Santa Wore Leathers: The sexiest firefighter Christmas romance of the year!

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He slipped his hands into the back pockets of his black jeans and stepped backwards. “A reporter. Yeah, I’d forgotten.” He snorted a burst of laughter. “Hell, with my lips fused to yours earlier, I damn near forgot my name. I never lose control with a woman like that.” His gaze shifted to the street for a few seconds, and he murmured something she couldn’t distinguish. His posture and the set of his broad shoulders spoke of sadness. Oh, girl, get a grip. Just like all men, he’s a heartache with a capital H.

“Good night, Wolf.”

His dark eyes with their predatory gaze landed on her, and for an instant, they almost caressed her before emotion shuttered them. “I’m attracted to you. I won’t deny it.” He huffed an audible sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “I also don’t like or trust reporters. Dammit, why did you have to be one?” He executed a half-hearted salute and walked away. “Good night, reporter lady.”

A dose of melancholy misted her eyes and she willed the tears away. Why would she care if the man never approached her again? Or kissed her? She turned and leaned her forehead against the front door, sighing. Something about the feelings he stirred in her scared her. The man certainly knew how to hijack a kiss. For a minute he had her femininity flying high—and she feared the crash landing the ride would surely bring.

****

Salt spray moistened Wolf’s face as the rubber inflatable craft sped along the causeway. He welcomed the familiar exhilaration, the adrenaline rush. Dressed in scuba gear, his gaze swept over his highly trained four-man Marine Rescue Unit as they expertly prepared for their rescue attempt. When the call came into the station from a stranded boat near Memorial Causeway Bridge, his team was underway in less than five minutes.

His diving partner, Barclay, shouted over the noise of the speeding engine, “Dispatch said the guy fell overboard?”