Mallory caught her looking and observed calmly, “You’re flirting with heat exhaustion.”

“I’m not the one wearing a coat.” Jac wasn’t breathing heavily and could still talk while running, which was proof enough that her cardiovascular state was pretty damn good. She tried not to look self-satisfied. “I think you’re the one who needs to worry about the heat.”

“You’re running pretty close to a five-minute mile, which might be impressive on a high school track, but it’s just plain stupid out here in the mountains,” Mallory said, more worried than aggravated. She didn’t need another rookie down, and Jac was setting a blazing pace over unpredictable ground. The trail was scarcely a trail, more like a barely trodden path through densely packed trees and heavy undergrowth. No point training on groomed trails—there wouldn’t be any of those where the jump plane dropped them.

Jac was a smart runner, clearly gauging the terrain ahead in time to cut around fallen trees and other obstacles, skirting frozen patches of runoff in the shadow of boulders, at home in the mountains the way many rookies weren’t. Experienced firefighters didn’t always acclimate to mountain terrain. City fires held their own inherent dangers—burning buildings that collapsed in on themselves, trapping firefighters between floors, abandoned warehouses and garages filled with flammable chemicals, unstable rooftops that gave way underfoot. But the mountains waged war not with man-made artillery, but nature’s most fundamental weapon—the earth itself. Valleys acted like funnels, propelling flames on downdrafts to flank firefighters and cut them off from their escape routes. Mountain ridges hid advancing fire fronts until a blowup surged over a crest, catching a team far from its safety zone. Timber went up like tinder, fire soaring from treetop to treetop, a juggernaut of annihilation. Jac needed to be more than fast, she needed to be vigilant, and caution did not seem to be in her vocabulary.

Mallory dropped back a step to watch her. The pack on Jac’s back shifted a few inches from side to side with every long stride. Rookie mistake, running with that much weight and no coat to absorb the stress. Even so, she seemed comfortable, her breathing even, her stride regular. She was in excellent physical condition. Her shoulders were broad and muscled, tapering to a narrow waist and hips that weren’t much wider. Even in her heavy cargo pants, her ass was tight, her thighs muscular and hard-looking. She had a great body. Heavy tension coiled between Mallory’s legs.

Shock raced through her, nearly throwing her off stride. She didn’t look at women that way. Not even when she was interested in a date, and never in the field, never a fellow firefighter. She dated women who were easy to talk to, women whose interests were as far away from what she did every day as possible—teachers or businesswomen or waitresses. She didn’t date firefighters or forest rangers or cops or emergency medical personnel. She didn’t choose dates for their looks and didn’t care if they slept with her or not, as long as they were easygoing, quick to laugh, calm and steady. Jac was nothing like that. Jac was as tantalizing and dangerous as fire.

Mallory dropped back farther, needing space where there shouldn’t have been any connection at all.

Jac glanced back over her shoulder. “Want to stop and unload that jacket?”

“Just keep running, Russo, and watch where you’re going,” Mallory said.

Jac flashed her a cocky grin, jumped over a nest of fallen logs, and raced on, leaving a trail of spice and musk. Mallory kept her focus on the trail, running in Jac’s wake, Jac’s scent sliding over her skin.

*

Twenty-four minutes later, the end of the trail was in sight, and Jac slowed. She was ahead of Mallory, but she hadn’t outpaced her and didn’t want it to look as if she had when she reached the yard. Mallory could have overtaken her easily, but she’d never tried. Mallory ran right beside her, right where she’d been the entire run, still breathing easy, still cool and unruffled. Nothing to prove. Mallory knew how good she was. Another thing Jac liked about her, her self-assuredness. She wasn’t arrogant, didn’t need to throw her authority around. Confidence was sexy on a woman. But there was something, wasn’t there? Something that drove her to drive herself—the woman slept with her plane after all. And whatever was driving her probably put that haunted look in her eyes when she didn’t think anyone was looking. Jac had been looking, she just didn’t know how to ask.

Now sure wasn’t the time.

The last few miles had passed in total silence. All she’d been able to hear had been Mallory’s deep rhythmic breathing, the sigh of the wind, and the call of birds she never saw. She’d run in and out of patches of sunlight that heated her skin, making the shadows and cool breezes under the heavy canopy all the more welcome. She loved running through the woods, cloistered in semidarkness, enveloped by the sweet allure of honeysuckle. The flare of artillery against the night sky, the bright bursts of camera flashes on a raised podium, the crush of crowds at a political rally all disappeared. She could take a deep breath. Out here she could relax her vigilance, she could be free.

