Page 47 of The Promise
She shivered and snuggled deeper into a borrowed blanket. Her head ached and it hurt to swallow. But except for the cut on her head, she'd avoided serious injury.
Thanks to Michael.
He glanced in her direction, the smile in his eyes making her stomach turn to jelly. She sucked in a breath and turned to look at the smoldering remnants of her gallery. Everything was gone. All her paintings reduced to cinders and ashes. She felt tearsthreatening again, but angrily pushed them away. It wouldn't do any good to cry.
This was all her fault.
The man who'd sold her the building had warned her about the space heaters. Even Nick had recommended that she install central heat. But it was expensive and she'd decided that as long as she was careful, avoiding open flames, she'd be able to make do.
Famous last words.
"Cara, my God, I came as soon as I heard." Nick sat down on the cot beside her, his face flushed, as if he'd been running. "Are you all right?"
She tried for a smile but missed. "I'm fine. Really."
"I told you to replace those damn space heaters." There was a note of anger in his voice.
"I know you did. But right now I'm not up to a lecture. Okay?" She closed her eyes, wishing he'd just go away.
"I'm sorry, Cara mia. It's just that I heard the fire engines, then I saw the gallery..." His face softened, his anger dissipating. "What were you doing in there?" He gestured to the smoking rubble. "When I saw you, you were headed to Belle's for ice cream."
"I forgot to sign the manifest."
"The shipment with the Promise?"
She nodded her head, miserably. Of all she'd lost, the paintings of the mine had been the most precious to her, work that could never be duplicated.
He frowned, then grimaced, the full impact of her words hitting him. "You lost the entire series? Even the ones that had already been crated?"
Cara nodded her head, a tear sliding down the crevice between her nose and cheek.
"Pity." The word hung between them, and Cara wondered if Nick was feeling sorry for her or for himself. "Shall I drive you to the hospital?"
"No." The word came out more sharply than she had intended. "I just want to go home."
"Let me take you, then." He laid a hand on her knee and she shivered at the contact, pulling away.
"I'll take her home, Vargas." Michael reached the edge of the cot and held out a hand. "Are you ready?"
"Is it okay for us to go?" She took his hand and stood, grateful when he slipped an arm around her for support. "Thanks, I guess I'm still a little wobbly." She leaned against him, feeling his hard body against hers.
He smiled down at her. "No problem. I'd say turnabout is fair play."
"Well, I can see you're in good hands." Nick rose, too, making no effort to conceal the sarcasm in his voice. "You obviously don't need me." He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the cheek, shooting an angry glance in Michael's direction.
She felt Michael tense and his arm tightened around her. Nick's eyes met hers and his lips twisted into the semblance of a smile. Then, with a brief nod, he turned and walked away. Cara blew out a breath in relief.
"Where did he come from?" Michael watched through narrowed eyes as Nick disappeared around a corner.
"From the bar, I guess. He heard the sirens."
"You folks all right? We're fixin' to head back to the station." The fireman's teeth gleamed white against his charcoal stained face.
"We're fine. Thanks for everything." Michael released her and shook hands with the man.
Cara tried to summon the words to show her thanks, but suddenly, she wasn't sure that she had anything to be thankful for.
"Any idea what caused this?" Michael's words burned like acid against skin. She swallowed, watching the fireman's face, almost afraid to hear the answer.
