Resisting Her

Resisting Her Kendall Ryan From the NEW YORK TIMES bestselling author of FILTHY BEAUTIFUL LIESShe's too young.Too vulnerable.I'm too rough.Too messed up.I will ruin her.But you and I both know that won't stop me.Resisting her is harder than I ever imagined. My name is Cole, and this is my story of trying to do the right thing, and failing. Don't judge me too harshly until you've read the final page. Resisting Her BY KENDALL RYAN Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk) First published by Kendall Ryan Books 2014 First published in Great Britain by Harper 2015 Copyright © Kendall Ryan 2014 Cover photograph © Frederic Cirou / PlainPicture Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015 Kendall Ryan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Source ISBN: 9781481175678 Ebook Edition © April 2015 ISBN: 9780008134051 Version 2015-04-13 Contents Cover (#u9a6d1fe3-18e7-5deb-8fc6-fcfd941719b4) Title Page (#u626a7f7f-bbf4-51fb-83f2-581d49ff03b1) Copyright (#ud1fe6cb8-4098-5627-a733-a53c05866c84) Prologue (#u49e0131a-2c67-5827-b8d5-9f54f9e7cc82) Chapter 1 (#u4af6b9e7-c54c-5154-bf3d-303765d84925) Chapter 2 (#uf1cef905-ec6c-5d44-a150-d43f5b2e9db9) Chapter 3 (#u75cacac1-e208-5dc3-91dd-9c56a7e5c204) Chapter 4 (#udab15ee7-8f30-5d64-8072-ec65afcddbc0) Chapter 5 (#u556958f9-bbab-512c-8455-7044e6e286c4) Chapter 6 (#ud7398aec-1eae-5690-a2d7-4deb77279bfc) Chapter 7 (#uf3614d99-c141-53f9-839d-83140c24598c) Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 33 (#litres_trial_promo) Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo) Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo) Read More From Kendall Ryan (#litres_trial_promo) About the Author (#litres_trial_promo) Tell Me Your Favourite Part (#litres_trial_promo) Connect With Kendall Ryan: (#litres_trial_promo) Also by Kendall Ryan (#litres_trial_promo) About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo) Prologue (#u68d3a775-dd4c-5f22-ac22-5c068d345d2b) Cole listened to the soft sounds of her breathing, wondering how he’d allowed himself to get into this situation. He was not a cuddler. Yet there he was, his arm numb and asleep where it rested under Savannah’s cheek. She had no problem staking her claim and getting comfortable in his bed, even if that meant using his various body parts as a pillow. Her favorites seemed to be his chest or shoulder. Though right now, his bicep was a close third. He didn’t want to move her, didn’t want to rouse her from sleep. He’d promised her she’d be okay and found himself unable to break that promise in any form. If she needed to be close to another warm body while she slept, what hardship was it for him? Other than the awkward erection and numb arm—he’d live. She sighed contentedly and rolled in closer, throwing one leg over his hip which did nothing to help the blood flow racing south. He knew if he crossed that physical boundary with Savannah he wouldn’t be the gentle lover she deserved. The overwhelming feeling of want she stirred within him wouldn’t allow for that. He’d fuck her hard and fast. And since he was pretty sure she was still a virgin, she deserved someone who would be careful, soft, and take his time. Another reason why he wasn’t the man for the job. Cole shifted her knee to relieve the pressure of her warm thigh against his groin and tried to relax. During times like this his mind often wandered and he couldn’t help but remember the first time he’d laid eyes on her. She’d been a startled little thing, huddled in the corner, watching him with wide eyes. Even then she’d roused in him all kinds of protective instincts, made the alpha male inside him come out in a big way. And if his current cuddling status was any indication, she still did. He tightened his grip around her unconsciously drawing her nearer. Even if he couldn’t act on the desire he felt for the woman in his bed, he sure as fuck wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. Savannah squirmed in her sleep, murmuring lightly. He brought his free hand to her hair, sweeping the tousled strands from her forehead to quiet her. She was too vulnerable, too damaged, which was exactly why he needed to stop thinking with his dick. Pronto. Chapter 1 (#u68d3a775-dd4c-5f22-ac22-5c068d345d2b) What a cluster fuck. Cole had seen some messed up things in his day, but the scene before him took the cake. A stream of people fled through the front doors and others jumped from the first floor windows of the large grey compound. Then again, what had he expected when his squad gassed the place? After waiting for the fumes to clear, and most of the bodies to filter out, he ran toward the building, rain pelting his jacket. He ducked through the door and removed his gas mask taking a tentative breath to test the air around him. There was only a slight tingle in his throat. It would do. He didn’t plan on hanging out in the front area where the canister had crashed through the window anyway. His goal was to seek out the back rooms and find anyone still lingering inside. And bonus points if he found the cult’s leader, Jacob, before his commander did. If Jacob was guilty