“Good run,” Jac called. She hadn’t looked at her watch, she didn’t need to. Her time was good, better than it would’ve been that morning. Running with Mallory inspired her. Her muscles felt looser, her blood richer, her mind clearer. “You’re a great partner.”

“What?” Mallory said, sounding shocked.

“Running. You’re great to run with. You bring out my best.”

Mallory laughed, an edge of disbelief or maybe denial sharpening her tone. “Do you always say the first thing that comes into your mind?”

“You have no idea how not true that is.” Jac stopped at the end of the trail, raised her leg behind her, and caught her foot, stretching her quads. She repeated the motion on the other leg.

Mallory mirrored her stretches. “What do you mean?”

“Remember what I told you about reporters? I learned pretty young to think twice before I spoke. The older I got, the longer I thought.”

“That sounds like a drag.”

Jac nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

“Well then,” Mallory said, her voice oddly gentle, “I’m glad you seem to have forgotten to do that recently.”

“Me too.” Jac had enough sense not to say the change in her normal hypervigilance was entirely due to Mallory. Being around Mallory made her want to be real—whatever that was for her anymore.

“How are your shoulders?” Mallory asked, sauntering out into the yard.

Following, Jac grinned. Nothing got past Mallory. “Little bit sore.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll bet.” Mallory narrowed her eyes at her. “Let’s head for the showers, and I’ll take a look at them.”

“So what’s the verdict?” Jac kept her voice low. The other four rookies lingered outside the standby shack, pretending they weren’t watching, but casting surreptitious glances in their direction, no doubt hoping to psych out her fate. She’d rather tell them the outcome herself, especially if it was going to be bad.

“Your time is good, but you don’t need me to tell you that,” Mallory said.

“But it’s not just about the time, is it?”

“You already know it isn’t.”

“But this morning, all that mattered was that we finished the course.”

“A lot can change in a few hours,” Mallory murmured.

“Yeah, I know.” Jac waved to the guys on her way into the building and headed for the showers. A lot had already changed between this morning and now, and all of it had to do with Mallory James.

*

Mallory followed Jac inside the shack, emptied her pack and stored her gear, and headed for the locker room to shower and change. She stumbled to a halt just inside the door, treated to the vision of Jac’s naked back and her firm butt in tight black briefs. She hadn’t considered they would be showering together, and if she had, she would’ve found some excuse to stop in her office first. She wasn’t shy about showering with other women. Seeing women naked wasn’t sexual for her, at least not when the goal was to wash away sweat and smoke in the aftermath of a long, hard shift. But then she hadn’t anticipated the effect of Jac being practically naked just a few feet away, and she should have. She’d been nearly mesmerized just watching her run, completely clothed. The naked version was bound to be just as captivating. She just hadn’t realized how much better.

Her throat was tight, and her heart pounded so hard she was certain her T-shirt was vibrating. To make matters worse, Jac turned around and caught her staring. Jac’s eyebrows rose and her mouth lifted in an irritatingly knowing smile. And damn it, if she didn’t just stand there, relaxed and naked and so damn sexy.

“Something wrong?” Jac murmured.

“No,” Mallory said, relieved she sounded normal. At least, she thought she did. Her ears were ringing, so it was hard to tell. “I want to take a look at your shoulders. If you’re blistered, you’re not going to be comfortable in the safety harness, and you’re not going to jump until you are.”

“We’re going to jump soon?” Jac’s face brightened, her expression so innocently joyful, Mallory’s heart actually gave a little tug. She wouldn’t have believed that was possible.

“Like I said, it depends on your shoulders.”

Jac seemed completely unperturbed by her nearly nude state and leaned back against the lockers, resting her hands on her hips. Her torso was even better from the front than the back. Her breasts were small and round and tipped with pale chocolate nipples, neat and very hard.

“If you’re thinking about whether or not I can jump, does that mean I’m still in?”

“As far as everyone else is concerned, you’re in.” Mallory hoped she wasn’t making a mistake, seeing as her judgment was warped by the strange fog that enveloped her brain every time Jac was nearby. Jac was a puzzle she wanted to unravel, an unmarked door that invited opening, a whisper of secrets demanding to be unveiled.