The woman shrank back in alarm. He made a threatening move towards her. Harper stood up, all six feet, two inches of her. She faced the gunman head on.
“What do you want with her?”
He made a crude gesture. The woman sobbed.
“No,” Harper said.
With sudden violence, he knocked off the police hat and grabbed her by the pony tail.
The female customer screamed. The guard yelled.
“Shut it!” The assailant hissed. He pulled Harper half way across the lobby. She struggled mightily. Her feet slid and dragged, his fist in her hair, burned her scalp to the roots.
“I’m a put that mouth of yours to better use.”
Harper made her body go limp. She took him down to the floor with her. The gunman cursed rancid breath in her face. Sheer terror coursed through her body. Harper couldn’t reach her gun. She vaguely remembered Donavan say something about going for the windpipe. Harper rammed the sharp point of her elbow to the base of the man’s throat. The gunman wheezed as if the air were knocked from his lungs. He snarled and slammed her head against the hard floor. Harper saw swirling black dots in her line of vision. At the very edge was Donavan – stone cold and lethal.
Kill shot. None of this constitutional rights, lawyer up and trial crap. The bastard had Harper pinned to the floor, a fist in her hair. Donavan fired two shots to the head. The robber was dead before he hit the floor.
Donavan was instantly by her side. He lifted her in his arms, stroked her hair.
“Hey,” he said in a soft tone he’d never used with her before.
She smiled faintly. “Thor, you’re late.”
Then she lost consciousness. Donavan felt a moment of blind panic. “Harper!” she didn’t move an inch. “Harper!” He felt for her pulse with unsteady hands. He let out a pent up breath. Great, she’s alive. I’m gonna kill her!
Chapter 4
Aberdeen Police and firefighters sat in the waiting room of Mercy Hospital.
Donavan had to take a jog around the building just to calm himself down. Apparently, he still looked homicidal when he entered the waiting room.
“Bro,” Officer Cole Eastman said, “Murder is still a crime.”
“Let her live!” The Sheriff said.
“Harper’s the best paramedic we’ve got,” The Firefighter Chief mumbled, “Ran off the newbie.”
“Another one?” Someone called. The men laughed.
“She got a bigger set a balls than yours,” An officer said. The men smiled.
A cop clapped Donavan on the shoulder. “You gotta lighten up.”
Donavan growled.
“Okay then,” The officer scooted out of punching range. An ER physician, Doctor Quinn Daily approached them in blue scrubs.
All the uniformed men shot to their feet, all laughter aside. “Officers, I’m Doctor Daily, I treated Officer Jake Callahan, he’s in intensive care but stable. His prognosis is good.”
The police officers and firefighters sighed and clapped each other on the back, their relief palpable.
“Paramedic Harper Grant was admitted to our neurology unit as a precaution, she sustained a grade three concussion, we’re going to monitor her for any long term affects.”
Grade three concussion – did she have brain damage? Seizures? A coma? Donavan told himself to get a grip. He took a shuddering breath. “Have her parents been notified?”
“Yes, next of kin are in Europe, they’re on the next plane out, they gave consent to an Officer Donavan McClain for health information, is that you?”
“Yes,” Donavan said, “I’ll stay with her until they come.”
His fellow officers exchanged pointed looks. Donavan followed the ER physician down the hall. The fire chief did the sign of the cross over his chest. “Jesus, Joseph and Mary, have mercy on Harper’s soul.”
“He’s gonna rip her a new one,” A firefighter predicted. The officers promptly made bets. “My money’s on Harper!” Someone yelled with a $10 bill in his hand.
The men laughed and exchanged money. The fire chief scratched his gray beard. “You think she’ll survive Hurricane Donavan?”
“Yep,” The Sheriff said.
“You sound certain.”
“McClain’s been in love with that girl for years.”
The chief’s jaw dropped. “No way.”
“Care to place a friendly wager on that?”
The two captains shook hands.
