From Winter's Ashes: Girl Next Door Crime Romance Series - Book Two Read Free Page A

deep laugh lines bracketing her wistful smile sighed dramatically, patting her chest.
    White knight? Joselyn’s mind raced back to the last semi-lucid moment she could remember. Powerful arms surrounded her as she collapsed into his embrace. And then, in the split second before she’d surrendered to the darkness, she’d felt relief so deep that it lingered now—stronger than the fear from the fire, more powerful than any emotion she’d ever carried.
    “… still in the waiting room.”
    She shook her head, blinking away the encroaching tears. “Huh?” Perhaps the potent combination of smoke and fear had brought on a hallucination. “I’m sorry, is my father here?”
    “That’s right, someone said you’re Declan Whyte’s daughter.”
    Joselyn could only nod her confirmation as the nurse continued. “I’m sorry, dear. That cutie-patootie firefighter got ahold of him, but unfortunately your father is out of town on business. Said he’d be back the day after tomorrow, I think.”
    Joselyn hardened her jaw; ground her molars with enough force to shave away enamel. But that only intensified the pain spearing through each temple, so she tried to massage the ache except the heart-rate-finger-clip-thingy jabbed awkwardly against the tender spot on one side. Giving up, she let her head fall back against the hospital bed and closed her eyes to try to hide the hurt, both physical and emotional. “Uhh, you said the firefighter called my dad?” The words scraped like sandpaper.
    “Yeah, he seemed to know how to get through to him. You were out cold when you were admitted. We didn’t have the emergency contact information, and your father is one difficult man to get in touch with.”
    “You have no idea,” Joselyn mumbled.
    “Well, the doctor will be by in a little while to go over a few things. Your call button is here on the bed. Do you need anything before I go?”
    It all felt like a bad dream. One she couldn’t fully remember. The slivers of surviving memory only served to revisit her pain and panic yet leave her with more unanswered questions. Was there anything left of her house? Where would she go? How could her dad not be here? Did anyone else know she was here? Did anyone care? How had the fire start—
    “Sugar, you okay?”
    Joselyn glanced at her name badge. Shelby. She looked like a Shelby. Sort of sweet and southern, with soft, caring eyes. Digging deep, she recited the familiar words. “I’m fine. Thank you, Shelby.”
    With a reassuring pat of her hand, Shelby turned to make her way out. She paused by the door, and Joselyn released the breath she’d been holding. I lied. I’m not fine. Please, don’t leave me all alone .
    “By the way, your hero is still here. Been waitin’ to see you.”
    So not what Joselyn had expected her to say. And as if her body knew something she didn’t, Joselyn’s heart set off at a gallop. A series of escalating beeps exposed the silly flutter zipping through her veins. Shelby cast a knowing smirk at the screen.
    Stupid heart-rate monitor!
    “Oh, my. This is better than my programs. Shall I send him in?” She raised a puckish eyebrow.
    “Umm, y-yeah. I guess that’d be okay.” Joselyn cringed. If she couldn’t play it cool with the nurse, how big of a mess was she going to be for the supposedly hot firefighter guy? Hmm … hot firefighter. Such dramatic irony.
    Shelby set off in her plotting, and Joselyn tried to calm her fraying nerves. Didn’t the nurse say that when her rescuer got to her all her clothes had burned off?
    Great! So he’s already seen me naked! And not like standing or attractively posed—not that it would have occurred that way anyhow; exhibitionist ventures, so not her thing—but slumped and unconscious in his arms. Oy vey!
    And any moment now her “Whyte knight,” as he would probably be dubbed, would waltz in to discover her all crusty and scraggly in nothing but a limp, mint green hospital gown.
    There was no explaining the