by Ana Ban
Once we broke into the clear air of night, Donovan slid into the back of a black SUV, still grasping me in his arms. The first man approached and a blanket was wrapped around me. Immediately the door shut, and we were on the move.
With the warmth of the blanket, the shivers became worse before they slowed. Donovan rubbed my arms, my legs through the blanket, whispering encouragement to me during the drive. The windows of the car were darkly tinted, and I knew no one would be able to see inside. There was a separation between the driver and where Donovan sat, with me still snuggled into his arms.
His warmth began to seep through, and I realized he would probably be able to warm me quicker than any blanket. The thought terrified me, and I remained silent.
The car pulled into an underground garage, and Donovan carried me into an elevator and to the top floor. I knew the building, though it was not one we’d ever suspected of being Selena’s.
After an eye and hand scanner let us into the penthouse, Donovan brought me straight to the bathroom. I was acutely aware that we were alone. He sat me gently on a settee before turning to an oversized tub to run the water.
He knelt before me again, carefully removing the blanket. When my hands were free, he took them gently and looked into my eyes.
“Do you know me?” He asked.
I hesitated, then shook my head. This seemed to hurt him, but he continued.
“My name is Donovan. I’m going to help you into a bath. It will warm you up, and get you clean. After that, a doctor will examine you. You’ve been held for several months. Do you remember?”
Turning my head away, I let a tear leak from the corner of my eye. His hand cupped my cheek, his tone growing even softer.
“Please don’t worry. You’re safe now. I’ll make sure of it. I’m going to help you out of your clothes. Please don’t be afraid.”
Taking a deep breath, I waited another moment before meeting his eyes. Slowly, I nodded my consent.
He lifted the ragged, torn shirt over my head. I wore nothing beneath but dirt. Helping me to my feet, Donovan slid my pants to the floor. I was shaking again, but it had less to do with the cold.
Lifting me again into his arms, Donovan brought me to the tub and began lowering me into the welcoming heat. As my toe first touched the water, I gasped and pulled my foot away.
“Take all the time you need,” he said, watching my face. Taking a breath, I nodded again, letting him lower me all the way.
The heat pricked my skin, and it took several minutes before it began to feel good. As it did, I relaxed back into the tub, closing my eyes. Donovan stayed next to me, and I remained absurdly aware of him. Once I relaxed, he reached for a bottle of shampoo, working it into my hair. His fingers massaged my scalp, working out the grime of the last few days. Next, he poured body wash onto a sponge and wiped it in small circles over my skin, being extremely careful with the many cuts and bruises covering my skin. Though I could tell he was attempting to be clinical, I felt every pass of his hands down to my core.
“Wait here for a moment,” he said, replacing the sponge. I watched as he walked to the standup shower, turning on the spray, testing the temperature. When he came back, he held out both hands. “Let me help you stand up, and we’ll get rinsed off in the shower.”
Nodding, I grasped his hands and pulled myself up. I was unsteady on my feet, and he took his cue and wrapped an arm around my waist to lift me over the edge of the tub and set me down near the open shower. With one hand, I tested the spray; it was much hotter than the tub had been. Though it felt good, as soon as it hit my open wounds, I let out a hiss of pain.
Donovan was there immediately, ignoring the deluge of water as it poured over his clothes. His body blocked mine from the spray, and I felt ridiculously protected. Taking a steeling breath, I put a hand on his chest and backed him away, letting the water once again wash over me. It was amazing the amount of dirt that was washing down the drain, and eventually the pain receded to a dull ache.
Once I was rinsed clean, Donovan produced a large, soft, warm towel from a heated bar and wrapped me in it like a child. As was quickly becoming habit, he lifted me into his arms and carried me to the adjoining room, setting me in the center of a large bed.
“Relax,” he said in a quiet voice. “The doctor will be right in. I’m going to put on some dry clothes and I’ll be right back.”