Donavan stood at the foot of her hospital bed, totally out of his depth. He was so used to yelling at her, arguing, doing whatever he could to irritate her, he had no idea what to do now. The sight of Harper with her glorious black hair loose, porcelain skin so pale and delicate, sleeping fitfully just disturbed him. He swallowed past the icy lump in his throat.
“You’re sure she’ll be okay?” he asked the doctor.
“Her CAT scan and EEG were normal, no intracranial pressure or swelling of the brain, no cerebral bleeding. She’s on a pain pump for the headaches. We’ll be doing neurological checks every two hours throughout the night.”
“I’ll be here, thank you doctor.”
Long after she left, Donavan just stood there, staring at the machines that beeped, numbers flashed – heartrate, blood pressure, oxygen level, heart rhythm’s thin lines. The pain pump dripped medication through an intravenous line.
Donavan pulled up a chair near her bed. He gave into the urge to take her hand. Her palm didn’t have the softness of most women. The life lines were bold, the skin tough, these were working hands. Her fingers were surprisingly long and graceful. The nails short, blunt, plain of color. Donavan doubted if Harper ever had a manicure in her life. Suddenly, her fingers contacted around his. Donavan’s head came up. Absently he traced her life line with his thumb.
“You know, I could’ve been relaxing on a beach, sipping cocktails with Kimber butt naked.”
Harper stared at him unblinking. Her eyes were the color of wet leaves. Donavan’s chest felt tight, she looked so uncharacteristically vulnerable.
“Hey,” he said gruffly. Harper whispered something. He leaned closer. “What did you say?”
“Kimber’s tits are fake.”
Donavan grinned. “How are you feeling?”
“My head,” she winced.
Donavan realized with a start, he still held her hand. He abruptly let go.
“Your parents are taking the red eye from London, they’ll be here by morning.”
Harper nodded, flinched from the movement and closed her eyes. “You…can…go,” she said. Not a chance. He didn’t budge.
Her eyes flew to his. “Is he dead?”
“Yes.”
She sighed, relieved. “I feel woozy.”
“You’re on a pain drip.”
She drifted in and out of sleep. Harper couldn’t handle more than a glass of wine. How someone her height could be so sensitive to alcohol was beyond him. If a half glass of white zinfandel gave her a buzz – rum, whiskey, vodka, and brandy would knock her out cold. He didn’t know what a powerful IV narcotic would do to her.
An hour later he found out. It gave her nightmares. Donavan closed the room door and dimmed the lights. He tucked a blanket around her when she stiffened.
“Harper?”
She tossed and turned. Her hands curled into fists. Her breath shallow and fast. The monitor alarmed as her heart rate spiked. Her blood pressure climbed.
“Harper!”
She whimpered in her sleep. The sound made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Harper was in the grip of a night terror. Donavan tried to wake her up again. Her pulse continued to climb – 95-110-120 –
A nurse rushed in. She assumed Donavan was the significant other. “She needs to calm down, she could be reliving the trauma of the assault, it helps if you hold her.”
Donavan took down the side rail. He did something he never thought possible. He climbed in bed with Amaz
on. She curled into his arms as if she belonged there. Tentatively, Donavan wrapped his arms protectively around her.
“There, you see?” The RN nodded towards the monitor. As soon as he touched her, Harper’s breathing slowed to normal, her pulse lowered, blood pressure stabilized.
“Love is the best medicine,” The nurse said before leaving.
Love? Donavan cursed under his breath. Harper drove him crazy. She always had, from day one, back in the First Grade they fought like scalded cats. His hands were gentle now, rubbing her back in soothing circles, stroking her hair. Damn, it’s so soft! The blue black hair flowed like velvet silk through his fingers. One of the curls wrapped around his thumb. An odd flutter filled his chest.
Donavan longed for the physical distance of the chair. Harper snuggled closer. Her long, athletic body fit perfectly with his. Donavan wanted to let go and get the hell out of that bed. He glanced at the monitor. Her vital signs were normal. Damn pain drip! Being this close to her made him feel…uncomfortable. He shifted. Harper scooted closer. Her hand rested on his chest. One long leg draped over his. Donavan cursed softly. “What am I going to do with you?” he whispered.
