Free Donna Joy Usher - Chanel 01 - Cocoa and Chanel by Donna Joy Usher Page A

with my expandable baton in an attempt to stay awake.
    ‘I like a girl who knows how to handle a baton.’
    I looked up from my manual, unsuccessfully trying to close my mouth while I gawked at the speaker. His face was a heavenly mixture of cheekbones, eyelashes and kissable lips. His nose had been broken in the past but the asymmetry managed to add to his looks by injecting a dash of bad boy to his blonde haired, angelic profile. Add to all this a body that, even through the confines of his suit, you could tell spent hours in the gym and an English accent and I had to grip the edge of the table to stop myself jumping it to dry hump his leg.
    I wanted to say something witty in reply, but I had been staring at him with my mouth hanging open and if I didn’t say something soon he was going to think I was simple.
    ‘Hello,’ I said. Great , now he was definitely going to think I was simple.
    He came over to perch on the corner of my desk, so close I could smell his aftershave. Good God . Was it possible that he could be even more handsome close up?
    ‘I also like a good bun,’ he said, peering down at my hair. His eyes were a startling shade of blue. I found myself staring straight into them, holding my breath.
    ‘Detective Senior Sergeant Roger Richardson at your service,’ he said holding out his hand. His accent was totally dreamy.
    I took it in mine and, still gazing into his eyes, said, ‘Probationary Constable Chanel Bun. Oh… I mean Smith.’
    Christ. Did I really just say that?
    ‘Constable Bun,’ he said, smiling, ‘it’s a pleasure to meet you.’
    I gave him my cutest smile, hoping I didn’t have any donut stuck on my front teeth, and wishing I could think of something intelligent to say.
    ‘What do you say to coming for a ride with me?’
    I desperately wanted to go, but I didn’t want to get into trouble on my first day. ‘I’m meant to be reading the manual,’ I said, hoping that didn’t make me sound like a loser.
    ‘Let me have a word with Ramy,’ he said, gliding off my desk.
    I watched him walk across the room towards the hall, trying to think what his walk reminded me of. It wasn’t till he was on his way back a few minutes later that I got it. He moved like a lion, or a tiger. Like a predator.
    ‘Come on Constable Bun,’ he said, ‘we’re out of here.’
    It was ridiculous how much pleasure I got out of his use of the word ‘we’. I was going to have to get a grip or make a total dick of myself.
    ‘Got your gun?’ he said.
    ‘Ahuh.’ The weight of the vest with the gun, baton, torch and spray was going to take some getting used to.
    ‘Is there one in the barrel?’
    ‘Pardon?’
    ‘Have they showed you where to load it?’
    I shook my head, a bit embarrassed that I had been about to embark on my first foray as a policewoman with an unloaded gun.
    ‘Come on,’ he said. He took me down to the gun locker. ‘We can only go in one at a time so I’ll have to tell you what to do. In there you’ll find a gun loading machine. You always load your gun with it facing into the machine.’
    ‘In case I misfire?’
    ‘Exactly.’
    I opened the door to the locker room.
    ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘you’ll find your locker in there with a padlock on it. That’s where your gun lives when you’re not working.’
    I nodded my head. ‘Anything else?’
    ‘Just smile for the cameras.’
    I entered the locker room and looked around. Cameras were located in the four corners of the room filming the two rows of lockers that ran back to back down the centre. I could see one with my name on it. A padlock with a key sticking out of it hung from the latch.
    At the far end was the gun-loading machine. I put my hand in there with the gun, barrel facing away from me, and inserted the magazine. Then I pulled back on the top, chambering a round.
    I was insanely nervous about holding the loaded weapon. I mean I know I’d done it before but this was different. There was no-one here to tell me if what