of even half the crimes they had him on, Cole wouldn’t mind punching the guy square in the jaw. Jacob was a certified whackjob. He claimed to be a spiritual healer, and had about forty people swallowing his bullshit. When the FBI learned this morning of his plans to lead his followers in a suicide mission, they’d moved fast, warrant be damned. So far, it appeared they’d made it in time. Cole adjusted the strap of his rifle and treaded along the hallway. He turned the corner, the lighting dim from the lack of windows, and listened for any sounds. Dead silence. Hearing nothing to indicate a threat, he entered the room on his right. A young woman was huddled in the corner of the bedroom. She sat slumped against the wall, knees hugged to her chest. Her breath came in quick shallow gasps. For a long second, Cole couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Something about this woman captivated his attention. Eyes, the color of emeralds, stared up at him in fear and confusion. Trembling hands hugged her legs tight to her chest. Unshed tears burned in that brilliant green gaze. Snapping out of his daze, Cole stepped closer. The woman flinched and shrank back against the wall. She was shaking uncontrollably but her eyes followed his movements. He scanned the bedroom, checking for other victims or threats, but found only several bunk beds, clothes strewn across the floor, and a crib in the corner. Once the room was secure, Cole lowered his gun. Procedure dictated he shout his command before taking action. But his gut told him a different tactic might be required. ‘What’s your name?’ he asked, gazing down at her petite form. ‘S-Savannah,’ she stammered, her voice raspy. He pulled in a deep lungful of air and crossed the room, his boots thudding against the tiled floor. She pressed back hard against the wall, watching him approach. He slung the rifle’s strap over his shoulder, letting the weapon hang free and lifted his hands—palms out, fingers splayed—facing her. ‘It’s okay. I’m here to help.’ She watched him with wide eyes that held a flicker of curiosity. Though she remained hunkered down, she lifted her chin as he approached. He considered helping her up, but he instinctively knew her hands would remain tightly locked in her lap. He had two choices: pick her up and carry her out, or win over her trust. Trust took time. Making a split second decision, he crouched down and lifted her, securing one arm behind her knees, the other around her waist. A startled gasp escaped her throat, but as soon as Savannah was in his arms her body relaxed. She rested her head against his shoulder and let out a deep sigh, as if she’d been carrying around some great burden and was suddenly free now that she was in his arms. She laced her fingers behind his neck and buried her face in his chest, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Momentarily stunned by her warm body wrapped around his, it took him a moment to get his feet moving. He carried her through the building, catching surprised glances from the other agents as he held her tightly to his chest, crossing through the emptying rooms. She sank into him, into his protection and that measure of complete trust and surrender twisted something inside Cole, invoking a feeling he’d never encountered until now. ‘Found a girlfriend back there, Fletcher?’ one of the guys said, followed by a wave of laughter. Normally, he’d snap back a retort, but he couldn’t focus on much with her locked in his embrace. The fragrant waves of dark hair spilling over her shoulders, the soft curves of her body molding to his hard chest was more than a little distracting. When they entered the front room, Savannah finally spoke. ‘You can set me down now.’ Her breath was warm against his neck and it sent a tingling rush down his spine. He lowered her feet to the floor, suddenly finding himself reluctant to let her go. She looked at him and blinked twice, her mouth opening to draw in a shuddering breath. He felt just as speechless. Emotions he’d thought long dead stirred within him. She turned and strode toward the few people still left in the building—a small group of children lined up against the far wall, looking bewildered. It was no big shocker that a group of male agents were clueless as to what to do with the littlest victims. At least they had enough sense to bring them inside out of the rain while they waited for the vans to arrive. Savannah kneeled before the children and spoke to them in a hushed voice. Whatever she said had the power to calm them. Several of the older kids swiped at tears and fixed on brave faces. The littlest one, a toddler with blonde, curls crawled onto her lap. At first Cole had been solely focused on the mission—to capture Jacob—but now he wondered what would happen to the women and children. Well, mainly the young woman, Savannah. When the vans arrived, he watched her help the children fashion capes out of discarded blankets to shield them from the rain. Then she paraded them outside to the waiting vehicles. The unfamiliar sting of worry pierced his chest. This was the only home they knew, and it was now