Donovan Blake: Adrenalin (SECRET LIVES: BILLIONAIRES Book 1), page 1
Contents
Title Information
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Epilogue
A Word From Maggie
Maggie's Novels
Maggie's Novels
DONOVAN BLAKE
Adrenalin
by
Maggie Carpenter
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Published by: Dark Secrets Press LLC
Cover Design : Fantasiafrogdesigns
Visit the author at:
https://www.Amazon.com/author/maggiecarpenter
www.MaggieCarpenter.com
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CHAPTER ONE
Billionaire businessman Donovan Blake knew he might not survive the night. Being double-crossed and ripped off was one thing. But being blindfolded, hands tied behind his back, shoved into what he assumed was the back of a van, and driven to God knows where was something else entirely. He’d been in plenty of tough situations but nothing compared to this. To make matters worse, a storm was raging and no-one had any idea where he was.
He could hear two men talking. Between the noisy vehicle and the torrential rain it was impossible to hear what was being said, but he was fairly certain they weren’t paying him any attention. If he was going to try to get away this could well be the only chance he’d have. It was slim, but slim was better than none.
Hidden in a wide belt loop at the back of his waist was a tiny blade. Though he never thought he’d have to use it, part of his training regime had been practicing the tricky maneuver. Finding the tiny thread with the tips of his fingers, he lightly tugged. The stitching unraveled, and the loop opened up exposing the blade. It had only one sharp edge, and he was able to safely move it into position and start cutting the rope.
“Make up your fucking mind,” he heard one the thugs yell. “Am I driving the regular route or taking the back street?”
“Take the back street,” his partner yelled back. “Boris is a fucking lunatic. If he really was waiting to hear from this asshole he’ll have people out lookin’ by now. I told you we should’ve let him make that damn call! ”
“Too risky, and yeah. That street’s just up ahead. I’m taking it.”
* * *
As Phoebe Beaumont drove out of the hospital parking lot all she could think about was crawling into bed and sleeping for a week. Becoming a nurse in the trauma center had been a dream come true, but the excitement she’d imagined was far from the grim reality.
She glanced at the clock: 2:17 a.m.
The night had been chaotic.
In addition to the usual mix of casualties there had been two gunshot victims, and a five-car pile up on the interstate had sent a slew of casualties into the ward.
In recent months her passion for the job had waned. More than once she’d almost handed in her notice. The dreamy Dr. Peterson had suggested she try private nursing. He claimed the money was great and there was a shortage of qualified candidates. She’d wanted to tell him she’d be happy to nurse him anytime—but all the girls flirted with him and she wasn’t about to be one of the crowd.
Letting out a weary sigh, she turned onto a back street. Though it was dark and creepy it was a short cut home. It also spiked her adrenalin. The feeling was one she loved. It was akin to a roller coaster ride, or even speeding through a red light. But as the heavy rain hit the windshield she was forced to slow down and squint. Most of the street lights were out, and the road was full of potholes. The last thing she wanted was to find herself stuck in one of them or end up with a flat tire. When she finally reached the sharp curve that would lead her back to the main street, she had to swing wide to avoid a deep groove near the edge.
Suddenly her headlights revealed two men attacking a third.
As she slammed on her brakes, one of the muggers spun around and started running towards her. All she could think to do was blast her horn. To her shock it worked. He froze for a moment, then bolted back to his victim. A second later both thugs disappeared into the dark, and she saw the tail lights of a van speeding away. With her pulse racing she drove towards the man lying on the ground and called 911, only to find there was no service. But to her great relief he was rising to his feet.
“Are you okay?” she yelled, stepping from her car.
“Yeah,” he shouted, staggering towards her.
Not sure just how badly he was injured and wanting him to get in her car safely, she made her way through the downpour to open the passenger door. As he lumbered past her and climbed in, she noticed he had a bloody nose and a gash on his cheek. But she was getting drenched, and raced around the vehicle to get back in.
“I can’t believe you stopped,” he grunted as she settled behind the wheel. “Most people would have called the police and hightailed it out of here.”
“I tried to call 911 and there was no service. But I’m a nurse and I’m trained to deal with emergencies,” she panted as she turned the heat on high. “I’ll take you to the hospital. It’s not far.”
“No hospitals,” he said adamantly. “I just need to clean up and dry off. I don’t suppose you have a towel in here”
“Sorry, no. I’m Phoebe, by the way.”
“Hello, Phoebe. My name’s Donovan. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of,” he said, then letting out a sigh, he flipped down the visor and studied his face.
As his jacket sleeve slipped back exposing a gold Rolex, she wondered if that was why he’d been mugged. Then her eyes moved from the expensive timepiece to his face. Even in the dim light she could see he was romance novel handsome. Chiseled features, amazingly full lips, and his mop of wet, dark hair framed caramel eyes.
“If you don’t want to go to the hospital where should I take you?” she asked, wondering if the bizarre meeting was a quirk of fate.
“That’s a good question. They jumped me while I was getting in my car so it’s probably not a good idea to go back there, and I live on the other side of town. Are there any decent hotels around here?”
“I’ll take you to my place so you can at least clean yourself up,” she offered before she could stop the words spilling from her mouth.
“Are you sure? You don’t know anything about me.”
“I live at Piccadilly Place. It’s a condo complex and there are security cameras outside the building and in the garage.”
“Ah, I see. So if I’m a serial killer I’ll be easily identified,” he quipped with a grin.
Glancing across at him, she felt a flutter in her stomach.
Even with his battered face he was undeniably sexy.
“Uh, yeah, and I’ve been on my feet for hours. If I have to drive more than a few blocks I’m likely to pass out and hit a telephone pole. Then we’ll both end up in the ER.”
“We can’t have that. Thank you, Phoebe. You won’t regret this.”
