The Firefighter and the Virgin Princess (15 page)

This is what she knew would happen the
moment she entangled her life with someone else and let the outside
world in. Now he'd made her damn-well care about him. And he'd
leave her behind.

She must have been mad to get involved with
a fucking firefighter in New York City. What was she thinking?

This wasn't her world. She couldn't—

There was Mike! A tall series of blobs
melded together into his form as he saw her and hurried over. "He's
okay, Lily. He's gonna be okay."

A wheezing gasp sputtered
out of her, all the anguish she'd held in forced out on a tidal
wave of anguish. "Okay?
Okay?
" She thumped him in the arm.
"I thought he was dead. When I got the message that he was here and
was hurt...I thought. Oh, god, I hate him. I hate him for making me
feel like this. What the hell...what the hell happened?"

Mike looked askance. "Er. He was fighting an
interior fire and the roof came down. Joe and his partner were
trapped."

"Oh, my god!" She covered her face with both
hands. "Oh, my god!"

He put his hands on her shoulders. "But it's
okay, Lily. Joe managed to drag his partner out of there. Both a
bit knocked up, but they're still breathing. More roof fell as they
came out so he got a little concussion, but hey, you know he's got
a hard, thick head and nothin' much inside there to damage."

Her knees began to crumple, so she let him
give her a hug to keep her standing.

"And my little brother's a hero. But don't
call him that, unless you want to annoy him."

Slowly she was getting her breath back.

"I didn't mean to get you too worried," he
added. "I found your number in his phone and thought you maybe
oughta know he was in hospital. He would never ask me to let you
know, but I think secretly he'd want you here." He passed her a
tissue, and Lily blew her nose hard. "They just admitted him
overnight to keep him under observation. But he's fine. Already
complaining."

For a second she rested her head on Mike's
shoulder, recovering. Then she stood upright, swallowed and put her
chin up. "Where is he? Can I see him?"

"Sure. What's on your face?"

"Make up. I just came off stage."

"Ah."

"Do I look like an Oompa Loompa, Mike?" She
wiped at her face with the tissue.

He laughed. "Only a very pretty one. Somehow
I don't think he'll mind. Come on. I'll take you up."

* * * *

Joe winced when he saw her. Damn. He didn't
want her seeing him like this, all bandaged up with a scratched
face. He glared at Mike, but he couldn't keep it up for too long as
it made his head ache under the bandages. Felt like an oak tree had
fallen on his head.

"I'll leave you two lovebirds alone," he
brother said, slipping out again and closing the door.

Lily came to the side of the bed, her lips
pressed together but wobbling, her face a mess of dripping make-up.
Before she could speak he said, "What the hell happened to you,
Princess?"

She scowled. "I just raced in a cab from the
theater to see you, didn't I?"

He smiled and grabbed her hand.

"And I'm supposed to say that to you," she
added with a sniff. "What the hell happened?"

"Just work. How was your day, honey?"

Aha, that teased a bit of a smile out of her
reluctant lips. "I thought you were dead, Joe."

"Me? Nah! I'm still here, see?"

She licked her lips.

"Come sit here." He patted the bed beside
him. "I need you."

"I don't know—"

"It's just a few scratches. I've gotten
worse playing basketball with the guys at work."

After a hesitating glance at the door, she
hitched up onto the bed and he put his arm around her as she
nestled against him, hiding her face in his shoulder.

"I'm glad you're here," he said, feeling it
with every bone and fiber in his body.

"They're keeping you in tonight."

"Yep. I told them I'm fine, but they
insisted. I just wanna go out for a beer and some pizza. And fuck
you, nice and slow."

She laughed softly. "Typical." There was a
pause. "Tomorrow you can come home with me. I'll look after
you."

For a moment he thought his hearing must be
screwed up. "Home with you?"

"While you're recovering at least." She
raised her head and looked at him through those long, thick theater
lashes. "And no argument. Someone's got to look after you, since
you're making such a shit job of it yourself. As you once said to
me."

