Undercover Fiance. Sheryl Lynn
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bill for your travel expenses. I’ll pay it promptly.” She turned for the door.
Daniel had her by the arm before she even realized he’d moved. She stiffened.
“You need me,” he said.
“I most certainly do not.”
“What did I do wrong?”
She jerked her arm from his grasp. “Making passes at me is not part of the plan. I won’t tolerate it.”
“Okay, okay. I’m guilty of finding you fascinating and beautiful. But that’s no crime. You make it sound crude.”
“It is crude and offensive. Now go home. You’re fired.”
The door slammed shut, pitching the garage into darkness. “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she muttered, then louder, “Hey! There’s somebody in here.”
She headed for the door. A loud snap stopped her mid-step. That could not have been the lock in the hasp. Yelling again, she rushed to the door. It refused to budge no matter how hard she pushed on the handle. She slammed her fist against the door. The metal clanged dully.
Daniel shoved his shoulder against the door, but the steel door and hinges didn’t budge. She yelled at whomever had locked the door to unlock it. She heard shoes crunching gravel outside, but he or she refused to answer her cries.
Daniel strained to lift the huge tracked door.
“It’s locked,” she said. “You’ll never budge it.” Either the person outside was completely deaf or else he’d deliberately locked them inside the garage. She pounded on the door until her fists ached.
A splashing noise made her stop pounding. She lowered her gaze to her shoes where liquid seeped beneath the door. The sick-sweet stench of gasoline made her gag. Daniel must have smelled it, too, because he grabbed her arm and dragged her backward.
“Open that door!” she screamed. “Open it right now!”
A dull whoosh answered. Stunned she stared as fingers of bluish flame flickered under the door. Smoke seeped through the cracks in the wooden wall.
“Well, cupcake,” Daniel said, his voice eerily calm. “Looks like you actually do need me.”
Dried out by winter winds the wooden garage caught fire with astonishing speed. Thick black smoke filled the interior. Coughing and gagging, she pulled the collar of her coat over her mouth and nose.
“Is there another way out?” He grabbed her arm and dragged her across the floor. They stumbled over cans, boxes and tools. She stubbed her toes and banged her shins in her haste to escape the flames.
She pointed at windows she could barely see through the smoke. “They’re too small. We’re trapped!”
The horrendous noise was as frightening as the increasing heat and smoke. Rushing and crackling, the flames sounded like a ravenous beast gnawing through the wooden walls. Outside, people were shouting. Something clanged against the tracked garage door. Janine screamed to let them know she and Daniel were trapped. Her throat and lungs burned.
Daniel practically jerked her off her feet. He grabbed a box that sat against a wall and tossed it aside. He was a shadow creature tearing through debris. Without knowing why he acted as he did she relied on instinct and helped toss aside boxes and cans. Smoke blacked out the light from the windows and flames. She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs were afire. Tears streamed from her burning eyes. She lost all sense of direction. A box slipped from her weakening fingers and dropped on her foot. She barely acknowledged the pain. She wanted out. Away from the flames and the smoke and the horrible noise.
“Watch out!” Daniel yelled. He caught her arm and shook her. “Don’t move.”
She sensed more than saw him whirl. He kicked the wooden wall. Wood snapped with a resounding crack. He kicked it again and then a third time. Daylight glimmered beyond the smoke. He shoved a broken plank, twisting it until the fastening nails gave way.
He shoved her into the hole. Her coat caught. Wood squeezed her shoulders and hips and a protruding nail caught her scalp. She wriggled and squirmed, aided by Daniel pushing her from behind.
She popped free and went sprawling onto her hands and knees. She choked and gagged. Her tortured throat felt as if sandpaper scraped it raw. Hands helped her off the gravel. Excited voices swirled around her. She tried to tell people Daniel was still inside, but only a croak emerged.
People dragged her out of the yard, away from the garage which was now burning out of control. Sparks and cinders and ash drifted like hot snow. People used hoses and buckets of water to fight the flames. She struggled to rise, but hands held her down on a patch of frozen grass. Unable to see more than a blur of faces and bodies she gulped sweet, fresh air into her aching lungs.
“Hey, cupcake.” Daniel dropped onto the grass beside her.
With a cry, she hugged him. He pulled her onto his lap and held her as if he never meant to let her go. He stank of smoke. His arms felt wonderful. Grateful he’d survived, she buried her face against his neck and sobbed in relief.
By the time the volunteer fire department trucks arrived, the garage had burned nearly to the ground. Resort employees had managed to prevent the fire from spreading to nearby trees and buildings, but the garage and its contents were a complete loss. A pall of dark smoke hovered over the resort. The stench of burned rubber and chemicals filled the air.
“Janine!” Kara dropped to her knees and hugged both Janine and Daniel.
“I’m okay,” Janine croaked. It hurt to talk. She coughed. “We’re okay.”
Soot blackened Daniel’s face. His eyes glittered like burnished flint. She knew what he was thinking, because she was thinking the same thing herself. Pinky would pay for this.
It was nearly midnight before Janine finished with the paramedics and the sheriff. The paramedics had wanted to transport her to a hospital. Along with smoke inhalation she had a gash in her forehead from a rusty nail. She’d allowed them to bandage the cut and to treat her with a few whiffs of oxygen to clear her lungs, but refused to leave the resort. She told the sheriff about the stalker. He kept asking whether she was sure she didn’t know who Pinky was, as though if he asked enough times she would suddenly know. His attitude said there was something wrong with her. A few of his questions made her think he blamed her for goading Pinky into setting the fire.
She retreated to her bedroom. She immediately jumped into the shower as much to rid herself of humiliation as to wash away the stench of smoke.
She’d hated Pinky before. She absolutely, with all her heart and soul, detested him now.
A knock on the door made her freeze. Her heart seemed to rattle in her chest. She clutched her robe at her throat. “Who is it?”
“Daniel.”
She opened the door. Smiling, he hoisted the tray he carried. He’d showered and changed his clothing, looking none the worse for their ordeal. A leather carryall was slung over his shoulder. Glad for a friendly face, she invited him inside.
“Your sister made us some food. Sandwiches, salad. Chocolate cake.” He winked. “Bourbon. I could use a drink. How about you?”
She usually didn’t drink more than an occasional glass of wine. At the moment she wouldn’t overly object to getting good and sloshy drunk. “How are you?”
“Still tasting smoke, but I’m okay.” He dropped the bag on the floor, set the tray on a table and poured generous quantities of bourbon into a pair of crystal tumblers. “Take it neat, tough girl?”
“Not that tough. Ice and water, please.” She fiddled with the neckline of her robe. Made of heavy satin it covered her from neck to toes, but she was all too aware of her nakedness underneath. Her skin was still warm and damp from the long shower she’d taken, and the fabric clung to her hips. She watched his hands while he mixed the drinks and uncovered the food and snapped