the center of an FBI investigation. They’d been literally cast out into the cold. He shook the thought away. Damn. He must be going soft. This was the same kind of thing he’d counseled junior agents on—never get emotionally involved in a case. It was a mind fuck waiting to happen. But watching Savannah walk away, her shapely backside and legs encased in a pair of jeans, damp hair hanging down her back, he knew better than to pretend he wasn’t affected. Damn it. As Cole stood in the doorway, the cold air snatched his breath away instantly, forcing him to pull the edges of his jacket tighter. He couldn’t help thinking about her lush, soft curves and how she’d felt in his arms. Wanting her was a powerful, primal need, an instinctive response, and one he hadn’t experienced in a long time. The difference was he’d never act on it. Hell, he was willing to bet he’d never even see her again. And that was for the best. Chapter 2 (#u68d3a775-dd4c-5f22-ac22-5c068d345d2b) Cole didn’t count on the woman appearing in his dreams. For the past several nights, she’d played a starring role. Though each dream contained a different scenario, they were all a variation of the actual take-down. Only in his dreams he’d spoken to her, made her laugh. He’d calmed her worries, and eased that little line that creased her forehead. Then he’d leaned in close to inhale the scent of her hair, carried her to his SUV, and tucked her safely inside. He woke each morning cursing himself out. He didn’t get to keep her. But damn if his subconscious knew it, uncooperative prick that it was. Now in the office, sitting at his desk with the sunlight streaming through the cheap blinds, dotting his computer screen with flecks of light, Cole scrubbed a hand across his stubbly jaw. The case that had consumed much of his time over the past month had come to an unsatisfying conclusion. Jacob had been found dead in an out-building adjacent to the compound, of an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound. From the Bureau’s standpoint, the case was all but closed. But Cole had spent the last several days milling through the mountains of files they’d accumulated on the group, making sure everything was done correctly He kept finding himself stuck on details that might somehow relate to Savannah. Then he gave up trying to be sly, and read every single note they had on her. She was nineteen and had joined the group with her mother when she was just seven years old. Her mother, believed to have been one of Jacob’s lovers, passed away when Savannah was fifteen. Savannah had been living with the group in the compound just outside of Dallas ever since. That God damn cult was all she’d ever known. Cole knew that all of the children, fourteen of them under the age of eighteen, had been taken into Child Protective Services. He had no idea what would become of those of legal age. He supposed once they were brought in for questioning and their statements taken, many of them would be free to go. Gulping weak coffee from a paper cup, it took him a moment to realize his boss was standing in front of his desk. ‘You look like shit, Fletcher.’ Cole didn’t bother explaining he hadn’t been sleeping well, preferring not to get in a conversation about exactly why that was the mysterious girl he’d rescued from the compound still clouding his thoughts even in his sleep—knowing that excuse wouldn’t go over well with Norman. Cole rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. ‘Thanks,’ he muttered. ‘You need a break, Cole. You’ve been working eighty-hour weeks nonstop the past few months. Now that this case is over, I’m not assigning you to another until you take some time off.’ ‘What are you talking about, a leave of absence?’ Cole had heard of other guys messing up and getting forced into a leave, if only to make an example of them. But as far as he knew, he hadn’t fucked anything up, at least not lately, and he was in line for a promotion at his next review cycle. ‘No, like a vacation.’ Norm’s stern gaze met Cole’s confused one. ‘You’ve heard of a vacation, right?’ Cole almost laughed, and would have, had he not been pissed at where this conversation was headed. It was the exact same conversation he’d had with his meddling older sister, Marissa, just a few days before. When she’d stopped by last weekend and seen the dark circles under his eyes, she’d challenged him on when he’d last taken time off. The truth was he’d never purposefully taken time off work. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself. The one and only time he’d taken some personal days was the standard bereavement leave when his parents were killed six years ago. Norm was still staring down at him expectantly. ‘I checked with HR, and they told me you’ve never taken a single vacation day in six years with the Bureau.’ No shit. And for good reason. He’d be bored as hell in two hours. ‘And what exactly do you expect me to do?’ ‘How the hell should I know? Do whatever it is people do when they have time off work.’ ‘Thanks, but I’m actually good. Just give me another case, Norm.’ ‘This is non-negotiable.’ He wasn’t averse to taking on Norm, but he wasn’t stupid enough to argue with him when that vein in his forehead was throbbing. Cole stood, knowing it’d be pointless to press the issue, and scooped up the files from his desk. He’d just work from home. Norm cracked a sideways grin and pulled the files from his hands. ‘No. No bringing work home. Get a massage, go to the fucking Bahamas; I don’t care what you do, as long as you take a break. Don’t come back until Monday. Next Monday,’ he clarified. Fuck. A week off of work with nothing to do? He’d go insane. Unless… No, he knew he shouldn’t check up on Savannah, but once the idea had planted itself firmly in his mind, he knew it’d be damn near impossible to shake. Cole spent the first two days of his vacation much like he spent every other weekend: catching up on sleep, hitting the gym, grabbing some takeout and parking it on the couch with a beer and flipping aimlessly through the TV channels. But by the time Monday morning rolled around, he knew he was in over his head. There was no way he’d survive another week of this shit. He was already bored out of his mind, and it was day one of his Bureau-enforced vacation. Damn Norm. Thoughts of Savannah continued to occupy his mind, and he found himself wondering where she was and if she was doing okay. After his third cup of coffee, he was jittery and pacing. Damn, he’d be crawling the walls of his condo by noon if he didn’t get out and do something. Cole made a snap decision, knowing he wouldn’t be able to let the thoughts of Savannah go. Not until he knew she was okay. It was simple curiosity, nothing more. Plus, it’d give him something to do to occupy his time. A win all round. He’d do a simple stakeout, no big deal. After a quick phone call to another agent that morning, he had a good idea where they’d taken her. The safe house. She was taken to the only nearby facility with an opening—a transitional housing development on the shady side of town. Something about it didn’t sit right with him. She was too innocent and good-looking to be somewhere like that. He would stakeout the house, assuming she was still there. Since the file hadn’t mentioned any other family, he was betting she was. Once he saw her with his own eyes, and confirmed she was safe and doing well, he would let it go. Chapter 3 (#u68d3a775-dd4c-5f22-ac22-5c068d345d2b) Fall was Savannah’s favorite time of year. The brutal heat of the Texas summer had dissipated and left the air around her pleasantly warm, and more comfortable than stifling. She was taking her third walk of the day. With nothing to do other than sit and worry over the kids, she preferred to be outside, moving, rather than sitting in the grungy halfway house. She rounded the corner of the block she’d grown familiar with over the past several days, surprised she hadn’t worn a path into the sidewalk by now. There was a small park across the street. She considered stopping to watch the children playing, but kept going, knowing it would only dredge up memories that would make her cry. She couldn’t quite believe things had ended the way they did. She felt conflicted being away from the compound, empty in a weird way. It was all she knew, but she’d dreamed of leaving the overly strict compound for the last few years. She’d become disillusioned with their whole way of life after her mother passed away four years ago. But there were certain things, and people, she’d miss. She already missed the bustle of activity, always having someone to talk to. She thought of Dillon, the only other person her age, and wondered where he was. When the sun began to sink lower in the sky, she resigned herself to spending another night at the house. She’d come to despise it for no other reason than how alone she felt there. She turned right at the corner, surprised that she didn’t recognize her surroundings. She’d been so lost in thought, and over-confident in her ability to navigate, that she hadn’t paid attention to where she’d wandered. She turned in a circle, searching out a landmark, or street sign she’d recognize; but unfortunately it did little good. She was lost. She took a deep breath and willed herself to stay calm. But the fa?ade lasted about two seconds. She had no one to call and didn’t even know the address of the house. She was completely and utterly alone. After growing up in a household with a dozen different women mothering her, the realization was a stark one. She’d never been on her own. And she was already failing at it. Savannah wiped away the tears that had begun to escape her eyes. What would she do if couldn’t find the house again? The street had started with an L, hadn’t it? She supposed she could go into a nearby shop and ask if they knew of a halfway house close by. She’d probably sound like a crazy person, but what other options did she have? She pulled in a deep breath, regaining some composure, and looked through the window of a convenience store. The guy at the counter met her eyes, then stared straight at her boobs. Nope. Not going in there. Gaze cast down, she kept walking. With the thud of her shoes against the sidewalk and the pounding rhythm of her heart guiding her, Savannah continued on. The purr of a car engine lingered behind her. Not passing. Shoot. This wasn’t a great part of town to be alone in. What had she been thinking? So she quickened her stride, but the car kept pace. A large black SUV stopped alongside her. The dark tinted window lowered. A rush of panic washed over her, and tears sprang to her eyes. ‘Savannah?’ The rough male voice knew her name. She stumbled to a halt and dared a glance in his direction. She was met with the concerned gaze of the FBI agent who had rescued her after the compound was raided. He was tall, and broad shouldered with dark hair, stubble dusting his jaw and his dark eyes were locked on hers. She ventured a step closer to his SUV. She didn’t know his name, or what he intended, but something in his dark gaze gripped the very depths of her, and she knew instinctively that she could trust him. At least she hoped she could. He hadn’t hurt her that night. His touch had been strong, but gentle. Summoning, her courage, she turned to face him. Cole couldn’t believe his luck, that he had quite literally spotted Savannah on the way to the safe house. Her face was streaked with tears and her eyes wild. Shit, she looked scared. Had someone done something to her? The thought drove him nuts. ‘Savannah?’ he repeated. Without waiting for her to respond, Cole slammed his gearshift into park and hopped out, crossing the front of the SUV to stand before her. He lifted her chin, inspecting her face and neck for marks, and gripped her upper arms to turn her in a circle, looking her over completely. She appeared unharmed, so he didn’t understand why she was crying. ‘What happened?’ She swallowed and looked down at the sidewalk between their feet. ‘Hey.’ He brushed her hand with his. ‘You remember me, right?’ She met his eyes and gave him a hesitant nod. ‘What’s your name?’ she asked, a nervous hitch in her voice. ‘Colby Fletcher.’ He offered her his hand, and she slipped her delicate fingers into his palm. ‘Colby,’ she repeated in barely a whisper. ‘You can call me Cole. Everyone else does. Or Fletcher, or Fletch. You know, whatever…’ She grinned, more with her eyes than her mouth. His babbling had apparently scored some points. ‘Now tell me what’s wrong,’ he pushed. He didn’t mean for it to come out as a command, but he needed to know what had happened to her, manners aside. ‘I went for a walk and got lost,’ she said simply. Cole nearly sagged in relief. Thank fuck. That, he could fix. God, if something had happened to her, he didn’t think he could’ve handled it. Not with the worry that’d been churning in his gut the last several days. ‘Come on, I can drive you back.’ He turned for the driver’s side again, but Savannah remained rooted to the sidewalk. He returned to the spot where she stood and spoke to her in hushed tones. ‘You can trust me, okay?’ Her eyes flashed to his. He’d forgotten how green they were. She squinted and blinked several times, as if she was deciding. It was cute. Without another word, Savannah opened the passenger door and climbed inside. Cole’s skin tingled, hyper-aware of just how close she was. She wore a pair of baggy jeans, torn at one knee and a long sleeved thermal tee, but the ill-fitting attire did nothing to temper the desire he felt. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, his hands itching to fold her body against his own. Shit, his libido was out of control when it came to this girl. Maybe he really did need a vacation. Somewhere with sand and lots of women in bikinis. Somewhere the hell away from Savannah. Neither spoke during the short ride back to the halfway house. Cole stopped in front of the two-story, pale gray house flaking in paint. Both his and Savannah’s attention was captured by a group of guys sitting on the wide front porch, arguing loudly. Savannah fiddled nervously with the door handle, but made no move to exit the car. ‘Listen, I don’t have to take you back right away…we could grab a cup of coffee.’ Relief washed over her face. ‘Yes.’ There was no way he was sending her back inside that house just yet. Over steaming mugs of coffee at a nearby caf?, Cole attempted small talk, but mostly they sat in comfortable silence. Savannah seemed distracted and somber. He wondered if she was counting down the minutes until she had to go back to that house, and dreading it just as much as he was. ‘Do you have any family you can stay with?’ he asked finally. A deep searing gaze communicated her need. Cole’s worst assumptions were proven correct — she was all alone. She swallowed and shook her head. ‘My mom passed away when I was fifteen, and I never met my father. I suppose I could find one of the women from Jacob’s group, but I don’t know…’ ‘Are you hungry? Have you eaten? We could get you something.’ Cole couldn’t stop himself from peppering her with questions. She kept her gaze cast down and shook her head. ‘I’m fine.’ Savannah sat quietly in her seat, her thin fingers wound tightly around the coffee mug. Cole wished there was something more he could do for her. He wasn’t sure what to say, how to help, so he sat silently across from her sipping his coffee. By the time they reached the house again, darkness had blanketed the sky. Cole shifted into park, turning off the engine. ‘I’ll walk you inside.’ The house itself was large, but poorly maintained. The furniture was old and unmatched, the beige carpet stained and threadbare. Cole didn’t see much of the first floor, beyond a dingy living room, before she led him upstairs. There were several closed doors along the long hallway. Savannah stopped at the second door on the right. The key fumbled between her fingers, clanking against the wooden door. After three failed attempts to unlock it, Cole removed it from her trembling hand, and deftly opened the door. The first thing he noticed was the odor—the room smelled like wet gym socks. Savannah flipped on the light and took several steps into the room. A single narrow cot on the floor and a chair in the corner containing stray articles of clothing were the only furnishings. Fuck. He couldn’t just leave her here, could he? Savannah stepped in closer, wrapping her arms around his waist and tucking her head under his chin. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. Her eagerness at physical contact surprised him, but he only hesitated a moment before wrapping his arms around her. Cole patted her back, hating that his attempts at soothing her were clumsy and awkward. He’d never been good at this kind of thing: emotions, touchy-feely crap. Maybe his presence would be enough to calm her. And although he didn’t know how to show it, he felt protective. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. If anyone so much as looked at her the wrong way, Cole would knock them on their ass. He held her for several long minutes until the beating of her heart slowed to normal, and she backed out of his arms. Their eyes flashed to one another’s at the sounds of an argument going on in the next room. Angry voices carried through the thin walls. Another argument. Cole and Savannah exchanged glances. ‘Are you sure you’ll be okay?’ She nodded, looking solemn. ‘Here’s my card.’ He fished the card from his wallet and placed it in her trembling hand. ‘Call me if you need anything.’ Savannah remained silent, glancing at the card, running her thumb along the raised lettering. ‘Lock your door when I leave, okay?’ She nodded tightly, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, as if there was something more she wanted to say, but stopped herself. Cole left reluctantly He knew it was getting late, and as much as it pained him to leave her, he couldn’t put it off any longer. He was sure he was crossing some sort of professional line even being here. He waited outside the door until he heard the lock slide into place, the sound not nearly as reassuring as he would have hoped. Once he was outside, Cole took a deep breath and scrubbed his hands across his face. The cooling blast of autumn air filled his lungs, but did nothing to return him to his senses. He climbed inside his truck and gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white, trying to will himself to start the engine and drive away from her. The lock on her door did little to calm her nerves. The deep, raspy voices of her male neighbors sent shivers down her spine. She huddled in closer to the thin, scratchy blanket. The unfamiliar sounds and smells of the house left her on edge and shaking. The brief interlude with Cole had helped, but now that she was back in the bleak reality of the tiny room again, an impending panic attack throbbed in her chest. Growing up the way she had, listening to Jacob’s crazy rants about sex being dirty and diseased, and men of the world being fueled by only their lust, made her hyper-aware of the sounds in the rooms next to her. Their loud voices, crude glances, and grubby hands. Jacob constantly drilled into her that men would only want her for one thing. Realization struck. She was alone. Totally and completely alone. Panic crept in to the edges of her brain, but she fought it, holding the darkness at bay. Just barely. Think Savannah. If she could go on after losing her mom, she could survive this, too. Didn’t have much choice. Her muscles trembled with the effort of lying still against the hard cot. She curled into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest, hoping it would sooth her. A loud whack against the wall made her jump. Savannah sat up in bed as the pain in her chest built. She drew a slow shaky breath and said a silent prayer. She tried not to break down again, but before she knew it, hot tears were freely streaming down her cheeks and she was wishing that Cole hadn’t left. The only times she’d felt safe during the past week of this ordeal was when he was near. She grabbed his card from the window sill and clutched it, crushing it to her heart. She wished she was stronger, that she didn’t break down so easily. But after another loud thump against the wall, she let out a whimper and clamored under the blankets. She glanced at the door knob, the deadbolt still vertical, needing reassurance that the door was still locked. She didn’t want to leave the safety of her bedroom—and