Page 15 of Donovan Blake: Adrenalin

“Satisfied?” she demanded, scowling at him.

“I told you to wait downstairs.”

“Yeah, well, but I don’t remember swearing to obey your every command!”

Though he admired her moxie, she’d completely disregarded his wishes and he couldn’t let it slide. Wordlessly striding up to her, he gripped her arm, marched her to the bed and picked up her phone.

“What’s the code? And Phoebe, don’t make me ask a second time!”

“What are you hoping to find? Texts and emails between me and some mysterious person talking about you?“

Her rude retort was the last straw. Dropping on the edge of the mattress, he jerked her over his knee and landed a volley of hard smacks across her backside.

“What are you doing?” she squealed as she squirmed. “Let me up.”

“I made it clear I’m in charge,” he exclaimed, continuing to spank her. “You were told to wait in the kitchen, yet here you are.”

“Ow, that hurts, stop, I’m sorry!’“

“Too late, you need this,” he scolded, moving his flattened palm from side to side. “Why must you continually push the envelope?”

“Because I’m an adrenalin junkie,” she wailed. “Please, Donovan, let me explain!”

“I’m listening,” he said tersely, roughly pulling her up and seating her beside him.

“I did want to help you,” she began breathlessly, “but besides that, running into that downpour and bringing you into my car was exciting, really exciting. It’s also why I took that back street after I left the hospital. Yeah, it’s faster, but it’s scary. So was taking you back to my place. It’s also why I chose to become a trauma nurse. I thought dealing with the unexpected all the time would be thrilling. It was at first, but now I’m tired of being run off my feet for endless hours and seeing people suffer.”

“What does that have to do with ignoring my wishes and coming up here? Why didn’t you just wait in the kitchen as I asked?”

“I knew you’d be mad if I came looking for you and I didn’t know how you’d react. It made my blood pump. Sometimes I just can’t help myself. It’s like an addiction.”

“But art isn’t exactly fraught with danger. I don’t understand the appeal.”

“At first it was learning about the artists. My gosh, some of them…their lives were filled with all kinds of turmoil and scandal. Then my mother started teaching me about techniques and I…uh…”

His pulse ticked up.

“You what?”

“I have talent, and I find it fascinating. That’s why I wanted to work at the great galleries, so I could learn as much as I possibly could.”

He immediately knew she was holding back.

“Tell me everything, or would you prefer I spank it out of you.”

As a red flush crawled across her face, he wasn’t sure if it was the threat, or if she was carrying a deep, dark secret.

“Shit,” she muttered, still averting his gaze. “Sometimes the thrill of the risk doesn’t feel so good. Like…right now.”

“Explain.”

“True art lovers despise people like me. I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Not all art lovers are created equal, and I could never hate someone who saved my life,” he said, softening his tone. “Tell me, Phoebe. I might surprise you.”

“Okay…well…I wanted to…I still want to…try my hand at copying,” she whispered. “Actually, I already have.”

Though he’d expected as much, all his doubts about her came flooding back. Now the freak coincidence was the last straw.

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