Lisa Childs - Hot Attraction

Why? If she really wanted that special feature...

Kim seemed puzzled, as well. She glanced at the front door as if she expected her sister to step back through it.

Why had Avery left so abruptly? She’d said she wanted the real story of the fire. Dawson suspected that was actually why she wanted to interview him. But maybe she had another source. And what better source than the arsonist himself? Braden Zimmer could be right. Again. The man had excellent instincts when it came to his job; too bad he hadn’t had them when it came to his personal life.

Dawson wouldn’t make the mistake his boss had. He wasn’t going to risk his heart on any relationship—especially one with a reporter.

Reporters rarely revealed their sources, but if the sisters were close, Avery might have confided in her. Maybe Kim knew whether or not the arsonist had contacted her.

“Did she have to rush off to meet someone?” he asked.

Kim’s brow furrowed and she asked him, “Who would she be meeting here in Northern Lakes?”

“A man?” Arsonists were usually male.

Kim laughed. “You’re the only man I thought she was interested in meeting.”

“For a story,” he said.

But Kim’s eyes—so much like her sister’s—narrowed speculatively. “I’m not so sure that’s the only reason she’s interested in you...” Then her face flushed a bright red as she realized what she’d revealed.

Dawson laughed. Avery wasn’t really interested in him, only what information she could get from him.

But if she was attracted to him, Dawson wasn’t certain he’d be able to resist her. Because he was so damn attracted to her, too.

5

AVERY WAS USED to people watching her. That was, after all, what a reporter wanted—to be watched. To get the most airtime. To get the best ratings...

But she wasn’t on the air now. She wasn’t even out in public. She was walking the road between her sister’s house and hers, which was rural with just a few houses on her sister’s side. The houses on the other side sat far back—on the beach of one of Northern Lakes’s biggest lakes. Hers was just around the curve in the road, at the end of a long driveway.

Even though the sun set later now that summer had finally arrived, the tall trees blocked its light—making the day seem darker and later than it was. And colder. She shivered. She should have remembered how it got colder at night in Northern Lakes and dressed accordingly—the way Dawson Hess had been dressed. In jeans and a long sleeved black T-shirt. It wasn’t his Hotshot uniform, but he’d still been sexy as hell.

Remembering how he’d looked, how his light amber gaze had traveled the length of her body when she walked to the door, heat flushed her body. She didn’t need warmer clothes, after all—she just needed to think of him.

There was something about him...

Maybe she found him so attractive because he wasn’t trying to get her attention, the way men usually did. If she were to believe him, he hadn’t even stopped by her sister’s house to see her. He’d come over to see the twins.

Was he telling the truth?

Did he have no interest in his fifteen minutes of fame? No interest in her?

She shivered again, but it was because of that eerie feeling she’d had since she’d left her sister’s—the feeling that someone was watching her.

But who?

Nobody else was out walking. And the houses were set so far back from the road no one could have been watching her from their window. Were her instincts failing her? Or maybe she was just paranoid.

The trees thinned as she drew closer to her cottage. She’d painted the vertical wood siding a pale turquoise with white shutters and trim. As usual, she smiled when she saw what she’d had done to the place—how cute she’d made it. She didn’t live in Northern Lakes anymore, but she’d bought the cottage as an investment a few years ago. Most of the time she rented it out to vacationers. But occasionally she used it herself.

She should have stayed at her sister’s a little longer, or at least said goodbye rather than ducking out while Dawson was busy with the twins. But they’d been so excited to see him that she hadn’t wanted to interrupt their time together. And maybe her pride had been stung a little that he hadn’t come to see her. She wasn’t used to men refusing her requests or her kisses.

Of course, he had kissed her...

Maybe that was why she’d left—because she’d wanted him to kiss her again. And she couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. She needed to break a big story, so she wasn’t reduced to covering fluff pieces. She wanted to be a serious reporter, not eye candy for the network. Was the fire a serious story? Was there more to it than had been released to the media?

She needed to find out—which was probably why she should have stayed. She should have interrogated Dawson Hess.

Her hand trembled a little as she reached for her door. The knob turned easily. It wasn’t locked. She hadn’t bothered. After all, this was Northern Lakes; nothing bad ever happened in Northern Lakes.

But the fire...

And that would have been a whole lot worse if not for the Hotshots. If not for Dawson.

Like Wyatt, he deserved to be acknowledged for his heroism. He deserved the special feature she wanted to do. But when she’d thought that was why he tracked her down, she’d been disappointed. She didn’t want him to be like most of the men she’d known. She didn’t want him to be arrogant and self-involved. She wanted him to be the true and modest hero he seemed to be. Hell, she just wanted him...

He obviously didn’t feel the same attraction she felt, though. Was that just because she was a reporter? She knew the press got a bad rap for being nosy and relentless. But Dawson’s aversion seemed more personal than that.

She pushed open her front door and a breeze caught her off guard. She must have left the sliders open to the back deck. The breeze off the lake pushed the curtains into the open area. The living, dining and kitchen areas were all one big room—all painted a paler shade of blue than the outside. The kitchen cabinets had been made out of wainscoting and painted a soft white. The furniture was all slipcovered in white linen—like the window coverings. And in that breeze, the long white curtains billowed like dancing ghosts.

She shivered at the breeze and at the faint scent she caught on it. Smoke.

Had someone been smoking inside her cottage?

Had someone been inside while she was gone?

And, if so, had they left or were they still here? Her heart beat hard and fast as fear rushed through her. If she’d been in Chicago, she would have had her Mace with her. But she’d left her purse, with the Mace inside, in the bedroom. Nobody ever stole anything in Northern Lakes. So she’d thought her purse—and she—would be safe. But now she gazed around, looking for a weapon.

There were no trees on the beach side, so the cottage was lighter than the driveway had been. But the curtains filtered that light, casting shadows around the open room. Doorways led off it to a bedroom and bath on each end. Someone could be in any of those rooms—waiting for her.

But why?

This was Northern Lakes. But she hadn’t lived here in a long time. Maybe things had changed. Maybe bad things did happen in Northern Lakes...

* * *

AVERY HAD WALKED home alone. Her sister had said it as if it was no big deal—as if there was no risk for a woman to be out alone at dusk.

“It’s not like she’s in Chicago now,” Kim had remarked when she’d noticed his wary reaction.

True. But that didn’t mean she was safe in Northern Lakes, either. If the arsonist was in contact with her, it might mean she was in even more danger than if she’d been alone in a big city.