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She looked away from him and ran her finger around the base of her wineglass. Sympathy for her plight, the unfairness of it, filled him, and unable to keep from doing so, he reached out and touched her hand. Her skin was warm and silky and a tingle sizzled up his arm. “What happened?”

“It got to the point where I actually feared for my life because I didn’t trust any of them to have my back.” Her eyes bored into his. “You know that your life depends on your partners. I didn’t have any. It was a small station and we all needed each other, but I couldn’t depend on them. Not one of them. I knew that with every fire, every rescue, my life was endangered. I accepted that risk. But I wasn’t willing to accept that I could be injured or even die because my coworkers wouldn’t have my back. So I quit.”

Outrage on her behalf joined sympathy and he squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Toni. How long did you tough it out?”

She slipped her fingers from his and again picked up her wineglass. Her hand shook slightly. Obviously the memories still distressed her. “A year and a half.”

He nodded, impressed. “I give you a lot of credit for hanging in that long.”

She looked at him over the rim of her glass. “You don’t think I’m a quitter?”

“Hell, no. Given the impossible circumstances, I think you did the right thing. What became of your sexual-harassment suit?”

“I dropped it. Once I quit, I didn’t want anything to do with any of it. I packed up my things and moved back home to Santa Barbara.”

“And that’s why you don’t like firefighters,” he murmured. “Now I get it. But, Toni, you know we’re not all like that. If I’d been at that station, I would have had your back.”

She shot him a clearly skeptical look. “You wouldn’t have gone along with the crowd?”

Her question hit him like a slap. “No. Not my style. Never has been.” He leaned forward and fixed his gaze on hers. “As much as I’m sympathetic to what happened to you-and believe me, I think it sucks-you’re making assumptions about me based on the bad behavior of people I don’t even know. I’ve been a firefighter for seven years and during that time I’ve worked with some great people and some real jerks. Here’s a news flash-there are great people and real jerks in every profession.” He cocked a single brow. “Probably even in the flower business.”

She blinked. Then narrowed her eyes and studied him for a long moment. He strongly sensed he was about to pass or fail some test he hadn’t studied for, so he remained silent under her regard and wished he knew what she was thinking. Finally, a sheepish expression crossed her face. “You’re right, of course. I don’t know you. You might be a prince among men-”

“My mother will tell you I am,” he broke in.

“No doubt. But it’s her job to think so. My mother would say the same about my three brothers and all of them are pains in the butt.”

“And as their sister, it’s your job to think so.”

“Touché,” she said with a quick laugh, then sobered. “I…I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m afraid that given my experiences, I cast a dubious eye on everyone in your profession.”

“Understandable-I’d feel the same way. But I’m not one of those guys. So I’m asking you not to feel that way about me. At least until you get to know me better. Then if you think I’m an asshole, well, okay.” He smiled and held out his hand. “Deal?”

Her gaze shifted down to his hand then back to his face. He could almost see the wheels turning in her mind. Could tell that she was fighting her desire to stay away from anything that had to do with firefighters, and what he hoped was desire for him. Or at least a desire to give him a chance.

Finally she extended her hand. “Deal.”

His fingers wrapped around hers and a combination of relief and anticipation raced through him. Instead of shaking her hand, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips against the back of her fingers. Her breath caught slightly at the gesture-definitely a good sign.

“I’ll have you know it took some effort for me to put aside my prejudices and make that deal,” he said. “I’ve had some very difficult dealings with florists. Most recently today.”

She nodded. “I don’t doubt it. Florists can be notoriously hard to deal with.”

“Lucky for me I like a challenge.”

Encouraged by the fact that she didn’t pull her hand away, he lightly brushed his fingers against hers, exploring their softness. Her hands were small but capable-looking, which they’d have to be for her to have passed the grueling firefighter tests. Clearly, on top of having an incredible shape, she was in good physical condition.

“So, continue your story,” he urged, scooting closer. He snagged her other hand and slowly played with her fingers. “How did you get from returning home to Santa Barbara to owning a flower shop fifty miles away in Santa Rey?”

“My family owns the largest nursery in Santa Barbara, so I grew up learning the business.”

Damn, she had the softest hands he’d ever touched. He slowly traced the length of each of her fingers with his fingertips. “You didn’t want to work at your family’s place?”

“I did. But after a few years I wanted to be my own boss. Create something that was mine. Plus, I needed to put some distance between myself and my loving but smothering family.” She looked down at their touching hands then back at him. “That’s, um, really distracting.”

He brushed the pad of his thumb over the velvety skin of her inner wrist. “Distracting in a good way?”

“Distracting in an I-can’t-remember-what-we-were-talking-about way.”

“That’s a good way. You were telling me how much you like me.”

Amusement glittered in her eyes. “Was I?”

“Yup. And you were about to tell me how it’s possible that a gorgeous, intelligent woman like you isn’t taken.”

“What makes you think I’m intelligent?”

“I’m a very good judge of character.” He smiled. “Besides, the fact that you accepted my invitation proves it.”

She rolled her eyes, but then smiled. “You know I didn’t want to.”

He turned one of her hands over and lightly traced the lines on her palm. “Yeah, I got that. I’m hoping you’re not sorry.”

“Not yet. But the night’s still young.” Her eyes seemed to darken. “That feels really…hmm…nice.”

The smoky tone of her voice had him shifting in his chair. Damn. Just her voice turned him on. What would happen if she touched him? Stupid question. He knew damn well what would happen. He’d go up in flames.

She slowly spread her fingers wider, a gesture that shouldn’t have struck him as sexy as it did. But then, he found everything about her sexy and had since minute one.

“So, why aren’t you taken?” he asked, continuing to caress her fingers.

“Actually, I am-by my business. It requires all my time and attention. Now, and for the foreseeable future.”

Obviously a not-very-subtle warning that she didn’t have time for him. A warning he was determined to ignore, and convince her to ignore, as well. “Okay, I’ll rephrase. How is it possible that an intelligent woman who looks like you, who smells as good as you do, whose skin is as soft as yours, doesn’t have a boyfriend?”

“After I discovered my last boyfriend required a dictionary, I gave him the heave-ho and haven’t felt inclined to replace him.”

“Dictionary?”

“Yes. He didn’t know the definition of some pretty basic words. Like honesty. And integrity.” She leaned a bit closer and lowered her voice as if imparting a great secret. “He thought monogamy was a type of wood.”