In FAN THE FLAMES, Scarlett Harrison and her 4-year-old daughter, Colleen, are
finally
heading home to St. Louis after spending two years in their San Diego
home grieving the loss of a Navy Seal husband and father.
Receiving an invitation from former Navy Seal Brad Silverman, her
husband's best friend from high school, they are offered a place to
live at his 100-year-old historical home that Brad has beautifully
restored.
Scarlett has held his heart since the beginning of time, but Brad backed
off when his friend revealed his intent to pursue her. Now Brad
has the task of looking after his friend's widow. Brad's sole
interest now is working on the St. Louis Fire Department's Marine
Unit Task Force as a water rescuer and firefighter. Years ago, Scarlett had
feelings for Brad that were never realized and she still
finds him hot and sexy; especially when he is Mr. July in the Sexy
Public Servants of St. Louis calendar. Scarlett agrees to
accompany him to the Mayor's Ball to help ward off the overzealous
females since the calendar appeared. Trying to keep his distance
doesn't work and it isn't long before both of their libidos are sizzling
and driven to hot, bone melting sex. Things are going in the right
direction until Scarlett finds a letter from her husband, and now
she feelings Brad has lied to her about everything. It takes a
tragedy to bring Scarlett to her senses and to grab the life she truly
wants with the man she loves.
I truly enjoyed this tender and heart-warming story of tragedy that
turns into a fulfilling and lasting love. The characters are lovable
and caring, and provide the comfort due a grieving widow and her
daughter. This is a book from the Man of the Month series, and Michele
Dunaway certainly knows how to make her men hot and gorgeous.
Brad is a buff, warm and considerate guy who every woman
dreams of having for her own. Bringing a man and woman together
after years of denial has made this an excellent tearjerker.
This is the first I have had the pleasure of reading from Michele
Dunaway, but certainly not the last. This is guaranteed to leave the
reader in a tender and happy state of mind (and lots of used
Kleenex).
Former Navy SEAL turned marine rescue firefighter Brad
Silverman is tasked with his toughest mission yet: taking
care of his best friend's wife. The only problem is that
Scarlett Harrison has always been the one-the one who got
away, the one who held his heart, and the one who has
always
been off limits...
Now widowed Scarlett returns to her childhood home in St.
Louis, determined to get her life back on track. She
misses
her husband but can't fight the attraction she feels for
sexy fireman Brad. As she spends more time with him, the
connection they have had since high school grows
stronger.
Are they finally ready to overcome their pasts and lose
their hearts to each other?
Excerpt
The alarm beeped once, indicating it was already turned
off.
She frowned, then relaxed as she saw Brad’s coat tossed
over one of the chairs surrounding the island. He must be
upstairs working on the third floor. She hung her coat on
the peg rack he’d installed and set her purse on the
counter. She ascended the back stairs, and because she
assumed he was one more floor up, paid little attention
to where she was going. With a thump, she ran straight
into him as he was exiting the hall bathroom.
“Oh.” She stepped backward, and Brad’s hands reached out
and steadied her before she lost her footing and fell
backward down the stairs.
“Careful.” He swung her around so she was fully in the
hall. A shockwave powered through her. He leaned down and
studied her, brown eyes concerned. “You okay?”
She gulped, but no words came out. Brad wore nothing but
a white towel slung low over his hips, and it gaped above
the knee, giving her a good glimpse of rock-hard thigh.
She swallowed as her gaze traced the line of dark hair
that made a path from his navel to the towel. A drop of
water fell from his tussled hair and slid down his right
pectoral. His abs went beyond six-pack. Another clear
droplet fell. He’d been in the shower. Gone was the sexy
stubble—his clean-shaven face smelled of cypress and
eucalyptus.
She brought her gaze back to a face that was watching her
intently. “You okay?” he asked again.
“I . . . I . . .” Her mouth dried. She felt fire. She
wanted to lick the water from his chest, taste the salt
of his skin. Follow that thin little scar over his heart.
As if it had a mind of its own, her hand moved to that
spot. Touched. Traced. A tremble went through him and his
breath hissed. His hand covered hers and drew hers away.
“Stop.”
“What? Does it hurt?”
His eyes darkened. “No. It’s long healed. But you can’t
touch me like that. I can’t hold it together if you do.”
“Oh.” She absorbed the implications. It was hard to
concentrate. His hand held hers. Seeing him wearing
nothing but a quick-dry towel fried her equilibrium. His
free hand gripped the towel, which tented in front. She
wanted that white cloth to fall to the floor, expose what
was beneath. Every one of her pores longed for more of
his touch. Heat built. Was she wet? Holy hell. She fought
for control.
She felt a bit light-headed. Weak at the knees. He must
have sensed that, because he immediately let her hand go
and snaked that arm around her waist, steadying her. Her
hands pressed up against that rock-solid chest. Her legs
intertwined with his; she could feel his erection. Her
eyes dilated. Oh God. This desire was different from any
she’d experienced. The overwhelming urge to have him
inside her roared, filling her with pure need.
“You look woozy. Are you getting sick?”
“No.” Not unless every one of her dormant hormones
powering back to life counted. Her knees buckled.
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