Page 2 of Curvy Girl and the Firefighter Chief

"Unconscious female, probably smoke inhalation. Found her with a wet cloth over her face, so she was conscious enough to try protecting herself at some point," I report, stepping back to let Danny work but unable to tear my eyes away from her face.

As Danny checks her vital signs, she stirs, coughing weakly. Her eyes flutter open, revealing striking green eyes that lock onto mine for a moment before closing again.

"Pulse is strong, breathing's a bit labored, but she's getting good O2 sats now," Danny reports. "We should get her to the hospital for observation, but I think she'll be okay."

I nod, relief flooding through me even as confusion swirls in my mind. In twenty years of firefighting, I've never had such an intense reaction to anyone I've rescued. There's something about this woman that calls to something deep inside me, some primal instinct to protect and possess.

"Sir?" A police officer approaches me. "We talked with the neighbors. The victim's name is Stella Morrison, age twenty-two. Lives alone and works as a children's book illustrator."

Stella. The name suits her somehow.

"The fire appears to have started in the home office," Damon reports, joining us. "Probably electrical, but we'll need to investigate to be sure."

I nod absently, watching as the paramedics arrive and load Stella into the ambulance. I should be focusing on coordinating the cleanup, making sure the fire is entirely out, and starting the incident report.

Instead, all I can think about are those green eyes and the way she felt in my arms.

"Chief?" Damon's voice breaks through my thoughts. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I reply, forcing myself to look away from the ambulance as it pulls away. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's get this wrapped up."

But as I turn to direct my team in their final tasks, I know I'm lying. I'm not fine at all. Something has changed in that burninghouse, and somehow, I know my life will never be quite the same.

Stella Morrison has crawled under my skin in the span of a few minutes, and I have a feeling she isn't going to be easy to forget.

Chapter 2 - Stella

I first notice the steady, rhythmic beeping —incredibly annoying. My eyelids feel like they're made of lead, and my throat...

God, my throat feels like I've swallowed broken glass. I try to swallow and immediately regret it, a painful cough wracking my body.

Slowly, I force my eyes open, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights. A hospital room comes into focus—white walls, generic artwork, and the smell of antiseptic.

What happened? The last thing I remember is working on my latest illustration deadline, and then...

The fire. The memory hits me like a truck. Smoke filling my office, the terrifying realization that I was trapped upstairs. Running to the bathroom to wet a towel. After that, everything is a blur of heat and fear.

I try to sit up, but my body protests with various aches I didn't even know were possible. A groan escapes my lips, and suddenly, there's a movement to my right.

"Easy there," a deep voice rumbles, and I turn my head to find possibly the most gorgeous man I've ever seen rising from a chair by my bed.

He's tall – really tall – with broad shoulders that strain against a black T-shirt that does nothing to hide his muscular build. Dark hair with a touch of silver at the temples, a strong jaw covered in stubble, and the most intense blue eyes I've ever seen.

He looks to be in his early forties, and everything about him screams authority and strength.

"I... water?" I manage to croak out, and he immediately reaches for a cup with a straw on the bedside table.

"Small sips," he instructs, holding the straw to my lips. His hands are huge, but they move with surprising gentleness. "You've been through quite an ordeal."

I find my voice after a few blessed sips that soothe my raw throat.

"Who are you?"

A small smile tugs at one corner of his mouth, softening his otherwise serious expression.

"Luke Harrison, Pine Valley Fire Chief. I was part of the team that got you out of your house yesterday."

Yesterday? I glance at the window, noting the morning light streaming in.

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