Chapter Three
With her heart hammering and conflict raging, Phoebe had watched Donovan march from the room. He reeked of danger, and oozed a magnetic sensuality that sent the adrenalin pumping through her veins. Every time she looked into his intense brown eyes, she imagined him holding her down and whispering in her ear as he mercilessly ravaged her.
He was also scary as hell.
Especially when he’d ordered her not to call the police—or anyone else for that matter.
Who was he?
A man on the run from the law, or an FBI agent?
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
A part of her wished she’d kept driving and called 911 when she was back on the main road, but another part was glad she jumped from her car and helped him. The truth was, she hadn’t felt so alive in a very long time. But he suddenly burst through the door, startling her and snatching her from her heavy thinking.
“Why did you do that?” she demanded trying to catch her breath. “You scared me half to death.”
“My apologies,” he said hastily. “Is the driveway leading into the underground parking garage the only way out of here?”
“No, there’s a delivery entrance.”
“Okay, good. They’re out front. As soon as their back-up arrives they’ll be charging in here, and it won’t be pretty for either of us.”
“You mean they’re cops?”
“No, Phoebe, back-up is just a phrase.”
“Oh,” she muttered sheepishly. “But how will they know which unit I’m in?”
“From your license plates. Trust me, they know your name and which unit is yours. Pack a few things—and I mean now! We have to get out of here!”
The look in his eye sent her running into her closet. Grabbing a backpack she hastily jammed it with enough for a few days, then realized too late there was no room left for shoes. Snatching a garbage bag from the cabinet under the bathroom sink, she threw in what she thought she might need, then threw in a bunch of toiletries.
“Phoebe” Donovan’s wide shoulders and tall muscled body filled the door frame. “We have to go,” he ordered gruffly. “They’re crossing the street. They’ll be here any minute.”
“I’m ready. My stuff is in the backpack over there. Shit, my mad money!” she exclaimed, dropping the plastic bag and darting back into her bedroom.
“You don’t have to worry about money!” he yelled after her.
“Maybe you don’t, but I do,” she shouted back, snatching up the envelope from the nightstand drawer.
But he had already grabbed both the backpack and plastic bag, and was heading into the hall.
“Donovan, turn left, there’s a stairwell,” she called as she raced out after him. Though her fingers were shaking she managed to lock the deadbolt, then ran after him, catching up as he pushed open the heavy metal door leading to the stairs. But as she followed him through she heard the elevator ding. Spinning around, she dared to peek through the tiny glass window.
And caught her breath.
Several heavy set, scowling men were looking up and down the passageway.
Terrified, she ducked back and trotted down the stairs as fast as she could to join Donovan already at the bottom.
“Be careful not to squeal the tires,” he ordered as they raced to her car. “Drive normally.”
Asking herself how she could possibly do anything normally, she climbed behind the wheel, backed up, then rolled towards the delivery entrance. As the steel gate slid up, she drove out and turned down the alley.
“This will take us to the end of the block and I can turn left away from the complex,” she said hastily. “Where are we going?”
“Take Route 9. About ten minutes down take the Pullham Road exit, then—”
“That’s going into the city center.”
“Just listen! There’s a cream office building halfway down the block. Pull into the parking garage and stop at the valet station.”
“Will anyone—?”
“Phoebe, stop asking so many questions and just follow my directions.”
“Okay, okay, but what should I do about work?”
“You’ll call in sick.”
“How long do you think—?“
“That depends,” he replied, cutting her off.
“Uh…is Donovan your real name?”
“Yes, Phoebe, it’s my real name,” he replied, frowning across at her.
“You can’t blame me for wanting to know stuff! I’m completely freaked out right now. I feel as if I’m kidnapping myself.”
“Are you here against your will?”
“Kind of. I mean, you didn’t give me much of a choice.”
“You always have a choice. Drop me off if you want. Go to the police. Is that what you want to do?”
“I can’t exactly go home! And you said those thugs will come after me.”
“They will, but if you believe the police can protect you, then—“
“What are you doing?” she demanded, raising her voice. “Why are you saying all these things?”
“Phoebe, I’ll only tell you this once,” he said tersely, glaring at her. “Don’t yell at me again.”
“Sorry,” she muttered, feeling like a scolded child.
“I’m simply making a point,” he continued. “You’re here because you want to be. Danger excites you, and don’t try to deny it. You’re an adrenalin junkie.”
“You don’t know anything about me!” ”
“But I do. As I just said, you’re an adrenalin junkie.”
“And you know that how?”
“You don’t work in maternity or pediatrics, or even the emergency room. You chose the trauma center, the place that handles the most serious conditions that come in. When you saw those brutes attacking me you stopped. You could have continued on and called 911 when you got a signal. But not only did you pull up, you left the safety of your car and ran through a downpour on a dark street to help me. Then you invited me, a total stranger, into your home.”
Listening to him, a chill rippled through her body.
Everything he said was true.
“Phoebe, I’m not forcing you to do anything and you can walk away any time you want. There’s the exit. You’ll see the building as soon as you reach the bottom of the ramp.”
A hot flush burned across her face.
She wanted to yell at him, but everything he’d said was true.
She wanted to stop the first chance she got and order him to get out.
But she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.