When he disappeared down the hall, I scooted against the headboard, falling back into the plush linens. Taking my first look around, I was surprised by the décor. Most things in the room were soft whites and muted beiges, giving it an all over clean feel. Perhaps I had expected black satin and blood red accents.
There was nothing personal in the room, though it felt homey. My own apartment had just the barest furnishings and no sense of style, due to my lack of time and interest. Though, and I was afraid to admit this even to myself, had I either of those things, this was how I would have decorated.
A woman entered then, slight of stature but wearing a warm smile. At first glance I would have placed her in her thirties, but the slight graying of her hair around the edges and a few deep laugh lines had me pegging her late forties to early fifties.
“Hello, dear,” she said in a soothing voice. “I’m Dr. White. Let’s get you patched up, shall we?”
While she spoke, Donovan reappeared, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, just watching. Focusing on the doctor, I nodded my approval. Much like the rest of Selena’s employees, she worked quickly and efficiently.
She glanced back at Donovan and asked for privacy. He seemed hesitant, but acquiesced. When he was gone from the room, the doctor looked back at me, her bandaging done.
“What do you remember from the last few months?”
I tried to convey my fear with my eyes, not wanting to speak.
“Are you able to speak?” The doctor asked next.
Taking the out, I shook my head slowly.
She nodded, contemplating. “Do you feel safe here?”
Keeping my eyes steady on hers, I slowly nodded. She seemed satisfied by this.
“You have quite a bit of physical healing to do, and I believe with proper rest and care, your memories will come back to you.” Pulling a card from her pocket, she set it on the bedside table before continuing. “This is my number, if you need anything, day or night, please call. I will be back tomorrow to check in on you.”
I nodded again. Donovan returned then, sporting a tray with tea and toast.
“You’ve read my mind,” Dr. White complimented him. “Take it slow with solid food. Wait a few minutes between bites to be sure it stays down.”
Donovan placed the tray beside me on the bed. “Try to drink and eat. I’ll be back after I walk the doctor out.”
They left, and I knew they’d be discussing me. I really hoped I played the part right, and they both believed I was Selena.
So far, this was not how I expected being undercover to be. Perhaps that was due to my injuries. Or we’d completely misjudged Selena and Donovan.
When he returned, I’d taken two bites of the dry toast. The herbal tea was delicious and hot, warming my insides in a way the bath couldn’t.
“Finish what you can,” he encouraged. “Are you in pain? The doctor left medication if you need it.”
I shook my head. The last thing I wanted was drugs affecting my coherence. Taking another bite, I met Donovan’s gaze, wondering what was really going through his mind. His eyes stayed steady on mine until I felt as if I were sinking into him. I was the one to break contact, fiddling with the teacup.
“Tired?” He asked with the same gentleness he’d been exhibiting since he found me.
Nodding, I allowed him to take the tray before shifting down to lay my head against the pillows. Returning to my side, he rested his palm against my upper arm. “I’ll be here if you need anything in the night,” he said, gesturing towards the overstuffed lounge chair sitting beneath a set of windows. As he spoke, he seemed to r
emember I couldn’t speak. Holding up a finger, he disappeared again, only to return with a bell.
Setting it on the table, he explained, “To get my attention.”
Instead of just nodding, I tried out a tentative smile. His answering one transformed his normally hard, rugged face and I nearly gasped at the difference.
“Goodnight,” he whispered, placing a kiss on my forehead. Turning out the light, I noticed there was a small glow coming from the bathroom. Thoughtful, I realized.
I listened as he settled into the chair, pulling a blanket from a drawer. I had done it. I was in the viper’s nest, as Alec had put it. Turning on my side, I watched Donovan’s form silhouetted against the chair. How was I ever going to sleep?
Chapter 15
Sleep came surprisingly easy. After staring at Donovan’s dark form for just a few minutes, I remembered nothing until morning, feeling more rested than I had, even with medication, for a long time.
