“Thanks, Mom.”

They left and he had just closed his eyes for a few minutes when another knock came at his door. His captain, Todd, stepped into the room.

“How’re you feeling, Gabe?”

“Good, Captain.”

He moved to sit up straighter on the bed and Todd shook his head. “You’re fine just like that. I know your skull must hurt like hell.” He nodded back to the doorway. “Are you ready to see Ms. Harris and her daughter, Summer?”

No, he thought, he’d be better off never seeing those eyes again.

He’d thought about Megan and her daughter one too many times for comfort. Not just because he was reviewing the rescue, trying to look for what he could have done differently, to have gotten them out faster and more safely—but because he hadn’t been able to forget her strength, how hard she’d fought to stay conscious, and what a fighter she’d been every single second of the harrowing journey from her burning apartment.

Still, he understood that fire victims often felt compelled to say thank you to the men who had saved them. Especially in a case like this, where they’d just barely held death at bay.

“Sure.” He began to nod, but a sharp shooting pain stopped him halfway into the movement.

Catching his grimace, Todd said, “I’ll ask Megan and her daughter to come back later.”

Her name fit her, Gabe had found himself thinking one too many times. Megan was pretty and strong all at the same time. It would be better to think of her as Ms. Harris. Although, he had to wonder, was there a husband? And if so, where had he been during the fire and why wasn’t he here with them now?

“No,” he said, “it’ll be better if I see them now.”

She’d say thank you, he’d tell her he was happy to see her and her daughter doing so well, and that would be that. No more being haunted by her eyes, by the surprising strength she’d shown him as she’d crawled on the floor of her apartment and down the stairs.

A couple of minutes later, Todd walked back in with the mother and daughter. Ignoring the pain in his head, Gabe sat up higher and forced a smile on his face.

And then, his eyes locked with Megan’s and his smile froze in place.

My God, he found himself thinking before he could shove the thought away, she’s beautiful.

The last time he’d seen her face it had been through a thick haze of dark smoke and the knowledge that one wrong move meant their lives were over. Her eyes were just as big and pretty, her limbs looked as lean and strong as they had when he’d been helping to move her along the floor, but now he could see the softness in her, the sweet curves of her br**sts and hips in her T-shirt and jeans. He couldn’t stop staring at the startling green of her eyes, the silky dark hair falling across her shoulders, and the way her pretty young daughter was a carbon copy of her, the only difference their hair color, one dark, one light.

She seemed just as stunned as he and for a long moment, the two of them just stared at each other in silence until her daughter ran over to him and threw her arms around him.

“Thank you for saving me and Mommy.”

The little girl’s arms were just as strong as her mother’s. “You’re welcome, Summer. How old are you?”

“I turn seven on Saturday.”

She beamed at him and right then and there he lost a little piece of his heart to the pretty little girl with the two missing front teeth.

“Happy birthday.” He’d have to remember to have the station send her a gift.

Movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Megan was moving closer to him and, yet again, once he looked up at her, he couldn’t seem to pull his gaze away. Without realizing what he was doing, he scanned her left hand for a wedding band and found it bare.

“Mr. Sullivan, I can’t even begin to tell you how much what you did means to me.”

He almost told her to call him Gabe, but he knew his name would sound way too good coming from her full lips. Already his brain was wanting to spin off into a fantasy of what it would sound like to hear her say his name in distinctly different circumstances, with one less child and fire captain in the room...and a hell of a lot less clothes.

As it was, he couldn’t take his eyes off her gorgeous mouth, which was wobbling slightly. She clamped her lips tightly together as she quickly brushed her fingertips over her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a small laugh that held no actual laughter in it. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.”

“She keeps doing that,” Summer told him in a stage whisper as her mother worked to win the battle with her tears.

He whispered back, “It’s perfectly normal.”

“We needed to come say thank you.” Megan’s eyes moved over his bandages before she added, “And to make sure you were okay.”

His voice was much gruffer than usual. “I’m okay.”

“I’m so glad.”

“How are both of you? You inhaled a lot of smoke.”

She gave him a small smile that did crazy things to his guts. “We’re both fine.” She put her hand to her throat. “The doctor said I’ll only sound like a frog for a few more days.”

“You’ve got to hear her ribbit,” Summer told him. “She sounds exactly like the frog we have in my class at school. Do it for him, Mommy.”

This time Megan’s soft laugh was closer to a real one. “I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear me ribbit, Summer.”

The power of her smile, the way her eyes lit up and a sweet dimple appeared in her left cheek, rocked all the way through him. He could get drunk on her smiles—was already feeling like he’d been knocked off center by just one.

If Megan were someone he’d met at a coffee shop or bar, if she were one of his siblings’ friends—if she were anyone but someone he’d rescued from a fire—he would have not only been working on ways to get her to stay longer, but also to charm her phone number and a date out of her.

But the only reason she was looking at him with her heart in her eyes was because he’d saved her and her daughter’s lives. He knew better than to let himself fall for her and her pretty little girl.

He didn’t have to force his expression to harden at the memories of what an idiot he’d been in the past when he’d ignored professional boundaries and—stupidly—got involved with a fire victim.

“Of course he wants to hear it,” the little girl said, and then, when he remained silent, turned to him and said, “Don’t you?”