wouldn’t have—had it not been for her insistent bladder urging her on. There were two bathrooms on the second floor, one was for women, the other for men. She’d come to learn over the past few days, tenants used whichever was closest, and since she had the bad fortune of being surrounded on both sides by male tenants, she knew the so-called ladies room was filthy and reeked of urine. The other bathroom was probably no better. Still clutching Cole’s card, Savannah cracked open the door and peeked both ways before tiptoeing towards the bathroom. She made sure the toilet seat was clean before she relieved herself. As she stood washing her hands in the sink, she startled at the pale haunted-looking girl watching her from the mirror before realizing it was her own reflection. The bulb above her flickered then died. Darkness made her head swim. She sucked in a deep breath and held it as her hands fumbled blindly in front of her, searching out the door. She’d hated the dark. Always had. Her hands still flailing in front of her, she begged herself not to panic. Savannah swayed on her feet, blinking wildly against the darkness. Before she knew what was happening, she crashed against the wall, and felt a sharp blow ache through the back of her skull as she collapsed to the ground. Chapter 4 (#u68d3a775-dd4c-5f22-ac22-5c068d345d2b) Cole pulled into his underground parking garage just as the storm lit up the sky. An angry crack of lightning pierced the night, followed by a low rumble of thunder. It had been steadily raining his entire drive home, but the storm seemed to double its force within a matter of seconds, sheets of water pouring from the sky. He was maneuvering into his assigned parking space when the call came in. His phone had been eerily silent all weekend, not even Marissa had been in touch. And at this late hour on Sunday, he didn’t know who it could be. Fishing the phone from his center console, he noted the Dallas area code, but didn’t recognize the number. He couldn’t understand her at first, her voice was high with tension, and barely above a whisper, but he soon realized it was Savannah. And she was asking him to come back. He pulled a u-turn and gunned the engine before her words even registered. Keeping her on the line as he drove, he wanted to bombard her with questions, to find out if something had happened, but he resisted. Even as all that flashed through his mind, he’d found himself calming her, saying he would be right there, and flooring the gas pedal to get back to her. After ending the call, he slammed a fist against the dash. Damn, he shouldn’t have left her at that place. But what choice did he have? He thumbed the steering wheel, waiting for the light to change. He had to get her out of that house; probably check her into a hotel for the night. That would be the right thing to do, yet he knew with absolute certainty what he really wanted to do. He wanted to bring her home with him, where he could have her under the same roof and ensure she was safe. When Cole arrived, he pressed the buzzer at the front door for the after-hours entrance. He was greeted by an older man, the night guard, he presumed. ‘Where’s Savannah?’ He stormed past the man, following the sounds of soft sobs toward the back of the house. Entering an office, he found an older woman seated behind a desk, and Savannah crumpled in a ball on the chair across from her. ‘Savannah,’ his voice rasped. She looked up and Cole nearly staggered a step back. Christ. It looked like someone had used her face as a punching bag. Her swollen and busted lip was encrusted with blood and her left eye was already darkening with a bruise. When she met his eyes she let out a soft sigh, seemingly comforted by his presence. ‘Shh. I’m here.’ He weaved his fingers under her hair to cradle the back of her neck. Then he turned his attention to the woman behind the desk. ‘What the hell happened here?’ ‘Have a seat, Mr.….?’ ‘Cole Fletcher.’ He took the chair next to Savannah. She crawled into his lap, burying her face in his neck as little sobs racked her chest. His arms, working of their own accord, wound themselves around Savannah and shifted her to a more comfortable position on his lap. Once Savannah was settled, his training kicked in and he began firing questions at the facility coordinator. She explained they’d briefly lost power in the storm, and when they went upstairs to check and make sure everyone was secure, they found Savannah unconscious on the bathroom floor, where she’d apparently fainted and smacked her head on the porcelain sink on her way down. His fingers automatically threaded into her hair, smoothing the bump he found on the back of her head. The coordinator seemed unconcerned, like she’d dealt with these situations too many times. But he hadn’t, and neither had Savannah. Vacant eyes stared at the wall across from him. He was worried that shock was beginning to set in. He soothed a hand up and down her back, not quite sure what to do to comfort her. The woman behind the desk looked over the top of her glasses, mouth twisted into a disapproving frown. Cole could tell the woman was