“The rest of my team had the fire well under control and didn't really need me any more, so my Commander very kindly agreed that I should accompany you in the ambulance.” The mattress dipped as Chase sat down on the edge of the bed.
She was acutely aware of the warmth of his hip through the bedclothes. “What?” she said blankly.
She felt him shrug. “Well, actually, I didn't bother to ask him until we'd arrived at the hospital, and his response was more along the lines of ‘Chase, it is a very good thing you are already five miles away from me,’ but I think that counts as agreement, don't you?”
“None of that,” Connie mumbled into her sheet, “made the slightest bit of sense.”
“How about this, then.” Chase shifted on the bed. Even without looking, Connie knew he was leaning over earnestly, his brilliant, lying black eyes full of sincerity. “I've missed you desperately. I'm overjoyed to find you again. Will you marry me?”
Connie pushed herself up on her elbows to stare at him in disbelief. “Are you completely out of your—”
She stopped mid-sentence as more of her surroundings came into focus. Every flat surface in the small private room was covered in roses. For a moment she had a mad thought that perhaps Chase had bribed the paramedics to bring her to a florist rather than a hospital. It was exactly the sort of thing he'd do.
Chase himself was set off by a background of glorious white roses that made the perfect contrast to his dark good looks. His shoulders were broader than she remembered. His long, muscled arms bore unfamiliar scars, the barely-visible traces of old burns. Instead of a custom-made designer suit, he wore a smoke-stained fire-resistant uniform. His thick black hair, once so carefully cut and styled, was now tousled and singed.
But his face was exactly the same, unchanged even after three years.
She should know. Despite her best efforts, that face had haunted her dreams every night.
Connie tore herself away from those bright, compelling eyes. Remember what he did, she reminded herself. He’s a lying, womanizing cheater.
Don't fall for him again.
“Okay,” she said firmly. “First things first: No. I am absolutely not marrying you.”
Chase's hopeful expression fell. “So you’re still mad at me.”
“I caught you naked in bed with two other women, Chase!”
On the night I’d finally decided to sleep with you, Connie didn’t add aloud. Chase didn’t need to know that little detail.
She glared at him. “Of course I’m still mad at you.”
“But you never even gave me a chance to explain,” Chase said, so rapidly that his strong Irish accent made his words run together. “You see, I went to the club for a drink, and the next thing I knew-”
“I wasn’t interested in excuses then, and I’m definitely not interested now,” Connie interrupted. She pushed the old hurt back down into the bottom of her heart. “It was a long time ago, anyway. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Yes, it does,” Chase insisted. “Please, Connie. You have to believe me, I never meant to hurt you. I don’t even know what happened!”
“I said I’m not interested.” Connie rubbed at the bridge of her nose, feeling the start of the familiar headache that prolonged exposure to Chase tended to inspire. “Why are you wearing a firefighter's uniform? Why is this room full of roses?”
Chase spread his quick, agile hands. “The room is full of rose
s because you like roses. I'm wearing a firefighter's uniform because I'm a firefighter.”
None of that made any sense, either, but Connie let it go as a far more urgent question finally occurred to her.
She sat bolt upright in the bed, panic seizing her. “Where is my dad?”
“He's fine,” Chase said, and Connie's heart started beating again. “We found him outside the bar. He's been pretty badly roughed up, but he'll be okay. He's here in the hospital, too.”
“I have to see him.” Connie threw back the sheet, struggling to her feet. “Take me to him, now!”
Chase caught her as she swayed. His gaze flicked downward. Connie belatedly realized that she was wearing nothing except a backless hospital gown. Literally nothing.
“Here.” Chase shrugged out of his firefighter jacket, offering it to her. His lips quirked teasingly. “Not that I don't like what you're wearing…”
With what dignity she could muster, Connie put the jacket on over the hospital gown. It was streaked with soot and reeked of smoke, but it was better than wandering the corridors bare-assed. She pulled it closed around her ample hips as best she could. “Thanks. Now take me to my dad.”