9½ Days. Mia Zachary
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“Hang on, ma’am! We’re coming to get you out.”
Grabbing a Halligan, Danny pried open the outer doors and then Mike held them apart with a length of rebar in case the power suddenly came back on. A quick sweep with the flashlight revealed the concrete wall and thick cables inside the open shaft. The elevator itself was closer to the seventh floor than the eighth. Only the top two and a half feet of the car were visible.
“Looks like you’ll have to slide in and get her, L.T.”
Danny carefully controlled his reaction, refusing to let it show on his face. “Me? I’m the senior here.”
“Yeah, but since L.T. stands for Lady Target as well as ‘lieutenant,’ you’re the man for the job.”
He’d always wanted to be a fireman. Always. But he’d never consider himself a hero, despite the media calling him one. He was just a guy who cared about doing his job. Right now, though, it required heroic effort to control the chill of dread seeping into his limbs.
“All right. Let’s get it done.”
Danny took off his helmet then helped Mike get the inner doors open and propped. He grabbed the flashlight, got down to floor level and leaned his head over the edge. He shone the light around inside the elevator car and saw the red clad figure huddled in the corner.
“Oh, thank God.”
The woman’s voice quavered as she choked out the words. The gleam of the flashlight revealed a tear-streaked face beneath the hand she used to shield her eyes. Her lush scarlet mouth tilted in a little smile of embarrassed relief. “I wasn’t panicking, though.”
Danny noticed that her voice still sounded weak and smiled a little himself. “I’m sure you weren’t, ma’am. Are you injured? Did you hit your head or anything?”
“No. I’m just a bit s-scared.”
“It’s going to be all right. The heat’s caused a rolling blackout. But I’m going to get you out.” He started to turn away when she called to him.
“Don’t leave!”
“I’m not leaving, ma’am. I was just talking to my partner. I’ll be right down to get you.”
“Oh, okay. Not that I panicked.”
“No, ma’am, of course not.” Danny had dealt with a lot of hysterics in his nine years on the job. People were often so relieved and grateful to be rescued that they simply broke down. He wasn’t about to make fun of her, since he didn’t feel that comfortable himself.
He looked up at Mike. “I’ll go down and give her a lift. You help her the rest of the way. She says she’s not hurt, but I’ll check her out just the same.”
“I’m sure you will, L.T.” Mike’s voice had an undercurrent of innuendo as he took the flashlight to hold.
Danny ignored him as he swung his legs into the elevator car, bearing his weight on his forearms. Since this wasn’t a life or death situation, he stole a second to get himself under control. None of the guys at Station 24 knew, not even Mike. A year had passed as if it were only a moment, but that moment was all too fresh in his mind.
Just as he was about to lower himself down, an elderly woman hurried out of one of the hotel rooms down the hall. “My husband! Please help us. He collapsed! He has chest pains and says it feels like another heart attack.”
“L.T.?”
Mike was training to become an FF4, a firefighter paramedic. He was already grabbing his first-aid kit while he waited for Danny’s response. With many of the city fire trucks assisting Baltimore Oil & Power, generators and manpower were spread thin.
“Go. I’ll handle this. Call for the nearest ambulance and wait for them to take over.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Mike rushed off with the only flashlight, leaving Danny hanging. Literally. The idea of being stuck in the dark, cramped space for even a few minutes wasn’t doing much to alleviate his sweating. But a possible heart attack was more urgent than his problem. Inhaling quietly, he ducked his head to keep from banging it on the elevator ceiling and let himself drop. His stomach lurched as he fell.
Six feet might as well have been a sixty in the darkness…
After hitting the floor, Danny turned his head from side to side, straining his eyes and willing something to come into focus. Suddenly he heard a rustle of movement and the woman collided into him. Without the flashlight, he couldn’t see her. Or anything else.
Her disjointed sobs echoed in the small, hot space, further confusing senses that were denied the capacity of sight. His lungs clenched, struggling to drag breath into their shallow depths. The scar tissue on his back tightened. His pulse accelerated and he fought to steady his pounding heart…
Someone was crying. He could hear muffled weeping, but was too disoriented to identify where it came from. It was pitch-black and impossibly hot. He couldn’t breathe. Dense smoke and the acrid smell of burning fuel choked what little air was left.
He crawled through puddles of water, over jagged metal and broken concrete. The darkness seemed to cave in on him. Then more explosions rocked the floor beneath him, trapping him in what already resembled the lowest level of hell…
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
The woman’s mumbled words brought him back to the present. As she clung to him, Danny welcomed the contact with another living being and instinctively offered the comfort of his arms. Her soft lips nuzzled the side of his neck where she’d buried her face in the crook of his shoulder. He held her tightly, breathing in the floral scent of her hair.
He couldn’t have let her go if he wanted to.
He didn’t know how long they stood holding each other, his sense of time as confused as everything else. But slowly his attention sharpened and he became aware of her. He felt the warmth of her body seeping into him and driving away the chill of anxiety. Her full breasts were flattened against his chest, the hardened peaks jutting through his cotton T-shirt. Beneath his hands, he recognized the coarse texture of lace as he soothed his palms down her back.
A nightgown? In the middle of the day? She must be one of the underwear models.
She curled into him, drawing closer when she tightened her hold around his waist. He was extremely cognizant of each place their bodies touched. Her breath warmed his throat and her nearness heated his blood. In an instant, he was rock hard and more than willing to forget where they were.
The air around them pulsed with sexual energy and he knew exactly when she noticed the change. He heard the quick intake of breath. She raised her head, as if she were about to speak, but then her mouth brushed the edge of his and he was lost.
Acting on pure instinct, he captured her lips, coaxing his tongue between them. She tasted like cinnamon; she tasted like sin. His fingers sought to caress her hair, and in doing so released the clip that restrained it. The heavy mass tumbled down to flow around her shoulders. Sexy little moans and whimpers escaped her throat as he held the nape of her neck and deepened the kiss.
She trembled so hard he thought she might collapse in his arms, but instead she shimmied against him in an invitation as old as time. He ran his hands over her curvaceous hips and backside, pressing her forward to feel the effect she had on him. His hands glided up her generous body—he loved a woman he could hold on to—until they reached her silk-covered breasts.
At her gasp of surprise and pleasure, he slipped his fingers inside the nightgown to fondle the warm fullness of her flesh. She moaned as he gently rolled her hardened nipple between his thumb and index finger. Then he bent his head to take one delicate bud inside his mouth. He laved and suckled her breast in rhythm with her soft cries.
She grasped the sides of his face and drew him up until