Free Playing with Fire by Mia Dymond Page B

air as the
nightmare began to fade. Pawing his aching chest, he managed to
swing both feet over the side of the bed and cram his head between
his knees. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he fought
the urge to punch a hole in the wall. After several seconds, he
lifted his wrist. Three thirty a.m. Right on time.
    He glanced at the empty bedside chair. Thank
God Liberty kept her end of the bargain. Convinced he could
maneuver to the bathroom without collapsing, he stood and untangled
the damp sheet from his waist. He paused and listened to the
silence. Liberty didn’t seem to be disturbed.
    Once inside the bathroom, he snapped the door
closed. The shower knobs squeaked as he turned them, reassuring him
help was on the way. He stood under the tepid water while tears
raced the droplets down his body. He didn’t even try to stop
them.
    He braced his arms against the wall and
rested his forehead on top. One step forward, a hundred back. Maybe
he should just ask Liberty to commit him. At least then they’d
shoot him full of mind-numbing medication. He’d sleep and drool but
at least he wouldn’t dream.
    He reached down, turned off the water, and
then yanked a towel from the rack. He rubbed his body from head to
toe, as if that would wipe away the remains of the nightmare. If
only that were possible.
    He knotted the towel at his waist and stepped
from the shower just as a knock penetrated the silence.
    “Shane?”
    He couldn’t bring himself to speak. He was
still too raw, too vulnerable, too weak. Instead, he turned the
doorknob and the door popped open. Moisture coated his hands as he
ran them through his wet hair. He squared his shoulders and did his
damndest to hide his pain.
    Without a word, Liberty took a step forward,
molded her soft curves to his hard, aching body, and wrapped her
arms around him. She squeezed tight, as if she could strangle the
nightmare from his mind.
    He relaxed into her touch and filled himself
with her strength. He felt safe there, as if the universe was truly
balanced in her arms. Warm, soft, secure. Far away from the demons
in his head.
    “Fred Flintstone?” she whispered.
    He smiled and tucked a wayward tendril of
hair behind her ear. “Yeah, as soon as I get dressed.”
    She returned his smile and turned to
leave.
    “Liberty,” he croaked.
    She stopped and looked over one shoulder.
“Yes?”
    “You have a healing touch.”
    Her cheeks colored under the heat of his
gaze. “I’ll turn on the television.”
    He pulled a pair of clean sweats over his
hips and ran his hand across his chest, amazed that the pain
dissipated. Her soft embrace shook him. Her touch left him edgy. He
glanced at his erection and shook his head. You are one cocky
sucker .
    He reached for a clean t-shirt and then
changed his mind. Liberty seemed to appreciate his chest. He headed
back to the living room. Maybe it would distract her from
therapy.
    “I have an idea,” she suggested as he sat
next to her on the sofa. “Since you’re awake early most mornings,
why don’t we use that time for your sessions?”
    “You don’t mind getting up at three o’clock
in the morning?”
    “No,” she admitted softly.
    His interest piqued at her admission and he
wondered if she realized what she suggested. The powerful, magnetic
attraction between them would make it impossible for their
relationship to remain professional - not that he would be
disappointed. But would she? Her desire to help him was crystal
clear, but sooner or later her good intentions would be
tempted.
    “I’m in,” he agreed quickly.
    “Good,” she said. “What channel?”
    He palmed the remote and pushed the
pre-programmed button. Fred and Dino greeted them personally.

CHAPTER SIX
     
     
    Forensic terms pulsed and blurred as Shane
strained to focus on the arson reports scattered across the desk in
front of him. The last two hours of reading had once again proved
uneventful. Not only because he hadn’t found anything new buried in
the