Harper sighed, pure contentment. He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Who would I argue with if something happened to you, huh?”
Harper burrowed her face in his neck. He felt part amused, part down right awkward.
She inhaled him. “God, you smells so good,” she whispered. Donavan froze. Did the pain medication cause hallucinations? The touch of her tongue on his neck shocked him so much, Donavan forgot to breathe. Her lips sucked the side of his neck. “I love the way you taste.”
Donavan’s body went rigid. Every muscle in his body tensed. He was suddenly so aroused, so turned on, he was appalled. This is Harper! Harper Grant, arch enemy, thorn in his side, pain in the ass, gets on his last nerve - Harper. She rubbed her long leg between his.
“Oh Jesus,” he whispered hoarsely. His hand caught in her glorious hair. The other itched to explore all her lush curves and valleys. No! You let go of her right now McClain! She’s high on medication and she took a blow to the head.
That had to be it, he thought. Harper had him confused with someone else. Her hand traveled across his broad chest. Donavan shuddered. What the hell is happening? His body wanted her with a raging desire he hadn’t felt since high school. The night of Senior Prom when-
Donavan ruthlessly suppressed the memory. Harper moaned his name. It took every ounce of self-control not to roll her over and kiss, lick and taste every inch of her. Damn it woman!
Harper whispered, “Remember when we kissed?”
“I thought we promised never to talk about that?” he said gruffly.
You keep your hands to yourself McClain! His conscience raged. She’s not in her right mind. Don’t you dare take advantage!
“Kiss me again,” she said breathlessly.
“No,” he said firmly.
“I thought about it, about you, when I thought I was gonna die.”
“Hush baby, you’re safe now,” he said. “I’m here.”
Donavan resumed stroking her hair. Remember when we kissed? Oh he tried to block it out of his mind but the memory taunted him now with excruciating detail.
Chapter 5
10 years ago…
Harper wore the dress to please her mother. Yellow chiffon, puffed sleeves and jeweled bodice with matching hat with yellow feathers, stockings and high heels that wobbled when she walked. In the ballroom, Harper tried to make herself invisible. But of course, the cool kids noticed her. Dylan Chambers, Jake Callahan and that awful Donavan McClain. They laughed at her on sight. At least Dylan tried to hide it. Not Donavan. Harper attempted to blend into the far wall with the other dateless girls. But her friend, Emerson had other ideas.
“Why should we hide?” she asked. “Let’s dance!” she grabbed Harper’s hand and their friend, Devon. They danced under neon lights and tacky streamers. Harper’s dress swished back and forth as her hips moved to the beat. She still didn’t feel like a girl. It was hard to feel feminine when she towered over most of the boys. Oh well, at least her best friend Sawyer had a date. They waved at each other from across the dance floor.
Donavan danced with his date. The dazzling Jennifer with her low cut mini dress and boobs that jiggled as she gyrated against him. Dylan tapped him on the shoulder and asked him to dance with Devon.
Devon was the queen of the nerds, curly brown hair, cherub face and a brain the size of a small planet. She had a photographic memory, was top of her class and read every book in the school library. She was a lock for most likely to succeed. Jen pouted prettily when he asked Devon to dance.
Devon stared up at him with a quizzical look. “The statistical probability of someone like you asking someone like me to dance is one in eight hundred twenty-six thousand, six hundred and two.”
Donavan blinked at her. He didn’t even wanna know how she came up with that. The girl’s a freakazoid. Dylan owed him bigtime. When Donavan saw his friend dancing with Emerson Riley he finally understood. Dyl had been crazy about that girl for months but never made a move until now. Good for him! Devon stepped on his toes six times, bless her. The song seemed to last forever. Over her shoulder, he spotted Dylan ask Jake to dance with Amazon. Donavan glared at her. Harper glared right back. They had a fierce silent exchange.
Amazon!
Thor!
Butterball!
Caveman!
