Seduced By The Hero. Pamela Yaye

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СКАЧАТЬ and I was scared if I didn’t intervene you’d kill him.”

      Dionne beamed, feeling a glimmer of pride at his words. “Serves him right for attacking me. He’s lucky I forgot my pepper spray at home, or I would have emptied the entire bottle on him.”

      Like his voice, his laugh was pleasing to her ears and brought a smile to her lips.

      “You’re a brave woman, Mrs. Fontaine. A woman of incredible strength and heart, and you should be very proud of yourself. Few people would have been able to fight the way you did, and I’m blown away by your courage.”

      Moved by his words, she soaked up his praise. “Please, call me Dionne.”

      “Only if you call me Immanuel. All my friends do.”

      Her thoughts returned to last night, and dread flooded her body. Dionne was curious about what had transpired after Immanuel arrived on scene, and was hoping he could fill in the blanks for her. “What happened after I blacked out? Did the mugger steal my purse?”

      “Yes, I’m afraid so, and your Lexus as well.”

      “Oh, no. My whole world was inside my purse. My wallet, my address book, my iPad.” A chilling thought entered her mind. “The mugger knows where I live. What if he’s at my house right now? Lying in wait?”

      Immanuel strode over to the bed and took her hand in his. He was a calm and comforting presence. Having him nearby made Dionne feel supported and less afraid. She didn’t know if it was because he looked like Emilio—a man she thought was considerate, compassionate and kind—or his warm disposition. But she liked his touch and drew strength from him. “I don’t have a security system at my new place. I’ve been meaning to install one, but I’ve been so busy with work I haven’t had the time.”

      “I know it’s upsetting, but try not to worry. The police are investigating...”

       What good will that do if the mugger attacks me in my sleep?

      “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of calling one of my technicians to change the locks at your house and office,” he explained. “And if you’d like, he can also install voice-activated alarm systems at both locations.”

      “How do you know where I live?”

      “I’m a security specialist. That’s my job.”

      Dionne felt a wave of relief wash over her. “Thank you, Mr. Morretti. I appreciate it. At least I know the crook isn’t in my house, robbing me blind.” She was glad Immanuel was there. “Have the cops identified my attacker? Do they know who he is? Have they found my car?”

      “No, not yet, but they assured me they’re working hard on the case.”

      “Where’s my cell phone? I need to call my family or they’ll be worried sick.”

      Immanuel released her hand and stroked the length of his jaw. “I’m not sure if detectives recovered it at the scene, but you can ask them when they come to take your statement—”

      The door swung open, and a slender fiftysomething nurse burst into the room. Her shoes squeaked as she approached the bed, and her frizzy white hair flapped around her face. “Good day, Mrs. Fontaine. How are you feeling this glorious afternoon?”

      “Afternoon?” Dionne repeated, confused by her words. “What time is it?”

      Immanuel checked his Rolex watch. “It’s twelve fifteen.”

      “I’ve been sleeping for more than fourteen hours?” she asked, unable to believe it.

      “You experienced a traumatic event last night and suffered a mild concussion,” the nurse explained. “You need your rest, and for the next few days you’ll have to take it easy.”

      Dionne didn’t need rest; she needed a stiff drink, something with a shot of Patrón in it. But she knew her serious, no-nonsense nurse would never honor her request. “I’m thirsty,” she said, touching her throat. “May I please get a cup of green tea?”

      “Of course. Just let me check your vitals first. I wanted to do it earlier, at the start of my shift, but you were sleeping soundly and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

      “You need your privacy,” Immanuel said. “I’ll wait outside.”

      No. Dionne opened her mouth to ask him to stay, but he was gone in the blink of an eye.

      * * *

      “Why did you fight back?” Detective Sluggs asked with a bewildered expression on his fat, fleshy face. “You could have been kidnapped, or worse, killed.”

      “No, he could have been killed, because I wasn’t going down without a fight.”

      The emergency room doctor, a twentysomething brunette with Prada eyeglasses, scrunched up her nose. “I see cases like this every day, and it always amazes me that people are willing to risk their lives over something as trivial as a car.”

      “It’s not about the car,” Dionne shot back, annoyed that they were giving her a hard time about the choices she’d made last night. “I work hard for the things I have, and no one has the right to take them from me. That’s why I fought back.”

      The doctor and the detective had entered her room ten minutes earlier, just as she was finishing lunch. But five minutes into the interview Dionne had already decided she didn’t like either one of them, especially Detective Sluggs. He was curt and condescending, and his head was so shiny it looked as though it had been polished with Pledge. Dionne couldn’t wait for him to leave. She’d had a busy morning and needed to rest. With the help of her nurse, she’d called the credit card companies, requested her accounts be canceled, then called her parents. She didn’t tell them about the attack or that she was at the hospital, and had to cut the conversation short when her mom told her to make amends with Jules before their November court date.

      “Fighting back only makes things worse,” Detective Sluggs said. “You should have given the mugger your purse, handed over your car keys, and gotten the hell out of the way.”

      Dionne hit the veteran detective with a cold, dark stare. Why does Detective Sluggs have to be such a jerk? Why can’t he be sympathetic and understanding like Immanuel? Taking a deep breath, she asked the question burning the tip of her tongue. “Is that the kind of advice you give your wife?”

      “I’m not married.”

       Why am I not surprised? Of course you’re single. You’re a chauvinist pig, just like my ex.

      “If you had cooperated with the perp, you wouldn’t have been hurt,” he continued, his tone thick with condemnation. “Next time you’re tempted to do something heroic, don’t, because it could cost you your life. A lot of these criminals are addicts, and the last thing you want to do is antagonize someone high on crack or crystal meth.”

      “Detective Sluggs is right,” the doctor agreed, fervently nodding her head. “It’s better to lose your car than to be beaten in the streets.”

      Dionne hung her head, stared down at her hands. Were they right? Had she acted СКАЧАТЬ