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Five Alarm Lust

Canadian Heroes

Elise Whyles

Published 2012

ISBN: 978-1-59578-959-4

Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2012, Elise Whyles. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Liquid Silver Books


This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.


Survivor Gillian Hilliard is finally healing from a nightmare past. Fearing no man will ever find her attractive, she hides behind simple attire and large glasses. When Gillian meets firefighter Jack Payle, she is instantly attracted, and enjoys a wild night of sex with him. But in the cold light of day she’s torn apart by guilt and shame, and retreats to the familiar comfort of her simple, if unfulfilling, life.

After years of chasing the wrong kind of woman, Jack is shocked by the instant attraction he feels for the mousy historian with shadows in her eyes and passion simmering beneath her surface. Jack can’t get past the lust firing his blood or the memories of her response to his touch, for passionate, sexy Gillian is everything he’s ever wanted. Are they strong enough to face down the demons haunting Gillian? Can she trust the man who holds her heart with her darkest secrets and accept his help to overcome the shadows of her past? Or will the darkness destroy them both?


To Natalie Howard—for her patience with the medical questions. To C.C., Jennifer, James B, and Raylee—my Diva friends—for your words of wisdom, your insight, and your critical and honest feedback.

Chapter 1

Gillian needed out of the suffocating confines of the pink dressing room. With trembling fingers, she plucked at the pastel purple skirt of the atrocious bridesmaid dress her mother had insisted she wear. It was her mother’s seventh wedding, for goodness’ sake. The faint sounds of church bells irritated her already stretched nerves, sounding more like a death knell than a joyful celebration. “Mother, stop.” Gilli slapped her mother’s hand away from the thick brown glasses perched on her nose for the tenth time. “I need those.”

“Gillian Rebecca Hilliard, you know you could do with contacts. Why on earth you insist on wearing these ugly old things I will never understand. You’ll never be a model, but must you hide every inch of your face?” Condescension oozed from her mother’s tone.

“I have no desire to put plastic in my eyes,” Gilli snapped, sliding them off her face to allow the hovering stylist to work. “I like my glasses.”

“Of course you do. Why Michael stayed with you as long as he did I will never know.” With a huff, her mother turned to the shadowy blobs behind her. “Do what you can with what you have.”

Pain lashed at Gilli, who swallowed against the rising tide of memories. Absently she rubbed at her right thigh, the faint scar searing with pain. Michael deserved to rot in hell, and she hoped he was suffering every day while in prison. “He didn’t put up with me, Mother. I believe you of all people should remember that, since it was you who drove me to the hospital after one of his episodes.”

“You always were a bit of an oaf…”

“The son of a bitch shoved me through a wall, not to mention down the stairs. I’m not even going to argue with you, Mother. The glasses are mine. I like them. They’re staying.”

“Whatever, do try to hurry Gillian.”

Gilli shook her head and listened to the rapid tapping of her mother’s heels on the hardwood floor. “Only woman I know who wants a huge wedding every time,” she grumbled as the stylist finished pinning her hair up.

“That’s it, Miss Hilliard. As per your request, I left most of it down.” The young woman leaned down, her hand on Gilli’s shoulder. “You’re going to knock ’em dead.”

Gilli offered a short, weak laugh and patted the girl’s hand. “Thanks.” She slipped her glasses on and rose to totter toward the door on the stilettos her mother persisted she wear. As she exited, the door closed behind her with a click. Gilli turned, smacking face first into a tall, hard wall of flesh before her. Heat seared her body at the touch of his hands on the bare flesh of her back. Putting a couple of inches between them, Gilli glanced upward. Her heart dropped before galloping in place.

Dark brown hair curled over a tanned forehead, green eyes as dark as pine stared at her, bemusement sparkling in them. “Excuse me, miss.”

She shuddered at the slow drawl curling like a lover’s touch into her core. Her labia pulsed beneath the lace of her panties. A flush crept along her throat to heat her cheeks and she ducked her head to hide the wave of color washing over her face. She cleared her throat. “No, pardon me. Entirely my fault.”

Scurrying down the hall, she gasped at the sensitivity in her breasts. Heavy, full, the nipples throbbed beneath the layers of satin and lace. Desperate to cool her blood, she darted past a couple of women and into the ladies room. The thin metal door offered minimal protection as she locked herself into a stall. A thud filled the silence as she let her forehead drop, leaned against the icy metal, and inhaled.

Gods above, Zeus in the flesh right before me. What I wouldn’t give to have him … but he’s not going… Arousal scorched along her veins, pooling between her legs and soaking her underwear. Like venom, her ex’s sneering tone filled her mind. You couldn’t turn a light bulb on, Gillian. You’re sexless. You should get a boob job. Can’t count…

The soft clunk

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