Donavan’s eyes narrowed to slits. Jake held her just a little too close. What’s he playing at? As the song finally ended, Jake led Harper out of the ballroom to the gardens beyond. Oh hell no! Donavan bristled. Irrational anger poured through him like acid. He abruptly walked off the dance floor, leaving poor Devon and his date behind. No choice, he had to follow.
Harper felt breathless anticipation. She started out the night dateless, embarrassed by her gangly size. Now Jake Callahan, one of the most popular boys in school walked beside her. The lush botanical gardens looked enchanting in the moonlight.
“Can’t believe we’ve never spoken before,” Jake said. “You’re funny, smart and kinda cute.”
Harper burst out laughing. She’d been called a lot of things in her life, cute definitely wasn’t one of them. They passed other couples, some walking hand in hand others making out in the shadows. Jake smoothly turned her down a dim path. An ivy covered wall concealed them from view. Jake flashed his signature, high wattage grin. He was really good looking – wavy brown hair, dreamy hazel eyes, tanned gold skin with an athlete’s body. He wanted to kiss her, she could tell by the way he inched closer. He cupped her cheek with his hand and leaned in. It’s gonna happen! It’s gonna happen! My first kiss, finally!
Harper dreamed of this moment. She never imagined it would be with someone she didn’t really care about but at least she’d know what a kiss felt like. Harper closed her eyes and waited. She heard a thump. Her eyes flew open. Donavan knocked Jake on his ass.
“Are you kidding me?” Donavan hissed.
Jake leaped up and brushed dirt from his pants. “Yo, chill out man.”
“She’s off limits!” Donavan said, “You can have most any girl you want, not this one.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Come on man.”
Donavan shoved him back hard. “You and me, we’re gonna have a problem if you don’t back off and apologize.”
Jake twisted his lips. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He gave a mock salute before turning on his heel and leaving.
Silence. Harper glared at him. The undercurrents between them made Donavan uneasy in the darkness. Harper folded her arms tight beneath her breasts. When the hell did she grow boobs?
“Why do you have to ruin everything?” she yelled.
“Oh should I just let Jake add you to his little black book? Yeah, he keeps a record of every girl he kisses, makes out with or has sex with, then he rates them on a scale of smoking hot to ice ice baby
. Is that what you want?”
She paled, then flushed crimson. “No damn it.”
“So what’s your problem?”
“You!” she burst out. “Why do you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you,” he said irritably.
“I didn’t want to come to this stupid dance anyway.”
“Then go home.”
“Not without my first kiss.”
Donavan laughed. Then he saw the stricken look on her face. “Oh, you’re not kidding.”
“Ugh! Be a jerk why don’t you.”
“I’m sorry but it’s hard for me to take you seriously when you look like Big Bird.” He laughed at his own joke. He expected some snappy comeback or insult. Harper threw the lopsided yellow feathered hat at him.
The air instantly crackled between them, like electric static. Donavan closed the distance in two strides. Damn she’s tall. They were almost nose to nose.
“I’ll kiss you.”
“Fine.”
“With tongue or no?”
“Um, not sure.”
“Trust me, you want tongue, hard or soft?”
“Er, soft?”
“Eyes opened or closed?”
“Closed.”
Without warning, his head swooped down. Her lips were so soft and juicy, Donavan felt hot shivers up and down his spine. His tongue seductively parted her lips and slid over hers. Harper moaned. Her tongue shyly mated with his. Next thing he knew, Donavan lost his mind. He deepened the kiss to a fever pitch. His hands roamed up and down her back, waist and luscious ass. Who knew?! Harper touched his chest. Her hands swept up his back. Her nails dug into his shirt and pulled him closer. The kiss went on and on, hot and passionate. Donavan wanted to be deep inside her with every fiber in his body. The primitive urge to take her right there in the garden, shook him to the core. Harper’s innocent exploration of his chest, the way she kissed him back with such sweet intensity, nearly drove him over the edge. Someone blared a car horn in the distance. That’s what saved Harper Grant’s virginity. Donavan broke the kiss, stunned into silence. The sound of their harsh breathing mingled in the night.
“Donavan-”
Slow Burn: A Texas Heat Novel Page 2