd seated themselves at a table in a back corner, drinking what looked to be bottles of root beer.

From the papers spread in front of her she produced a green card and handed it to him. She smiled radiantly and the man jumped up, rushed around and hugged her.

C.J. experienced a strange burning in his chest as feelings for Tasha continued to escalate. A small line of
people were waiting to talk to her. This was the kind of woman his mother would like. Her mother would likely have a heart attack at the sight.

Tasha was doing everything her father was campaigning against right now in his race for another congressional win. That was Natasha Bennington. She was her own woman, one who went after what she wanted and never gave up.

C.J. grabbed a beer at the bar and settled at a table close by, sending her covert glances and listening to her speak Spanish with her clients. The Latin music in the background all seemed a part of this new side of her. She had no idea how attractive she was to him as she conducted her dangerous business.

 

T
ASHA DIDN'T KNOW HOW
she made it through the night, feeling C.J.'s constant gaze on her. It had been difficult to focus. She'd been speaking Spanish, then translating her notes into English as she wrote. Even though she was fluent, she had to concentrate. The loud music made it harder to understand the various dialects.

To her relief, the night was almost over and there was no one else waiting to speak with her. She checked her watch. Only fifteen more minutes and she and C.J. would be free to go.

“Excuse me, miss.” The deep male voice she knew so well was addressing her.

“Yes?” She looked up into a pair of smoldering blue eyes, and struggled to breathe.

“How about a dance?”

The invitation filled her with excitement and anxiety in equal amounts. The fear of C.J. being seen dancing
with her almost overrode her desire to say yes. She'd been watching couples out on this dance floor for the past year without ever once joining them.

C.J. wasn't a client, a local or someone her patrons could take offense to. He was an anomaly in this place. If they thought anything, they would simply assume she was picky.
Does it matter?
C.J.'s safety mattered, but one dance couldn't hurt. This was her chance.

“Okay, but just one. Let me gather my things. I'll put my backpack behind the bar. Enrique is a good friend.”

Once her bag was safely stowed, she felt C.J. reach for her hand. He led her out on the floor, easily maneuvering through the crowd.

He stuck out like a sore thumb. How had she been so foolish to bring him here? If photos were taken…

Tasha was five foot seven, but felt small in his arms. And safe. The lights dimmed. The band started up again.