When my eyes opened, there was just a faint stream of light through the blackout curtains. For the moment, I was alone, and I also had to use the restroom.
Testing my muscles, I sat up gingerly. After pausing to assess my injuries, I decided I would give standing a go. Swinging my legs sideways, I shifted down until my toes touched the ground and slowly allowed my feet to hold my weight. There I stayed, gripping the side of the bed, until I felt sure I could move.
I took a few steps toward the bathroom, using tables and walls as support. When I was in the doorway, I heard a noise behind me.
Quickly, two arms wrapped around my middle. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Donovan said. “Let me help you.”
He guided me into the bathroom, though he allowed me to stay on my feet. When we reached the small room that housed the toilet, he left me to my business. I was quick, and as soon as I opened the door, he was there again, helping me to the sink and then back to the bed.
Once I was settled back under covers, I realized where he’d been. The tray was back, with more toast, tea and some fruit.
“Dr. White said to add things slowly,” Donovan explained. “We’ll try some vegetable soup for lunch.”
I nodded, and tried out a smile again before taking a sip of tea. It tasted of lavender, and had pieces of fresh ginger floating in the liquid.
“The ginger will help settle your stomach,” he explained when he saw where my attention had gone. I looked up at him again, surprised. This was really not what I expected from a man like Donovan.
After taking a bite of toast, I tried some berries. They were sweet and tasted fresher than I normally got from the grocery store.
“I have some work I need to do today,” Donovan told me. “Though I will be here the whole time. It would be best for you to rest as much as possible. I’ve brought some books, if you’d like to read,” he gestured towards the bedside table. “And the bell is still here, if you need me for anything. If you want to get out of bed, please ring for me.”
I nodded my understanding, eating more of the toast. He waited until I was finished with the tray before taking it out of the room. Just a few minutes later he returned with a glass of water, setting that beside the books.
“Drink when you can,” Donovan explained, “Dr. White was concerned you might be dehydrated.”
With a smile, I selected a book from the pile and slipped further under the covers.
“I’ll just be in the next room,” he reminded me again before leaving.
With nothing else to do, I opened the book and was surprised to find a title of a novel I’d been wanting to read, just could never find the time.
It had been drilled into me to take my recovery slow enough to be believable. Every part of me wanted to get started on my real work, but I knew I had to bide my time, earn Donovan’s trust back. If that meant lying in bed and reading a good book, that is exactly what I would do.
Throughout the morning I continued to read, well rested enough to not even attempt sleep. Donovan checked on me about every hour, bringing me into the bathroom when I needed it. At lunch time, he brought vegetable soup as promised, fresh chunks of vegetables in a clear broth that was clearly homemade. Toast was on the side, and to my surprise, I ate all of it.
Just after lunch, Dr. White visited again, checking my bandages and replacing them with a fresh batch. She asked more questions about my condition, and she seemed encouraged by my appetite. The afternoon I read and napped the best I could, only drifting lightly. When dinner time arrived, I was going stir crazy.
As Donovan brought in another tray, I was already sitting up, feet dangling a few inches from the floor, waiting for him.
“Do you need to use the bathroom?” He asked, rushing to my side.
I shook my head no. He seemed to understand.
“You’d like to get out of this bed,” he commented. My bright smile was all the answer he needed. “Dinner al fresco it is.”
Grabbing a robe from a hook in the bathroom, Donovan wrapped it around me, tying it securely at my waist. Then, without waiting for my consent, he scooped me up and carried me through the spacious loft. I only caught glimpses of the rooms as we went by, getting the impression of similar decorating as the bedroom, before he stopped at a patio door. Swinging it open, he set me in a comfortable patio chair before going to fetch the tray.
The view was breathtaking. We were easily 30 stories up, one of the larger buildings in Baltimore. From here, there was a beautiful view of downtown enveloping the bay, and further out, the ocean.
