Page 14 of Taming Her

He clasped her wrist with one hand.

With the other he released the cuffs on his belt. She couldn’t see his face, just his groin and his belt buckle and what looked like mace and a black shiny baton.

His face appeared. “You will sit still and quiet and get yourself under control.”

She was breathing hard. “And then you’ll let me go?”

He didn’t answer; instead, quick as a flash, he whacked the handcuffs on, the hard metal cool against her hot skin.

“How bloody dare you,” she said through gritted teeth and yanked her hands as far as they’d go, which wasn’t far. “Take these off.”

“No.”

The door slammed.

He got in the front and started the engine.

“Where are you taking me?”

He didn’t answer.

“Griff.” She softened her voice. “Don’t be like this, just take me home, for old times’ sake, eh? Give a friend a break.”

“And what would you do when you got there?” He pulled onto the deserted street.

“Er, go to bed.”

“And have another drink, another line, call up some crackhead to visit with supplies, or some friend with benefits for a fuck.”

“What? No!” She swallowed tightly. They were all things she could do if she wanted, but he didn’t need to know that. Except… how did he know that? “You have a very low opinion of me, considering we haven’t seen each other for years.”

“Years, is that right?”

“Yeah, like, since college.” She tipped to the right as he took a bend too fast.

“How about last Saturday night,” he said, glancing over his shoulder.

“Last Saturday… wait… at The Blood Hound?” Like a jigsaw slotting together, the pieces falling into place, she recalled the two officers kicking them out of the club. “Shit.”

“Yeah, you were shit-faced alright.”

She raised her arms and rubbed her forehead. She recalled thinking the taller of the two policemen, Griff, was a handsome son of a bitch, but hadn’t paid any more attention to him than that.

Yet she really should have.

“So are you taking me home?” she asked.

“No.”

Damn it, he was taking her to the station. “Listen, I’m sorry I struggled, I shouldn’t have whacked you like that.”

“Too damn right you shouldn’t have.”

“But I was just scared, okay, it’s a dark street, the middle of the night, a man had grabbed me.”

“A police officer who had just saved your life.”

“And I’m grateful.” Usually her sweetest voice and a smile got her out of unpleasant situations. “Griff, really I am.” She caught his eye in the rearview mirror and smiled, tipping her head, her hair falling over her shoulder. “You’re my hero.”

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