Flaming Desire - Part 2 (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (7 page)

I looked up at Matt to find him gazing down at me with a look of amusement. I nodded.

“You rush into burning buildings, don't blink at the sight of blood and trauma, and you're afraid of flying?”

I shrugged. “What can I say? It's not my favorite mode of travel.”

He laughed, a low, rumbling laugh in his throat that made my pussy tingle with desire. Stop it! He must think I was nuts. I was about to reply when the plane turned onto the runway and then the engines accelerated. The plane picked up speed. My grip on the armrest tightened still more and I stared straight ahead, not looking out the window as the tarmac raced past below us. I tried to ignore, from out of the corner of my eye, the buildings of the airport passing more quickly with every second. What I wanted to do was grab onto Matt’s hand or arm, but that just wouldn’t do. Dammit!

Then, just when I thought that the plane had picked up enough speed to take off, I felt Matt's right hand settle over my left, now gripping the armrest tightly. I felt an immediate sense of security, safety and wordless support. I didn’t glance at him, but concentrated on the feel of the plane bouncing gently under my ass. I wasn't panicked or anything, just anxious. Still, his hand on mine brought a sense of comfort.

I think the worst parts of flying for me were taking off and landing. I didn't like the sensation I got when a place suddenly left terra firma and became airborne, or when the plane headed down for a landing. More than that, I hated turbulence. At that instant, the wheels left the ground, the nose tilted upward, and I was pressed into the back of my seat.

This time, I did look out the window, especially when the plane banked. That’s why I usually asked for a window seat. Doing so, I could focus my gaze on something on the ground, helping me to maintain my equilibrium. If I didn't do that, I would feel dizzy and unbalanced. I didn't like the sensation one iota.

It was just a couple of minutes before the plane quit climbing and obtained altitude. The wings leveled off. Only then did I relax and glance at Matt with a self-conscious smile. “There, I feel better now,” I said. I felt a surge of disappointment when he removed his hand from mine.

I had never flown this specific route, but I knew that our flight path would naturally take us along the eastern part of the Rockies and the Front Range of Colorado, and then up into Montana. I had a feeling that we would have to deal with a little bit of turbulence, but hopefully, not much. In an effort to distract myself, I turned to Matt.

“So, tell me about your crew.”

“There's a number of crews that make up the Rocky Mountain Hotshots,” he shrugged. “Seven actually. We’ll be joining forces with the Northern Rockies teams.”

I hadn’t had much experience with the Hotshot crews in the Rocky Mountains or the Great Basin. I knew the Southwest region encompassed about twenty crews, several of them operating under the Bureau of Indian Affairs and the rest under the purview of the Forest Service.

“I've never been permanently assigned to a Hotshot crew. I pretty much bounce around as I’m needed,” I said.

He nodded. “I did too, for a couple of years. My crew, based in Ft. Collins, will join the Bitterroot crew from the Northern Rockies’ teams and join up in Darby.”

From the airport, I knew we would likely take one of the choppers provided by the National Park Service to the base camp. Once we arrived at the base camp, a crew truck would take us to a specific location where we would be assigned to a fire line. I didn't know what I would be assigned to do, or whether I would be partnered with Matt, but I certainly hoped so. It would be a good opportunity to work beside him.

I glanced up at him, realized that he was relaxing, his head resting against the seat, his eyes closed. I didn't bother him, but tried to relax myself, knowing that our opportunities for doing so would be severely limited in the coming days. However, as I leaned my head against my arm, braced against the window frame, I glanced at his profile.

To my surprise, my heart gave a little thump. My thoughts turned inward. Suddenly, I came to a starting realization. I was falling for him.

I was falling for Matt Drake.

