Fighting for a Dream-p

Stockland Fire Department Series, Vol. 2

By Tonya Ramagos

Jordan Dias is the fire chief’s daughter. He sternly forbade her to follow in his footsteps as he believes women have no business working in a “man’s job.” But Jordan has a dream.... In Book II of the Stockland Fire Department Series, Jordan's in for some fiery excitement. When her father retires, Jordan applies to the new chief, Bryce Tracy, for a job. If he hires her, he is sure to allienate his predecessor, who is still around acting as a volunteer. If he doesn’t, Bryce will break her heart. Or maybe his own....

ISBN 1-59431- 152pages Romance/Firefighting,

Cover Art/Maggie Dix

CHAPTER ONE

Bryce Tracy drummed his fingertips on the desk. A rid-a-tat-tat from his nails hitting the hard wooden surface ricocheted through the unnerving silence of the office. His gaze was fixed and locked with a pair of gray, cat-shaped eyes that stared back at him. Pleading yet determined eyes. Eyes that could make a man slither into a puddle of mush and, at the same time, put every nerve ending on alert. How could he say no to those eyes, to that beautiful face? How could he say no when her request had rolled from such alluring, shapely lips?

His attention focused on those lips, carnation pink, glistening from moisture and parted ever so slightly. They were set in the perfect formation for another pair of lips, his lips, to capture them in a heated kiss of passion. And if he were to ever kiss her that's exactly what it would be, passion--years of deep unrevealed passion battling for an escape. It made no difference that the striking woman in front of him was practically his sister. He wanted her and every time he looked at her he wanted her more and more.

It hadn't always been that way. Then again, she hadn't always been so beautiful. Growing up, she'd been a scrawny thing, tall with virtually no meat on her bones and a head far too large for her body. She had been easy to resist then. Oh, why couldn't she have remained that way? Saying no to that girl would have been much easier than saying no to the woman she had become. But how could he say yes and face the wrath of Cleveland Diaz? What she was asking was too much. For so many reasons, most of which Bryce knew he had to keep locked away inside.

Bringing his drumming fingers to a halt, he laid his hands flat on the desk and pushed a hard breath from his lungs. "Jordan, you realize you're putting me in a helluva spot here?" He pursed his lips together as he forced himself to gaze, once again, into her eyes and concentrate on the subject at hand rather than how badly he wanted her. "You know how I feel about your father. I have the greatest of admiration for him. I owe him so much. Hell, I practically owe him my life!"

Jordan returned his fixed and potent stare, seemingly attempting to keep her expression blank and emotionless. Still, the scowl that briefly overtook her luscious lips was hard to miss.

"You, of all people, should know I'm not making excuses." Bryce pushed himself to a standing position behind the desk. "It's the truth. Your father pulled me under his wing when I had nowhere else to go. He taught me everything I know. He's the reason I'm Chief of this department now." He indicated his surroundings with a flourish of his arm.

The office was small, not much larger than a walk-in closet found in a master bedroom. The walls were panted a soft shade of ivory trimmed in red tying in the décor with the walls of the station outside the office. The furnishings were spare; an executive style desk sat before the only window in the room, a five drawer metal filing cabinet occupied one corner while an American flag hung from a tall base in another. In front of the desk were two brown leather visitor chairs. Despite the usual cozy atmosphere of the office, Bryce felt as though the room was closing in around him as his attention remained planted on the occupant of one of those brown leather chairs.

Jordan remained seated. Although her perfect posture visibly stiffened, her glare on him didn't give an inch. "I know you feel you owe my father a lot--"

"Then you understand that undermining his decision isn't exactly how I planned to repay him for all of the years of kindness he's shown me," Bryce interrupted her a bit too coldly.

Undermining his decision? Hell, it would be more like spitting in the old man's face! Bryce had promised to continue running the Stockland Fire Department the way Cleveland and his predecessors had done for nearly a century. Bryce was the first Chief in the history of the department that was not of Diaz blood. Had Cleveland been blessed with a son, Bryce was certain he would have never seen the rank of Chief. But Cleveland didn't have a biological son. Therefore, he had entrusted the department to Bryce. Bryce knew if he gave into Jordan's request he wouldn't merely be changing what had become a department policy, he would be asking to become the worst enemy of Cleveland Diaz--something no man in their right mind would ever intentionally ask for.

"So you're saying you won't help me." Jordan folded her arms across her chest. The muscle in her jaw worked as she clenched her teeth together. Those tantalizing gray eyes smoldered with anger.

"I didn't say that."

"So you're saying you will?" The anger instantly swept away, her eyes lit up like a pair of stars in the blackest of night skies. They were eyes a man could drown in and damned if he didn't feel himself going down. No amount of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation would be able to save him.

"I didn't say that either."

What had he said? Nothing. How could he when he had no idea what to say? The situation was precarious, his choices very slim. He could say yes, watch the happiness consume the woman he secretly loved and know that he was the one who brought her that happiness. Or he could say no, salvage his father/son relationship with her father and most likely lose Jordan forever.

Words Cleveland Diaz had spoken so many times echoed through his mind. Women have no place in the fire service. They're too dainty, too weak. There isn't a woman alive that can cut it in a man's world. The only thing they're good for is handing out water bottles on fire scenes.

The problem was, deep down Bryce didn't agree with Cleveland's words, especially when the woman in question was Jordan Diaz. She may be female but dainty and weak were definitely not words that could be used to describe her. The sudden interest in physical fitness she had developed at the age of fourteen had eliminated any of that. By the age of sixteen, the once scrawny disproportioned girl had transformed into a strong tough woman with a body and mind that proved it. If given a chance, Bryce predicted she could give nearly any man on the department a run for his money.