Too Near The Fire. Lindsay McKennaЧитать онлайн книгу.
raise her hand toward her face. “No,” he ordered softly, gripping her hand. Cradling her against his body, he removed the helmet from her head. His heart beat heavily in his chest as he realized how much pain she was experiencing. In that moment Gil was aware of another feeling. He admired her courage. Even now she wouldn’t whimper or moan aloud. He yanked off his glove and cupped her chin, which was beginning to swell. He twisted to the left and yelled for Apache.
Apache trotted over. “What happened?” he asked, kneeling down beside Leah.
“That damn kid hit her in the face when he became conscious. You take her helmet, Apache. I’ll carry her over to the cab of the pumper. Have Sam get the first-aid kit out.” Worriedly he looked her over. “We may have to get her to the hospital if her nose is broken.”
Apache grimaced as he quickly rose to his feet. “This is the thanks we get for saving that kid’s life. Great. Just great.”
Leah drew in a ragged breath as pain jabbed her temple. She was aware of Gil’s body pressed against her, aware of the drumlike beat of his heart against her ear as he rested her head on his broad chest. She tried desperately to fight off the faintness, but the pain made it difficult. Gil gathered her into his arms, lifting her upward. “I wanted to hold you, but this is a hell of a way to get the chance to do it,” he murmured, humor tinging his husky voice.
She had never felt so safe as in Gil’s strong arms. She rested her head on his shoulder as he carried her toward the pumper. The voices of the other fire fighters drifted in and out. Eventually, Leah became aware that she was in the warmth of the cab. Gil kept one arm around her shoulders so she wouldn’t fall sideways or forward, possibly injuring herself further. His breath was warm and moist against her face as he leaned over, cleaning her lips and jaw.
Leah sat perfectly still, amazed at how gentle he could be with those large, well-shaped hands. Her hair, once knotted securely, had unraveled, the dark tresses spilling across her shoulders.
“Take it easy, babe,” Gil soothed, carefully blotting away the blood. “Here,” he instructed as he placed a cloth in her right hand, “hold this against your nose. I’m going to do a little pressing on the bridge to see if you’ve broken it.” He leaned closer, his eyes dark and shadowed as he surveyed her. “You know something,” he went on as if conversationally discussing the weather, “you’re good-looking even in turn-out gear.” He grinned, carefully examining the bridge of her nose. “Hurt?”
“No,” she mumbled. The bleeding was finally beginning to lessen. Her heart pulsed strongly each time he grazed her skin. She opened her eyes, looking up into his concerned, handsome features. There was an incredible gentleness about him as he worked. It served to relax her. Her mind was still foggy and she struggled to remember the conversation he had had with her out on the road. Had he really said he wanted to hold her? Leah chided herself for the feeling of excitement that swept through her. She couldn’t afford to get involved with anyone at the fire department. And especially not the man who was caring for her at this moment. Leah yearned to rest her head against his shoulder, close her eyes, and feel safe, but that was impossible.
Gil was satisfied. “Doesn’t look broken,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
Leah wanted to say: I feel safe in your arms. Instead, she rolled her head to the left, meeting his intense gaze. “Fine. Really, I can make it now.”
A partial smile pulled at his well-shaped mouth. His blue eyes took on a bemused gleam. “Hey,” he chided softly, “I’m your friend, remember? I’m not out to prove you can’t make it as a fire fighter. Now, let’s try this one more time. How are you feeling?”
Leah was grateful that the cab was semidark or he would have seen her blushing. “I’ve got a horrible headache and my jaw feels swollen.”
His grin broadened and he gave her a gentle embrace. “That’s more like it. Feel like walking back to the squad with me?”
Leah’s heart soared with unexplained happiness. She gave a hesitant nod. Holding the sterile gauze against her nose, Gil helped her out of the cab. The other three fire fighters gathered around, concern written on their sweaty faces. One part of her wanted to be independent of Gil. Were they thinking she was weak? She couldn’t bear the thought and tried to walk under her own power. Gil placed a protective arm around her waist, forcing her to lean against him.
“You okay, Leah?” Apache asked, the first to come up.
“Yeah,” she answered, “just a bad nosebleed.”
The Italian fireman reached out, giving her a careful pat on her shoulder. “I was watching you during the extrication. You did a hell of a good job. If that kid had punched me in the running lights, I’d have hit him back. You did good under the circumstances.”
Leah managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Apache. It means a lot to me.”
“How are you holding up?” Gil asked, leaning down to inspect her face as they walked down the highway toward the squad.
“All I want to do now is get back and take a hot shower.”
Gil slowed his stride to match her own. “You’re going to need a steak, too. Your left eye is swollen. It ought to be black by tomorrow morning.”
Leah groaned. “Just what I need.”
He opened the door for her and then slid into the driver’s seat. “When the local reporter comes down tomorrow morning to check on our runs, he’ll see you and think we beat you up.”
The ambulance had already left with the injured driver and a wrecker had arrived and was pulling the remains of the car out of the ditch.
Leah hesitantly returned his smile and shut the door. She cradled her helmet in her hands, allowing her head to rest against the rear of the cab.
Gil snapped off the beacon lights. He loosened his helmet and handed it to her. She took it without another word, staring down at the yellow color. Lieutenants always wore yellow turn-out gear and helmets; assistant chiefs wore red and the chief wore white. Gil put the truck in gear and started back toward town. Suddenly he smiled, his even white teeth stark against the sweat and grime on his face. “Just sit back and relax now. I’ll take good care of you.”
“You really don’t have to make such a fuss over me,” she protested.
“Lady, you’re worth making a fuss over, believe me.”
The words pleased her and Leah did as she was ordered. Watching Gil through half-closed eyes, she found it hard not to stare at him. Normally, men did not arouse her curiosity or, indeed, any sort of emotional reaction. Jack had seen to that, she thought bitterly. She took in Gil’s clean profile, marveling at the strength stamped in his features. Yet he had shown her he was capable of gentleness, too. Every time she remembered his touch, her body automatically responded. It puzzled her. She barely knew the man.
Gil broke the pleasant silence after a few minutes. He turned to glance at her in the darkness. “Hell of a note,” he said wryly. “On your first run you get hit.” He smiled. “Figure it out—we save a kid’s life and you get punched.”
A grin edged her lips; a feeling of pride swelled in her breast. “It was worth every bit of pain and embarrassment,” she assured him. “A life was saved and that’s all that matters to me.”
He reached out, hesitantly touching her hair, running his fingers down the silken tresses. “Your life matters too, you know.” His eyes became cobalt colored as he said, “Next time, Leah, don’t put yourself in such a vulnerable position when you know the driver is either on drugs or alcohol. He might have hit you in the eye and blinded you.” He shook his head, a mournful note in his voice. “God, you have beautiful eyes. I’d hate to see anything happen to them.” He rested his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You just be more careful” was all he said.
Her eyes widened with disbelief. Leah couldn’t tear her gaze from his. He cared. He truly cared what happened to her. To her surprise, tears filled her eyes.