Night Smoke by Nora Roberts

beneath his, moving him to gentle the kiss. To soothe.
    “Better?” he murmured, and stroked her hair.
    “I’m all right,” she said again, willing herself to believe it. “There should be a first-aid kit in the storeroom. You need to put something on your hands.”
    “It’s no big deal….” he began, but she shoved away from him and rose.
    “I have to do something. Damn it, I have to do something.”
    She dashed off. Baffled by her, Ry stood and moved to relock the door. He needed to go up again and ventilate the office, but he wanted her out of the way before he made a preliminary investigation. He tugged off his tie, loosened his collar.
    “There’s some salve in here.” Steadier now, Natalie came back in with a small first-aid kit.
    “Fine.” Deciding tending to him would do her some good, he sat back and let her play nurse. He had to admit the cool balm and her gentle fingers didn’t do him any harm, either.
    “You’re lucky it isn’t worse. It was insane, just walking into that room.”
    He cocked a brow. “You’re welcome.”
    She looked up at him then. His face was smeared from the smoke, his eyes were reddened from it. “I am grateful,” she said quietly. “Very grateful. But it was just things, Ry. Just things.” She looked away again, busying herself replacing the tube of salve. “I guess I owe you a new suit.”
    “I hate suits.” He shifted uncomfortably when he heard her quick, unsteady sob. “Don’t cry again. If you really want to thank me, don’t cry.”
    “All right.” She sniffed inelegantly and rubbed her hands over her face. “I was so scared.”
    “It’s over.” He gave her hand an awkward pat. “Will you be all right for a minute? I want to go up and open the window. The smoke needs a way to escape.”
    “I’ll come—”
    “No, you won’t. Sit here.” He rose again, put a firm hand on her shoulder. “Please stay here.”
    He turned and left her. Natalie used the time he was gone to compose herself. And to think. When he came back down, she was sitting with her hands folded in her lap.
    “It was the same as the warehouse, wasn’t it?” She lifted her gaze to his. “The way it was set. We can’t pretend it was a coincidence.”
    “Yes,” he said. “It was the same. And no, we can’t. We’ll talk about this later. I’ll drive you home.”
    “I’m—”
    The words slid back down her throat when he dragged her roughly to her feet. “If you tell me onemore time that you’re all right, I’m going to punch you. You’re sick, you’re scared, and you sucked in smoke. Now this is the way we’re going to work this. I’m driving you home. We’ll report this on the phone in that snazzy car of yours. You’re going to go to bed, and tomorrow you’re going to see a doctor. Once you check out, we’ll go from there.”
    “Stop yelling at me.”
    “I wouldn’t have to yell if you’d listen.” He grabbed her coat. “Put this on.”
    “This is my property. I have a right to be here.”
    “Well, I’m taking you out.” He shoved her arm into the sleeve of her coat. “If you don’t like it, call your fancy lawyers and sue me.”
    “There’s no reason for you to take this attitude.”
    He started to swear, stopped himself. As a precaution, he took one slow breath. “Natalie, I’m tired.” His voice was quiet now, nearly reasonable. “I’ve got a job to do here, and I can’t do it if you’re in my way. So cooperate. Please.”
    He was right, she knew he was right. She turned away, picked up her purse. “Keep my car. I’ll arrange to have it picked up tomorrow.”
    “I appreciate it.”
    She gave him the car keys and the keys to the shop. “I’ll be here tomorrow, Ry.”
    “I figured you would.” He lifted a hand and rubbed his knuckles along her jawline. “Hey—try not to worry. I’m the best.”
    She nearly smiled. “So I’ve been told.”
    *  *  *
    It was nearly eight the following morning when the cab dropped Natalie off