CHAPTER TWO
A short time later, sitting on a bed in Phoebe’s cozy condo as she patched him up, Donovan could scarcely believe his good fortune. A beautiful angel had saved his life. The headlights from her car suddenly shining on the two goons trying to beat him to a pulp had been a miracle. But he could see just how tired and frazzled she was, and who could blame her? She’d witnessed violence and rescued a stranger in the middle of the night on a dark, rainy back street. What she’d done had been dangerous. Some would call it foolhardy.
“Thank God for you,” he mumbled, thinking about the people behind the attack.
He wasn’t supposed to survive.
Though his head was already spinning with the repercussions of the unexpected attack, he found himself distracted by the gorgeous nurse and her curvaceous body. But it wasn’t just her sexy figure he found captivating. Her green eyes sparkled like colored diamonds, and the fact that she’d stopped and jumped out of her car told him she’d be a handful. A gorgeous handful, but still a handful.
“Done,” she exclaimed, stepping back. “But I have to ask…what were you doing on that street? There’s nothing there, and it often floods.”
“I was taken there in that damn van. I guess those creeps wanted to rob me without being interrupted.”
It had been a lie, but he sure as hell couldn’t tell her the truth. The thugs had been ordered to beat him to death and make it look like a mugging. At least, that’s what they’d told him.
“That’s terrible!” she exclaimed. “I’m calling the police.”
“Phoebe, you can’t do that!”
“But they could—“
“You don’t understand!” he shot back, cutting her off.
“Okay. Then explain it to me.”
“Thanks for your help but I can’t, and you don’t have to worry, I’ll leave early in the morning. But you mustn’t tell anyone I was here.”
“Uh—why not?” she asked with a frown. “In fact, who are you? What’s your last name?”
“Blake. What’s yours?”
“Beaumont.”
“Well, Phoebe Beaumont, there are certain things I’m not at liberty to share with you, and that’s all I can say.”
“Fine, whatever,” she retorted, picking up her supplies and putting them back in their bag. “But that’s just bullshit.”
He took a breath.
She was sublimely close to him.
He could smell the hint of her perfume, then thought it might be her hair. She had it rolled into a bun at the back of her head, and he wanted to see it loose around her shoulders. As she picked up the case and turned to leave, he impulsively grabbed her arm.
“Phoebe! Wait!”
“What?” she asked, darting her eyes back at him. “Are you going to share some deep, dark secret?” He couldn’t suppress a grin. “What’s so funny, Mr. Blake?”
“You’re not used to people refusing to answer your questions,” he replied, locking her eyes. “In fact, I suspect most people find you intimidating.”
“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about, and why are you holding my arm?”
“There’s something I need to do. Stand still.”
Slowly rising to his feet, he reached behind her head and felt for the hairpin. Finding two, he deftly pulled them out and watched her hair tumble free. It was longer than he expected, and not just brown, but a rich auburn color.
“Why did you do that?” she demanded breathlessly, then to his surprise she licked her lips.
He knew how to read expressions and body language.
She was imagining his kiss.
Though he was just as eager to oblige he decided to make her wait.
“You may be a nurse, but you’re also a beautiful woman. Your hair should be like that if you’re not working.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, Phoebe, that’s right!”
She was a spitfire, and though shards of pain pierced his body in various places, he found her incredibly sexy. He wanted to slide the clothes off her body, gaze at her generous breasts, then thrust his finger into her sex and make her wet—if she wasn’t already.
“Listen, Donovan,” she said impatiently, “I work in the trauma ward and it was a crazy night. I need to get some rest.”
“We both do, but we’ll continue this conversation later.”
“Here are some painkillers,” she said briskly, ignoring the comment as she retrieved a small, plastic pill container from her kit. “They’ll also help with any bruising.”
As she handed it to him, their fingers touched, and he spied a red tinge on her cheeks. At that moment he knew at some point they’d end up in bed. But suddenly a disturbing thought flashed through his mind.
“Phoebe, do you have a window that overlooks the street?”
“The sliding glass doors in the living room open to a patio. Why?”
“It’s possible my attackers had friends in the area. I should have checked to see if anyone was following us on the way over here. I’ll take a look. Stay here.”
“Seriously?” she exclaimed. “Holy crap! Wait! Are you a criminal? Is that why you didn’t want me to call the police?”
“Stop being hysterical,” he said tersely. “I hate to break it to you but not everyone on the force follows the straight and narrow. If my whereabouts ends up in the hands of the wrong person I’m screwed, and you will be too.”
“Again—seriously?”
“Yes, Phoebe, seriously. I’m going to see if there’s anyone watching this place, and you need to stay put.”
“Who exactly are you?” she muttered, her forehead wrinkling into a heavy frown. “Shit. What have I got myself into?”
“If you do as I say, absolutely nothing. Now stay put and don’t call anyone.”
“But why do I have to say here? Why can’t I go with you?“
He’d had enough. She was playing with their lives and it had to stop. Abruptly jerking her forward, he landed a hard slap on her ass, then spun her back around, pushed her against the wall and pinned her arms above her head.
“What the fuck?” she gasped, staring at him with wide, shocked eyes. “You hit me.”
“No, I swatted your ass, and I’ll do it again if you don’t listen! You saved my life now I’m trying to save yours. Please, Phoebe, just do as I say!”
“Okay, jeez.”
Roughly releasing her, he stepped into the hall and walked quickly down to the living room he’d passed on their way in. It was virtually dark but for a nightlight, and he hurried across to the sliding glass doors. Peering through a narrow gap in the center of the drapes, his sharp eyes scanned the street below.
Timing in life is everything.
The thought floated through his head as he spied the momentary glow of a tiny flame from a lighter inside a vehicle parked across the street.
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.
