“What did you say?” She stood taller, throwing her shoulders back in defiance. The bluest eyes he’d ever seen glared at him. They narrowed slightly as she continued to stare him down. “I was fine. I knew how to get out.” She had short, ultra-blonde hair, left a little longer at the front so it hung over her eyes. And even from this angle, he could see her slim hips and long legs, encased in a pair of worn blue jeans. Tattoos ran up both her bare arms and disappeared into the sleeves of her little white shirt. An eyebrow piercing and so many studs in her ears he couldn’t count them all reflected the light of the flames.
“You weren’t fine. You were about to be barbecued,” he said. But the heat was already gone from his words. He couldn’t seem to stay mad at her as she stood glaring at him with such cool determination.
“I didn’t need you to come in and rescue me. I’m not some damsel in distress,” she said, arching an eyebrow in disdain. Underneath all the soot and ash smeared across her face, he could see high cheekbones and a dainty nose. The face of an angel. With the temper of a viper, it seemed.