The Firefighter to Heal Her Heart. Annie O'Neil
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ANNIE O’NEIL spent most of her childhood with a leg draped over the family rocking chair and a book in her hand. Novels, baking, and writing too much teenage angst poetry ate up most of her youth. Now, quite a few years on from those fevered daydreams of being a poet, Annie splits her time between corralling her husband (and real-life Scottish hero) into helping her with their cows or scratching the backs of their rare breed pigs, and spending some very happy hours at her computer, writing. Find out more about Annie at her website: www.annieoneilbooks.com
The Firefighter to Heal Her Heart
Annie O’Neil
First of all let me give you a big, fat, juicy thank you for reading my second book! I’ve been having an absolute blast, diving headfirst into the world of Mills & Boon® Medical Romance™, and will have to be dragged out kicking and screaming.
Writing this book was a no-brainer for me after The Surgeon’s Christmas Wish, as Liesel was a character who really stayed with me. I wanted to see what happened to her after she moved from America back to Australia—and lo and behold … romance ensues! And a quest for chocolate milkshakes. But I’m jumping the gun here …
Liesel’s story is set in an area where I picked grapes (!) during a backpacking trip I had in Australia. I had an absolutely amazing time there, and was impressed by how supportive all those small communities just outside of Adelaide are.
Many thanks to you again, and I hope you enjoy Liesel and Jack’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Have fun!
Annie O X
This book is first and foremost dedicated to all of those who volunteer for the South Australian Fire Service.
You are all heroes and heroines in my eyes.
I would also like to send a special nod (and a glass of wine) to my fabulous sister-in-law, who has been an incredible source of encouragement to me.
Lots of love to you, Kymberley.
Table of Contents
Dear Reader
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
“SO, DO YOU think we should practice a tiger or a lion roar?”
Liesel was finding it difficult not to laugh as she knelt on the barnyard’s baked red earth, eye to eye with the tearful seven-year-old. This hadn’t turned out to be the farm visit Devlin had been dreaming of. Or her, for that matter. She’d been nabbed by a harried teacher to come along on the school farm visit as a “responsible adult.” The promise of some spring sunshine had won out over the nagging in her head about knuckling down to fill out the school’s immunization requirements. The “responsible adult” moniker had made her laugh at the time but now, as she kept Devlin still in the ominously named cattle crush, she knew her nurse’s credentials could come in handy.
How Devlin had managed to stick his head through the metal bars designed to keep cows restrained was beyond her. His penchant for showing off might have been the trouble. Now he was paying the price. All of the students had howled with laughter before being shuttled off to help feed the orphan lambs. The farmer, Mr. Jones, hadn’t been very quiet with his use of the word guillotine when he realized the CFS was going to have to be called. Thank goodness the word was unlikely to be in Devlin’s vocabulary. Yet.
If she could just cheer the gloomy-faced boy up a bit as they waited for a CFS crew to arrive, she was sure all would be well. The Country Fire Service dealt with car accidents all the time so would be used to extracting people from steel structures. The thought made her shiver. Blocking out the disturbing images, Liesel gave Devlin’s pitch-black crew cut a good scrub with her hand. “Not to worry, Dev, it could be worse. You could be stuck in here with a girl!”
She laughed as Devlin screwed up his young face at the idea of being that close to a girl.
“I could think of worse things.”
Liesel shaded her green eyes, squinting hard against the late-afternoon sun to see who was attached to the made-for-late-night-radio voice. Since she’d lost Eric, it took a lot to get her to respond to a man on a primal level—but the rich drawl she’d just heard sent a wave of shivery delight down her spine despite the heat of the day.
Her eyes worked fast to adjust to the glare—quickly turning the silhouetted six-foot-something male into a poster boy for South Australia’s volunteer fire service. A thick shock of sandy blond hair had become a sexy tousled by-product of the red helmet he was putting on the ground as he knelt beside her—a pair of bright blue eyes securely fixed on Devlin. Golden stubble outlined his well-defined face. She normally wasn’t a fan—but on this guy it looked more Rugged Bachelor than Unkempt Slob. Despite herself, her eyes swept down the golden hairs of his toned forearm and spied a ring-free hand. Not everyone wore a ring, but no ring was a pretty good indication …
“How long have you been caged up in here, mate?”
Devlin flicked his long-lashed eyes up to Liesel.
“Miss, it’s been about three hours, hasn’t it?”
Liesel threw her head back and laughed. “Hardly, Devlin—I think it’s closer to fifteen minutes.”
“All right, Dev—is it all right if I call you Dev? Or should I say Dare Devlin?” He paused for Devlin’s grin—a show of acceptance of the new nickname—and continued, “My name’s Jack and we’re going to get you out of here as soon as possible.” He turned, putting a hand on Liesel’s shoulder, lips parting to reveal a crooked smile. Uh-oh … that’s a knee-weakener.
“Is it all right if I call you Miss?” He laughed good-naturedly at her startled expression then stood up, putting a hand under Liesel’s elbow to help her to her feet as he rose.
Crikey. And he’s got manners.
“Miss is great.” She tried to force her lips into a casual smile as she silently raced through a quick-fire series of