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” Donovan commented, setting the tray down. The look on my face was more than likely a sufficient answer, but I nodded anyway. “It’s one of your favorite spots.”
This took my attention away from the view and to his face. He smiled lightly and indicated the food. “You should eat.”
The fresh air felt amazing, though the breeze at this height left me shivering. Donovan noticed immediately, retrieving a blanket from inside to wrap around me. He didn’t speak much, watching the city with me, though I knew he didn’t miss a single movement I made. As I finished the meal, Donovan began speaking again.
“Dr. White suggested beginning some physical activity tomorrow. I’ve called in a PT to help you regain your strength. Will you be comfortable with that?”
I watched him carefully before nodding. The sooner I could be healthy, the better. I’d never laid around so much in my life.
The next several days fell into an easy pattern. Donovan would bring me breakfast in the morning, and stand in the bathroom while I showered. The PT would show up, and all of my exercises were done in my room. Lunch on the balcony, reading in bed until dinner, when Donovan would join me again on the balcony.
He continued to sleep on the chair in my room, though I couldn’t imagine it to be very comfortable with his lanky body. I still didn’t speak, and that was getting difficult.
After three days, I was able to walk to the bathroom on my own. Donovan still hovered, clearly overprotective, but allowing me to use my own power.
When I had been there a week, I was feeling fine physically, and healthier than normal, too, with Donovan’s home cooking. The rare times I normally ate were hastily eaten from takeout containers. The PT had mentioned a full gym on one of the levels of the building, and my body itched to use it. More than that, though, I was ready to fully begin my work.
As I went to sleep that night, I watched Donovan’s figure for a long time. I could tell by his light breathing that he was already asleep. He had shown me nothing but concern, and I was having a difficult time connecting this Donovan with the rap sheet I knew so well.
It didn’t help that his every touch still felt like electricity through my body. That was something I had to shut down, but my body had other ideas. Then, my biggest concern- what would happen if the real Selena showed up?
It was with these thoughts that I finally drifted to sleep, the outline of Donovan still behind my lids. I felt restless even in sleep, the way I always had before I�
�d started the sleep medication. Images flitted through my mind, vivid dreams with no meaning, flashes of intuition that quickly disappeared. Suddenly I felt locked down, as if a heavy weight was pressing against me. Struggling to breathe, reaching for consciousness, my eyes shot open with a gasp.
Donovan was there, his hands firmly holding my upper arms, his legs straddling my hips.
“Shh, Selena, breathe, you’re safe,” he whispered, over and over. When I calmed down enough to stop struggling, Donovan released my arms and shifted into a more conventional position beside me.
“You were having nightmares, crying in your sleep,” he murmured, wiping at my cheek. I realized they were wet with tears.
He stayed by my side for a few more minutes, staring into my eyes. Though the nightmares were receding, my heartbeat quickened for a whole other reason.
“Will you be all right to sleep?” Donovan finally asked.
Sucking in a breath, I nodded.
He stroked my face one more time, resting his palm briefly against my cheek before rising.
“Donovan,” my voice came out cracked, hoarse from no use.
He spun in shock, staring at me. For the first time since I’d met him, he seemed hesitant.
Later, I would blame the nightmares. Reaching one hand towards him, I whispered, “Stay.”
Approaching cautiously, the way one would a frightened deer, Donovan returned to the bed. When he was stretched out beside me, I scooted down so my head lay against his shoulder while his free arm wrapped around my waist. He was warm, his body heat enveloping me quickly. Snuggling into him, I felt my heart slow to a normal pace and something shifted inside me.
It was easy then to drift off to sleep. A final thought crossed my mind just as sleep took me. It described exactly the way it felt to be in Donovan’s arms.
Home.
Chapter 16
My eyes slid open and I had a moment of complete disorientation. There were arms wrapped around me and I was pressed against a hard body. It had been a long time since I’d been this close to another; even when I dated Cole, he had never slept over. And then I remembered- I’d invited him in.