For an instant I felt a thrill of excitement, and then my heart sank. What the hell was I thinking? I hadn't been involved in a relationship for quite some time, and I wasn't exactly looking for one. Despite the fact that Matt and I had enjoyed a couple of very close encounters, and pleasurable ones at that, I wasn't sure if it meant anything to him. In fact, I wasn't sure if it meant anything to me, other than what it had been. Sex. Plain and simple sex. But was that all there was to it? I certainly didn't make a habit of sleeping around, and certainly not as quickly as I had done with Matt.

As the plane propelled us northward to meet uncertain days, I had to ask myself some hard questions. Why had Matt asked me to join his crew? He would have known that as soon as I heard of the fire, I would be on my phone, as I had been, prepared to call the agency and get myself assigned to whatever crew needed me. Had he asked because he liked me? Wanted me near him? And what kind of pull did he have with his captain anyway? Or was I overthinking it?

I also had to deal with this undeniable attraction to him. I recalled what Jeremy told me back at the fire station. Could he be right? Could Matt be a billionaire? And if he was, did it change my feelings for him, or encourage them? Was the fact that he might be bloody rich have anything to do with the sudden realization? I didn’t think so. When I thought of Matt, the first thing that popped into my head was the word ‘comforting’. I remembered his hand on mine as the plane took off. I remembered the smell of his shoulder as he held me close in his truck while I poured out the memories of my tragic past. I recalled the worried look in his eyes after he’d pulled me from the burning house.

Those were the thoughts that came into my head when I thought of Matt. Not money. After all, I hadn't found out the possibility that he might be rich until yesterday anyway, and before that I was already attracted to him.

I wanted to ask him questions, but I didn't want him to know that I knew how rich he was. After all, if he had wanted everyone to know, he probably would have said so. Still, I had to wonder. Why did somebody who made so much money feel the need to become a nurse, or a firefighter? Then again, I had to ask myself the same question. If I had so much money I didn't know what to do with, would I want to sit around idle, or would I want to be useful and productive?

I had never had much money left over from my paychecks to indulge in luxury, and I can't remember the last vacation I had taken. Sure, I had taken time off for training, but that didn’t really count. It had been years since I had taken time off just to lounge around, or even to go back and visit family. I didn't like to be idle, and so in that regard I supposed I understood Matt’s choice of careers. Still.

The plane flew north and my thoughts went around and around, wondering about Matt, what compelled him to do what he did, and of course examining my own feelings about it. I wasn't one to bury things too deep without contemplating once in a while and sitting on the plane with nothing to do but stare out the window at the clouds passing by certainly gave me time to think. Matt and I shared some commonalities, but up until this point, that was as far as it went. I think he liked me and heaven knew I liked him, but what of it? Did he mean anything?

I leaned my head against the side of the airplane, listening to the quiet hiss of the oxygen coming from the little tube gadget over my head in my ears, the sound of the engines pulling me into a deep state of relaxation. My eyes half closed, I just stared at Matt's profile. He looked asleep, but I couldn't be sure. His profile was so strong, so handsome, that I wanted to reach out and stroke my fingers over his face; feel every ridge and bone as if I were studying a fine statue. Instead, I folded my hands in my lap and resisted.

Realizing that my feelings for him were venturing beyond like and into something else–into a territory that I had not explored for some time–gave me cause for concern. I didn't need to be distracted by my emotions while I was trying to fight a fire. That job demanded my complete focus and attention. So for now, I decided to put my question over my growing emotional attachment to Matt into the back of my mind. Or at least I tried.

Besides, I didn't want to set myself up for disappointment. Working with Matt at the hospital and with the ride-alongs with the paramedics had been great, and the thought of fighting a fire with him was even better, but when we got back to Santa Fe, there was a good chance that he might decide not to work in the emergency room. He might even decide that Santa Fe General was not for him. I also had to remind myself that I knew practically… no, next to nothing, about his personal history. What if—?

“Why do you keep staring at me?”

I saw his lips move, and even though his eyes were still closed, I realized he was speaking to me. I made a face. “What makes you think I'm staring at you?” I asked, chagrined. He opened his eyes and turned to grin down at me.

