Chistmas In Manhattan Collection. Alison Roberts

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Chistmas In Manhattan Collection - Alison Roberts


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inferno and his uniform clung to him like a second skin, as did his sweat-smashed helmet hair.

      That’s why he felt dizzy.

      Not because of whatever the odd emotion in—he glanced at her name badge—Dr. Sarah Grayson’s eyes had been.

      Rather than say anything further to him, she gave more orders to the nurse, ordering tests and treatments and things that were vaguely familiar but went far beyond Jude’s basic first-aid skills.

      “I need to intubate stat,” she told the nurse. “She has internal swelling that’s going to get worse. We need to act now before her airway becomes too swollen to get the tube down.”

      She said what size intubation tube she wanted and what anesthetic she’d like Keeley to be given to ease the discomfort of having the line introduced down her throat and into her lungs. If the girl regained consciousness, she wouldn’t want it to be due to discomfort while being intubated.

      As if she’d predicted what was about to happen, Keeley’s oxygen saturation dropped several points and the monitor alarm sounded.

      Everyone hurried, setting up trays, responding to whatever Sarah told them to do. A nurse asked Jude to step back and he did so, knowing he was in the way while holding Keeley’s arm.

      Letting the girl’s wrist go left him feeling bereft. As long as he’d been feeling the warmth of her skin, he could tell himself she was going to be okay, that he hadn’t been too late.

      * * *

      Exhausted, but running on adrenaline, Sarah went to the private waiting area where she’d had a nurse bring Jude hours ago.

      The emergency room had calmed down just enough for Sarah to take a much-needed break. She’d suspected her neighbor would still be in the small private lounge, waiting until he was allowed to see the girl in the pediatric intensive care unit where Sarah had transferred her to once she’d established an airway and stabilized the girl.

      Thank God she’d gotten the line in on the first try. Keeley’s lung tissue had already swollen and Sarah had felt the extra resistance.

      She’d checked on the girl’s mother and younger sister, who’d also been checked into the emergency department. Apparently, they’d gotten out of the fire much earlier than Keeley as their injuries had been minor and they’d arrived by private car.

      The young mother had been allowed to see Keeley for a few minutes, then the worn-out woman and her toddler daughter had left the hospital with a friend as her businessman husband spent a lot of time working overseas.

      Sarah couldn’t imagine what the mother was going through, to have lost her home, her things, and to have almost lost one of her daughters.

      The woman had just left and, although Keeley wasn’t allowed visitors, Sarah planned to let Jude see the girl if he was still there.

      A firefighter? Who would have believed the sexy man she lived next door to was an everyday hero who risked his life to save others?

      Not her that morning, for sure.

      Good grief, he could have been killed.

      Paul, one of her favorite paramedics, had later brought in a pedestrian who’d been hit by a taxi. He’d gone on and on about his buddy Jude and what a real-life hero he was.

      A real-life hero who was apparently as dog-tired as she was.

      Stretched out in a chair, his eyes closed, Sarah took advantage of the opportunity to freely look at him.

      As much as was possible for someone as unbelievably handsome as he was, he looked awful. His hair was matted to his head. He reeked of smoke and sweat and dirty man. His heavy overcoat was in the chair next to the one he slept in.

      He needed a shower.

      Which, of course, brought her brain back to that morning when he’d been squeaky clean and wrapped in a towel.

      She closed her eyes.

      No. No. No.

      She did not want that image in her mind. Not now. Not when she looked at him and saw a man who’d risked his life to save a little girl.

      Not when she saw someone who might have substance beneath those chiseled abs.

      She didn’t want to like him.

      He was a playboy.

      Then again, maybe he went through so many women because of not wanting to get into a serious relationship due to his high-risk job.

      No, she corrected herself again. No. No. No. She was not going to make excuses for his womanizing ways.

      Wasn’t going to happen.

      Only then he opened his eyes and caught her staring.

      The intensity in his baby blues warned she might make lots of excuses for this man.

       CHAPTER THREE

      “KEELEY,” JUDE SAID, fighting a yawn as he sat up in the waiting-room chair.

      Even as hyped up as he’d been from the fire search and rescue, he couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep. Then again, searching a burning building drained a man from the anxiety, the adrenaline, the extreme heat, the sweat. Sometimes after a rescue he’d feel so tired he thought he might sleep a week.

      “Is she still alive?” He prayed so. He’d gotten to her as quickly as he could. He knew that. But sometimes as quick as a person could just wasn’t enough.

      “Yes, she’s stable,” his neighbor told him from where she stood a few feet away. “It was touch and go for a short bit due to her pulmonary edema, but she responded to the medications and is holding her own.”

      He let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

      Looking more than a little tired herself, Sarah sank into the chair opposite him and stared across the few feet separating them.

      Which gave him the opportunity to study her face full on.

      She really did have amazing eyes. And great cheekbones.

      Her lips were full and perfectly bowed. Kissable.

      Where had that thought come from?

      “Actually, all the thanks go to you. I shudder to think what would have happened if you hadn’t found her.”

      He knew what would have happened and that was why he did his job. He loved being a firefighter. Not that he could save every person, but he gave it his best. Always.

      “Every firefighter’s nightmare. Not finding someone,” he admitted, raking his fingers through his matted hair. “The kind of stuff that messes with your head.”

      Maybe he should have gone home, showered, then come back. He supposed that would have been better than passing out in a private waiting area. Yet he’d not been able to leave. Not until he’d known Keeley was okay.

      Sarah’s plump lower lip disappeared between her teeth for a brief second, and then she asked, “Does it mess with your head, Jude?”

      Her saying his name for the first time messed with his head.

      Big time.

      Which made no sense.

      As hadn’t the fact he found her lips kissable.

      She wasn’t the type of woman he messed around with. He preferred women who knew the score and were okay with that. Dr. Sarah Grayson didn’t seem the one-night-stand kind.

      Yet he’d be lying if he didn’t admit there was something about her that appealed to him in a major way.

      Must be the day he’d had and that despite the fact he’d chugged a couple of sports drinks, he still felt dry to the bone.

      “Some


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