"But I'll get in your way. You have to
dance, sweetheart."

"It's not the only thing I have to do now,
is it?"

Joe didn't know what to say. Maybe that was
her plan to shut him up, he mused.

"I'm glad you're okay," she whispered,
placing a gentle kiss on his bruised lips. "I was terrified when I
got Mike's message."

"Don't worry about me, Lily. I'm tough."

She rolled her eyes. "I know."

He hugged her a little tighter. "Don't worry
about us. We'll make it through. We're gonna be fine."

She pressed her lips to his cheek. "I love
you, Joe Rossini."

Good thing he wasn't hooked up to any of
those heartbeat machines, he thought, or he might have broken the
damn thing. Suddenly his head didn't hurt anymore. "I'm the
luckiest guy in New York tonight," he whispered. And he wasn't just
talking about his escape from the fire. "Now, if you could just
climb up here and get under the covers—"

"Get your mind out of the gutter,
Lieutenant."

"What? I can't have a lil' something to tide
me over?"

She chuckled. "You're impossible."

Just then the door opened and a nurse looked
in. Lily immediately scrambled off the bed and pretended to be
straightening the cover.

"Mr. Rossini? Your friend— the other fireman
they brought in— wants to come and see you. Feel up to it?"

Lily gave him a quick peck on the check.
"I'll see you tomorrow."

* * * *

She didn't want to meet the man he'd saved
that night. It was too emotional for her, and she was still taking
baby steps into the real world.

Right now she wanted to go home and clean
up.

As Lily walked out through the hospital
doors, fat, glistening flakes of snow were just falling. She turned
her face up to them and stuck out her tongue.

It was years since she's done that—felt a
snow flake land on her tongue and melt.

But the snow was beautiful tonight in the
city.

Real life was beautiful.

Chapter Eleven

As promised, she picked him up from the
hospital in a cab the next morning, once the doctor gave Joe the
"all clear". When they got close to her apartment she wanted to
walk, because there were a few things she needed to explain before
they got there.

"What's up, Princess?" he wanted to know as
they strolled arm in arm along the snow- plowed sidewalk.

She took a deep breath. "I don't know how
long I have left to dance."

He turned his head to look at her, his
expression concerned but his lips silent, letting her get it
out.

"It's this...hip thing. I've worn away
cartilage. Sometimes it causes me a great deal of pain and
stiffness, but I keep dancing." Lily dug her free hand into her
coat pocket. "It's the only thing I know how to do."

He nodded slowly.

"Of course, I always knew it wouldn't last
forever. Dancers have a shelf life. But I could put it out of my
mind. Like death. Everyone knows it will come but they don't know
when, so they forget about it. They can't think about death every
day or else they wouldn't be able to carry on. That was how it was
for me and dancing."

Still his was quiet, patiently waiting.

"When the doctor explained about my hip, it
was as if, suddenly, he predicted a shortened end to my life. I
could see the end coming, and I couldn't ignore it anymore. The
truth was there in front of me in big, flashing letters." Now that
she'd begun her words flowed easier, tumbling out faster. "I was
terrified because I had nothing else. How could I face it? Suddenly
I was forced to see how alone I was— would be —once I couldn't
perform anymore. At twenty-two I was facing an abyss that felt as
final as death, and there was nothing I could do but keep on
dancing. Yet every time I danced I was shortening that life I had
left."

He stopped walking, put his hands on her
waist. "And then I came along. This big jerk."

"Yes."

"And I got in your way."

"Yes."

Gently he kissed her forehead and she leaned
closer, her hands on his shoulders. "You know now that your life
isn't over, right? It's only just beginning, sweetheart."

She swallowed hard. "Is it?"

"Absolutely, Princess. Count on it."

He sounded so sure, and looking up into his
honest face she couldn't doubt him. Ever.

"We're both starting over," he said, his
lips lowering to kiss hers. "The whole world is ours. This whole
city belongs to you and me. We got a full life to live together and
we'll do it all. Picket fence, kids, dog, holidays at the beach.
All of it."

