Page 14 of His Fiery Mate

Tanner nodded, but his thoughts were already elsewhere. He cast one last look at the burning school, the flames reflecting in his eyes. He knew they had saved lives tonight, but the fire's relentless memory and his own inner conflict would continue to haunt him. He looked up to see Melisandre at the edge of the cordoned-off area. She gave a brief nod. The arsonist had struck again. As the hellhound within him simmered just beneath the surface, Tanner vowed they would find whoever had done this and bring them to justice.

He managed to wrangle his way through the growing crowd to reach Melisandre. “You’re sure?”

She nodded. “Nothing I can commit to paper, but this is definitely part of the growing escalation.”

CHAPTER 6

MELISANDRE

Melisandre stayed back and watched as Tanner handled the press, the families and students, and the other firefighters. She could practically feel his exhaustion. She told herself it was just her observational skills. In her mind, her drakaina snorted in amused frustration. They both knew it was the bond between fated mates that was beginning to form—the tendrils from each side reaching out to the other.

The press hounded Tanner relentlessly. He handled them with skilled aplomb. They wanted—and had for the most part succeeded—to turn him into some kind of superhero for Kodiak Island, but he always stressed that firefighting was a team effort. He often deferred to others in his unit or tried to bring someone else into the spotlight, but the reporters continued to clamor for him.

Who could blame them? He was tall, broad-shouldered, seemed to have a permanent bearded stubble, and was a firefighter. There were few women who wouldn’t be hard-pressed to say he fulfilled a lot of their dreams. Melisandre was pretty sure he was the star of many sexual fantasies on the island.

Finally, he made his way over to her, taking her hand in his. “You think it’s our guy… or girl?”

“Statistics say it is most likely a guy—at least eighty-five percent of the time. Statistics also say it is most often an unskilled worker, sexually and socially maladjusted, single, an alcoholic, and characterized by feelings of inadequacy. Unless of course it is a professional arsonist who is doing it strictly for the money.”

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Hey, Smoke,” called a reporter, “does the presence of the AIU mean the department thinks we’re dealing with an arsonist? You two are looking pretty cozy over there.”

The last thing they needed was the people of Kodiak getting into a panic over the idea there was some kind of crazed maniac trying to burn the city down. It might provoke the arsonist into either abandoning the city, which would leave them never knowing who it had been or why they had done it. The alternative was that the arsonist would escalate, and people would be killed.

Melisandre knew she needed to nip this in the bud. “Can’t a girl just come out to check on her fiancé after he’s had a tough morning?”

It was hard to tell who looked more shocked—the reporter or Tanner. Melisandre wasn’t really sure what had prompted her to answer the reporter that way, but she was awfully glad when Tanner didn’t pull away, but instead pulled her into his arms. Grinning, his mouth descended on hers, sending a flash of arousal surging through her system. The kiss was sweet, persuasive, and seductive as all get-out. His lips teased hers, as his tongue traced the seam separating upper from lower.

As if of their own accord, her hands came up to grasp his jacket, not only steadying herself as he leaned into her, forcing her back, but to pull him closer. One of his hands grasped the nape of her neck while the other made its way down from her waist to the curve of her ass.

Melisandre told herself it was just a kiss. She’d been kissed before, but nothing had ever felt like this. She’d been in situations where she’d had too much to drink and had felt tipsy or even drunk, but this was so much more. Intoxicating, out of control, and yet safe. He nibbled on her lower lip, and her mouth parted, inviting him in.

Tanner was not a man or a hellhound to refuse an invitation. His tongue surged in—commanding and yet still seductive. It tangled with hers as he fisted her hair and moved her head into the position he wanted. As the hand on her ass dragged her closer, she realized that this wasn’t merely a kiss. This was dominance, possession, and he was demanding surrender. She waited to feel anger or even disgust. Instead, all she could feel was desire coiling in her belly, making it warmer than producing fire ever had.

She’d always avoided alpha males and for good reason, and the man who was kissing her breathless was the reason. If she let him, he would take over and run her life, and yet, he had been nothing but collaborative—seeing her as more of an equal partner than a submissive one.

Even though there were layers of clothing between them, she could feel the hard ridge of his erection as it pressed against her. She moaned, and Tanner made the most of it, his tongue plunging deep to dance with hers in a kind of erotic tango.

“If only we were alone,” he groaned.

“But we aren’t,” she whispered, teasingly.

“Down the road you’ll pay for that,” he responded as he nipped her lower lip and then kissed the brief pain away.

“I don’t see a ring on her finger, Smoke,” called the reporter.

“That’s because she only said yes last night. I thought Melisandre might like to have a say in the ring she’ll be wearing the rest of her life,” he called over his shoulder. To Melisandre, he murmured, “I need to go help them.”

She nodded. “I understand. Sorry about this…”

“Are you? I’m not.”

Before she could respond, Tanner had run back to join his team. Chief Ashford strolled up to stand beside her.

“So that’s the reason your boss asked if we could find an office for you somewhere here in Kodiak.”

Melisandre turned to face him. “He did? Already, I mean? I just floated the idea past him a little while ago.”

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