“I can feel your eyes on me. What is it?”

I felt a surge of heat pucker my nipples and clench the muscles in my nether regions. What the hell? A mere grin could now turn me horny? I shook my head, my eyes wide with feigned innocence. “Nothing,” I said. Was that a hint of defensiveness I heard in my voice? I had a feeling I wasn't fooling him a bit.

“You’ve got something on your mind, I can tell,” he said. “I may not have known you long, Jesse, but I think I've gotten to know you well enough to read you like an open book. You're not very good at covering your emotions, you know.”

“Really?” I asked. “And what emotions am I feeling right now?”

“Curiosity… perhaps contemplation.”

I tried not to convey my surprise. He had me nailed. How did he know what I was thinking? I open my mouth to deny it and then decided that perhaps honesty was the best approach.

“I guess I was just wondering what compelled you to go into nursing… and firefighting.” I shrugged. “I told you my story, but what's yours?” He said nothing for several moments and I initially thought that he wasn't going to reply. He looked out the window past my shoulder and then glanced at me.

I wanted him to tell me something about his past. I wanted him to tell me if he was, as Jeremy claimed, a billionaire. I wanted to know, if it were true, how he had come to be so rich. Had he inherited? Was his family wealthy through a business connection? Had a rich relative left his estate to him? What hat molded Matt Drake into the person he was? What kind of experiences had he had growing up? Had he been a good kid, a good son? Had he ever been a husband or father? He had never mentioned anything about his private life to me, and I had to wonder about that. Then again, it wasn't like we were dating or anything. He didn’t owe me any explanations or any glimpses into his history.

Still, I had to bite my lip to keep from asking some of the very questions that my knowledge about his past and present barraged in my thoughts. Why? Why was a billionaire working as a nurse? Why was a billionaire working as a Hotshot? Why, why,
why
?

“Nothing like a tragedy you experienced,” he spoke softly. “Let's just say that I wanted to do something useful with my life… do something that made me feel needed.”

The comment surprised me. I understood the desire to feel needed, but knowing what I did about his past, which was next to nothing, the comment made me wonder. It made me wonder even more about his personal life and history, but I certainly didn't want to pry. Perhaps I had made an error in judgment, assuming that anyone who was rich would be fulfilled not only materialistically, but emotionally and mentally as well.

Then again, for all I knew—again, next to nothing—he might've had an unpleasant life. After all, money didn't solve everyone's problems. In my job, I had seen plenty of rich alcoholics, rich drug addicts, and rich men and women who had their own worries, dealt with terminal diseases, or who had children dealing with such issues. The old saying that money couldn’t buy happiness was certainly true. Was it true for Matt?

“I understand,” I said. He didn't say anything after that, but simply closed his eyes and leaned back in the seat again. “Quit staring at me, okay?”

I smiled and turned to gaze out the window. Despite my attempt to convince myself to put any emotional feelings or questions about Matt into the back of my mind, his comments just now had done nothing to assuage my curiosity. If anything, my curiosity increased. More than anything, I now wanted to know what it was in his past that shaped who he was today. A person's past, or experiences and upbringing affected us differently, but I felt one thing for certain. Matt carried with him a number of secrets, just like I did. Just because I had divulged a couple of mine certainly didn't mean that he had to reciprocate. I had to accept that. Still, my penchant for inquisitiveness was piqued. I just didn't know what I was going to do about it.

I left him alone for the remainder of the flight. Still, the mystery of who Matt was, and why, intrigued me. If anything, the mystery that surrounded him made me even more attracted to him. It wasn't about the possible money. It was about what made Matt Drake tick. I supposed that over the coming days I might get to know him a little better. I looked forward to that, but in a way, I also dreaded it at the same time. The last thing I needed was to be emotionally drawn to a guy who wasn’t interested in a relationship. As far as that went, I was very hesitant to put myself out there as well, to become emotionally vulnerable to a guy when I had no idea what his intentions were.