"You're very sure about this."

"'Course I am. I knew it the first time I
saw you, and I am always right. About everything. You oughta know
that by now."

His bold brattiness made her smile and with
his arms around her she felt ten feet tall. And young and silly.
And desperately in love. "I've been thinking...maybe I could teach
dance. Maybe."

"I know you could."

"And one day...one day...perhaps... I'd like
a baby."

He looked over her head briefly and then
back down at her, his smile turning mischievous and boyish. "Ya
know what? I've kinda been thinking the same thing."

"It would mean making a few changes," she
said somberly. "A child is a big responsibility."

"And you'd have to marry me first, before I
get you knocked up. My ma would want it that way. She's
old-fashioned."

That broke her solemn, pensive mood, and she
let out a pent up breath of anxiety.

"There ain't nothing we can't do together,
Princess," he said firmly.

Laughter rippled out of her. "Although it's
terrible grammar, Lieutenant, I rather like the sound of that."

* * * *

As they entered her building, he went quiet
again. She supposed the concierge who greeted her and handed her
some mail— not to mention the coolly elegant marble foyer and the
large, glittering chandelier — might be a surprise.

They got into the elevator, and she pressed
the code for her floor. Joe was looking at her oddly. "This
roommate of yours won't mind me staying here with you for a
while?"

"Nope."

"Pretty fancy building. I kinda pictured
something... smaller."

She merely smiled.

The doors slid open, and they stepped out
into her private foyer.

Joe took two steps and stopped. "Where the
hell are we?"

"My apartment." Lily steered him through
into the sunken living room with a wall of windows overlooking
Central Park. "I suppose I can tell you now, if you haven't
guessed, that there is no roommate." She sighed. "I live here all
alone."

His mouth was wide open and for once no
sounds came out.

"This place belonged to my parents," she
explained sheepishly, "for when they had to be in New York. After
they died, my grandmother kept it. She was going to sell it, but
when I started training here she decided to let me live in it. Now,
of course, it's mine, like everything else of hers."

Joe swung around. "You lived in this
apartment since you were eleven?"

She nodded, hands in her pockets.

"All alone?" he added.

Lily shrugged. "Just me."

He stared at her for a long moment and then
crossed the hardwood floor to fold her in his arms. "You were a
little girl all alone in this place. Do you know how sad that is,
Lily?"

She hadn't thought of it as sad, but she
supposed it was. In a way. "I had the concierge. He's very nice,
and he's been here as long as I have."

He put his hands around her face and lifted
it for a kiss. "This explains a lot, Princess. Why didn't you tell
me?"

Lily put her arms around him. "I was used to
keeping myself to myself. I thought if I brought you here you'd
have some weird impression of me and it would scare you off."

He laughed. "Like I didn't have a pretty
weird impression of you already."

"I made up the roommate as an excuse, of
course, not to bring you here."

"So you're rich, huh? No wonder you didn't
want my sorry ass around."

She gave him a squeeze. "I love your hot
ass. And it's not going anywhere."

"Is that so, Princess?"

"Yes it is, Lieutenant." Lily rose up on
tip-toe to nibble his chin, her hands already sliding carefully
under his shirt. "Now...let me give you a tour of my place..."

* * * *

Funny how things like that can happen on a
crowded New York City street. Two absolute strangers from different
worlds, colliding somehow and then getting stuck together.

He'd never thought of the city as romantic
before.

But that was before the firefighter and
regular Joe met his virgin princess.

Hey, fairy tales did happen in the city. He
had proof.

ABOUT THE
AUTHOR

Jemma Harte is the hard-working
mother of two young boys, two guinea-pigs and a one-eyed rescue cat
named "Blinkers". Between waitressing jobs, laundry loads and car
pool, she started writing down some of the stories that float
around inside her head. Suddenly she'd found a good way to stay
semi-sane without turning to a box of wine.