Page 9 of Raging Inferno

She shook her head. “Nope.”

Garrett returned and gestured for her to follow. “The captain said to bring you back, Gwen Parrish’s cousin.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said to Rena as she followed Garret down the hall. Presley concentrated on calming her racing heart. He might not be the same Dominic Bianchi. Maybe he wassomeone with the same name living in the same town where the original resided years ago. An amused grin twisted her lips. Even she didn’t believe that was remotely possible. It wasn’t a common name.

Garrett ushered her through an open door. She entered the office and promptly tripped over her feet.

Dominic Bianchi was every bit as gorgeous as she remembered. More so. He was a man now. Ridiculously tall, with dark curly hair cut short, tanned skin, and deep amber eyes surrounded by thick lashes. Muscles upon muscles. And, ah, those dimples. If she had to describe her dream man, this was it.

With false bravado, she squared her shoulders and marched forward.

#

A knock sounded on Dominic Bianchi’s office door as he reviewed time sheets from the past week. “Come in.”

Garrett McGee stuck his head inside. “Hey, Bossman, there’s a woman here to see you. She doesn’t have an appointment but hoped you’d speak with her. She said to tell you she was Gwen Parrish’s cousin.”

Gwen Parrish. Damn, Dom hadn’t thought about her in years. He and Gwen had dated during their initial two years of high school. The moment he’d spotted her in the hallway during their freshman year, he’d fallen for her. He’d been totally smitten, and their adolescent love had been mutual. Sadly, their relationship had fizzled by the end of sophomore year. He’dbeen so busy playing sports, and she’d been consumed with cheerleading, that their schedules rarely meshed. It’d finally taken a toll. They’d remained friends after the breakup.

He’d been shocked to hear of her passing soon after graduation, and he’d mourned her loss. One of Dom’s football teammates had been responsible for her death and couldn’t live with what he’d done. He’d taken his life, making the ordeal doubly tragic.

Dom was supposed to have been at the party where the accident happened, but he’d been hit with a nasty case of food poisoning, keeping him chained to the bathroom. He wanted to think he could’ve done something to save Gwen if he’d been there, but it was unlikely.

Realizing Garrett was waiting for his response, he cleared his throat. “Send her back.”

Dom remembered Gwen’s young cousin Presley. She’d been a couple of years older than Dom’s daughter was now. Presley had followed Gwen everywhere. Despite being several years too young, she’d even cheered with the high schoolers.

Gwen had adored her and loved having her tag along, even on their dates. Presley had been a doll back then, with big blue eyes, long blonde hair like Gwen’s, and a sweet smile. Whenever he’d talk to her, she would giggle and hide her face. Her shyness had been adorable. He imagined she’d grown up to be a beautiful woman.

Garrett had left the door open. Dom glanced up to see him motioning for someone to enter, and he stood. He sucked in a breath as the woman strode forward confidently and held out a hand.

“Mr. Bianchi. It’s good to see you after all these years.”

“Presley?”

She tilted her head. “Yes.”

She wasn’t anything like he remembered, nor what he thought she’d look like now. Oh, she was undeniably beautiful. No doubt about that. Her hair was still long and blonde, and her blue eyes sparkled like the finest sapphires. Her creamy skin was flawless, without a wrinkle or blemish marring the surface. But this stunning woman had a hardness about her and didn’t look as if she had a shy bone in her body. She was serious and unsmiling. Intimidating.

Presley dropped her arm, and he realized he’d been staring at her instead of shaking the hand she’d offered.

“I’m sorry, you’re not what I expected.” He winced, hating thathis internal thoughts had spewed from his mouth.

“I was young, and it’s been a long time. A lifetime ago. I don’t expect you to remember me.”

“I do . . . just not . . . I mean . . .” Good lord, what was wrong with him? He was babbling like a fool. “I remembered you differently.” He shook his head. “That sounded wrong. My daughter would slug me for being so insensitive.”

“It’s okay,” she said, letting him off the hook. “I was shy and flaky.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t say that.” More like adorable. He waved a hand at the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.” Once she was settled, he assured her, “I do remember you, Presley. I even recall that you wanted to become a vet.”

“I did.”

“Oh, yeah?” Most people didn’t follow through with childhood dreams. He hadn’t, or he’d still be on an MLB roster, catching balls in the NFL, or draining three-pointers in the NBA, making millions, and playing one of the games he’d loved. “Do you have your own practice?”

“Not that kind of vet. I was in the Army.”

Dom’s jaw dropped open. “You’re kidding.”

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