tion>
Internal Memo: Courage Bay City Council
From: Mayor Patrick O’Shea
Re: Increased Funding to Emergency Services
The recent aftershock that struck Courage Bay has brought home to me once again the urgency in gaining council’s approval for increased spending for the city’s emergency services.
As you know, I spent many years as a firefighter for the city, but never before has the need for extra funding been illustrated so clearly to me as the night of the aftershock. My administrative assistant, Briana Bliss, and I spent almost ten hours in a disabled elevator waiting for rescue. We requested that we be placed on low priority because we knew we were in no immediate danger. However, as you know, not all citizens of Courage Bay were as fortunate that night.
It is my belief that extra funding to our emergency services would result in quicker response times and a decrease in casualties. This past year has been a tough one for our city. We’ve had storms, forest fires, earthquakes and mudslides.
The police, fire and medical services have all been pressuring the city for larger budgets. It is hard for me to understand how anyone who loves this city as much as I do could think twice about increasing the funding. If we delay any longer, more lives will be lost. Now is the time to act.
About the Author
NANCY WARREN
USA TODAY bestselling author Nancy Warren lives in the Pacific Northwest where her hobbies include walking her border collie in the rain, hunting for antiques and mixing martinis. She’s the author of more than thirty novels and novellas for Harlequin Books and has won numerous awards. Visit her at www.nancywarren.net.
Aftershocks
Nancy Warren
Dear Reader,
This is my first ever continuity, and I have to say it’s been a wonderful experience. As an author, I found it a real challenge to write about characters I hadn’t created and a plot that wasn’t my invention, but the minute I “met” Patrick and Briana, I knew we were going to have some fun together.
The other thrill about writing for the Code Red continuity was having a chance to work with authors I love, whether they normally write for the Intrigue, Superromance or Blaze line. It was a fun, supportive group. I hope you enjoy your time in Courage Bay as much as I enjoyed mine.
Hearing from readers is one of the best parts of my job. If you’d like to drop me a line, come visit me on the Web at www.nancywarren.net.
Happy reading,
Nancy
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
PATRICK O’SHEA wanted the one thing he couldn’t have.
The knowledge burned inside him from nine in the morning until five in the afternoon every weekday—which were the hours his admin assistant, Briana Bliss, worked, plus a whole load of overtime.
It was Briana he wanted. Even admitting to himself how badly he lusted after her was dangerous. She was out of bounds. Verboten. Untouchable.
Yes, untouchable. And he wanted to touch her so badly that their constant proximity was torture.
The last time he’d wanted a woman this badly he’d married her. Patrick glanced at the picture on his desk, at the smiling face of the woman he’d loved faithfully for more than a decade, including the three years she’d been gone.
“Are you laughing, Janie?” he asked softly, tightening his tie and slipping on his suit jacket. At first when he’d started talking to the framed photo, he’d thought grief might be making him insane, but now he realized it was his way of staying in touch with his memories. Janie’s laugh had been light and quick, and he imagined she’d laugh now if she could see him.
Here he was, finally registering signs of vitality in that part of his anatomy he’d thought had died with his wife, and the woman who’d brought them rushing back was the one woman he couldn’t have. Not without going against his principles and destroying his career, his credibility and his reputation.
“Honey, you never should have left,” he told Janie, knowing that he’d never have thought about Briana sexually if he were married. Janie knew it, too.
She’d been a warm and generous woman who would never want her children to remain motherless for long—or her husband a widower.
“Maybe this is a sign I’m ready to look around? Maybe lots of women would get to me this way?”
Janie didn’t reply, merely stared back, forever young, forever smiling.
A soft knock sounded, and the oak door of his office opened. He didn’t have to turn to know who had entered. Every male atom in his body—and they were all male—quivered to attention.
He turned and, even though he’d known it was Briana, was still slammed by the force of attraction. God, she was beautiful. Blond and green-eyed, she had a generous mouth and a determined chin. Her blouse wasn’t tight or revealing, yet her spectacular curves made it seem both. Her skirt was straight and hung to below her knees, but he had enough imagination to sketch in what couldn’t be seen.
At six foot three, he was used to looking down on women, but Briana was tall. Six feet, probably, when she wore those sexy high heels he loved. Like the ones she had on today.
“You’ve got to hurry,” she told him with a quick smile. “Don’t want to keep the chief of police waiting for his dinner.”
“I hope Max is more worried about how to make this city safer than he is about what’s on his plate,” Patrick grumbled. Still, he patted his pockets rapidly to make sure he had his wallet, then grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door, holding it so Briana could pass through ahead of him. She stopped to pick up her shoulder bag on the way out, which meant she was going home, too. Good. Too often, it seemed, she worked more hours than he did.
The scent of her reached him. Not her perfume—he didn’t think she wore any—but some kind of skin lotion that smelled like the sea air out here in Courage Bay right after it rained. Clean and fresh and bracing.
The scent wasn’t remotely sexy, but it turned his libido inside out. He shook his head as he shut the door behind him. The door didn’t fit perfectly into the frame and he had to shove it with his hip before he could lock it—one more reminder of last month’s earthquake. The way things were going, he doubted the city would ever get around to fixing the minor damage done to city hall. The mayor’s door was definitely at the bottom of the list.
At the top of Patrick’s