Free My Wild Irish Dragon by Ashlyn Chase

certification. Oh, and by the way, your first test is tomorrow.”
    Some of the trainees groaned. Chloe imagined that many had prior obligations or busy lives and might have difficulty finding the time to read all that information overnight. However, she had no life, so she welcomed the challenge.
    â€œBefore you stress about it,” the instructor added, “this test is just a baseline to see what you already know. You don’t have to choke down all this information at once. I have a video to show you. Give me a minute to get it going.”
    Chloe glanced over at Ryan. He was already reading the booklet—like he didn’t have enough of an advantage coming from a large firefighting family. Some of them must be EMTs.
    â€œWell, I know what you’ll be doing tonight,” he said without looking over at her.
    â€œDo you now?”
    â€œI’m pretty sure you’ll be cramming for this test. Your competitive nature practically demands it.”
    Feck. When did he become such an expert on me?
    Before she had a chance to come up with a verbal response, he smiled at her. “Maybe we could study together.”
    Well, that’s a surprise. “I, uh…I’m afraid I have something I can’t get out of.” Like this crazy attraction to you. If she were a normal young woman, Ryan’s attention would be flattering and probably welcome. But she wasn’t normal. She was a dragon—more used to setting fires than extinguishing them. Imagine his surprise if he came down one morning to find her reheating his coffee with her breath.
    The video was ready and the instructor shut off the lights.
    Ryan leaned close. He smelled like the great outdoors. Trees, grass, rain… He smelled good. Too good.
    â€œCome on, Arish,” he whispered. “We’re going to have to find a way to work together eventually…”
    â€œShhh…” was all she had time to say before the video started.
    This attraction was not only inconvenient, it was potentially tragic. Her grandmother’s predictions were never wrong. She remembered her mother telling everyone about her father’s aquamarine matching her eyes and her uncle’s fluorite matching her aunt’s eyes. If she had indeed received a diamond at birth, it couldn’t be any clearer—no man had eyes for her.
    Maybe I should have become a nurse or a teacher… That annoying thought was quickly squashed when she pictured working with a bunch of bitchy females. She hadn’t been raised like most kids, that was true, but whenever the opportunity to interact with girls presented itself, the results were puzzling. Instead of making friends, she was treated as a threat. Her brother thought it was because she was too brash, so she tried adjusting her behavior to fit in, but it never worked.
    Finally, a young woman who was just passing through the village noticed the way she had been ignored after one of their musical sessions at the pub. Her brother and sister were being treated to pats on the back and free pints. Chloe was by herself, breaking down her flute and packing up the other instruments.
    The stranger invited her for a walk and they got to talking. Apparently it took an outsider to spot something she and her siblings might never have noticed: Chloe was beautiful. “Drop-dead gorgeous” were the words the stranger used. A pretty blonde with a willowy figure, she was indeed a threat to insecure women.
    All Chloe saw were her faults. She thought her limbs were too thin, her hair was too straight, and her freckles marred her ivory complexion. She envied her sister’s curly red hair and barely-there freckles that added a touch of warmth to her peach skin.
    The woman laughed. She was older than the girls Chloe tried to befriend, so maybe she was more mature too. She offered Chloe sympathy. Sympathy! For her beauty! It was a crazy idea to her at the time, but she understood better as she