wondering exactly what kind of relationship he shared with Savannah. His tone and questions were professional, yet Savannah’s body currently wrapped around his said it was something else entirely. He chose not to identify himself as an agent, and let the woman think what she wanted. Once in situated in his lap, Savannah’s breathing returned to normal, and the steady thump of her heartbeat against his chest told him she was recovering. She was alright. Thank fucking God. He didn’t understand why his presence calmed her – not like he had a lot to offer – but he wasn’t about to question it. Not when she was so fragile. The woman held up a hand. ‘Listen, I know this isn’t the Ritz, but if she wants to stay here, she can. If she wants to leave, fine. It’s up to her.’ Savannah lifted her head from his chest and met Cole’s eyes. ‘Can you take me away from here?’ She couldn’t understand what she was asking for. Of course Cole wanted to take her far away from this place, from the first time he’d laid eyes on the rundown house. But protocol and not crossing professional boundaries stirred in the back of his head. He resisted the urge to smooth the tangled strands of hair from her face, but kept his arms locked around her middle. Savannah’s bloodied lip, swollen face, and the exhaustion he could read on her features told him now might not be the time to argue. ‘Okay. We can go.’ Tomorrow they’d figure everything out. He lifted Savannah from the chair and held her like he had at the compound. And just as strong as before, the need to protect her flared up inside of him. Carrying her out into the night, Cole opened the passenger door and helped her inside. He reached across her to buckle her seat belt. When his hands brushed her ribs, she startled, sucking in a shaky breath. He should probably check her over for injuries, assuming that she’d likely sustained some bumps and bruises, but his first priority was getting her out of here. She was silent on the drive to his condo, not even asking where they were going. She implicitly trusted him. The feeling was heady. He kept the radio low, he left Savannah to her thoughts, looking out the window as he drove. He snuck glances her way, wondering what she could possibly be thinking about. The awkward silence dug into his brain like a dripping faucet. ‘This your first time in the city?’ he asked. Savannah kept her eyes on the passing buildings. ‘We didn’t leave the compound much.’ Of course. Stupid question. He tried again. ‘Does your head hurt? How about your ribs?’ She ran her fingers through her matted hair, checking the bump. ‘I think it’s okay now.’ At least she’d stopped crying. Nothing made him panic more than a woman crying. When he parked in his assigned parking space and turned off the engine, a hushed silence fell over them in the confined space. His heart rate ramped up in sudden awareness of her. The light, feminine scent that clung to her skin, her petite frame, and the overwhelming desire to protect her— he couldn’t deny the possessive ache that raced through his system. ‘Why did you pass out, Savannah?’ She swallowed heavily. ‘That place scared me. There were too many people…too many strange men…’ He nodded. It wasn’t lost on him that he was a strange man to her, yet here she was alone with him too. ‘This is where I live,’ he said finally. Her eyes widened. ‘You brought me home with you?’ ‘Is that okay?’ She studied him, her expression weary and unsure and squirmed in her seat. ‘I’m sorry; I didn’t know where else to take you. Come inside, and if you decide not to stay, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.’ Seemingly satisfied, she climbed from the car. Chapter 5 (#u68d3a775-dd4c-5f22-ac22-5c068d345d2b) Savannah insisted she could walk, but Cole secured an arm around her waist and helped her inside. He tossed his keys onto the breakfast bar, retaining his hold on her. He knew he shouldn’t keep her here. God, Norm and the guys would have a fucking field day with this one. Sure, he brought his work home most nights, but this was a hell of a lot different. She could sleep in his guest room tonight, and then he’d have to take her to another safe house in the morning. For now, he just wanted her to feel safe. If he needed to install a bigger lock on her bedroom door to help her feel safe, so be it. They could pick up some pepper spray too. Cole took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. The panic in her voice when she called had him wondering what exactly had happened once he left, but he didn’t want to push her. He had a good enough idea from the facility coordinator. She’d likely panicked at the thought of being alone. If the living conditions of the compound were any indication, she’d grown up surrounded by people at all times. He had half a mind to tuck Savannah safely into his bed and forget protocol. Her eyes darted around his condo, seeming to take in her surroundings. ‘Come on.’ He guided her down the hall. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up.’ He passed by the guest bath, knowing it wasn’t stocked with what he needed. At his bedroom door, she paused briefly, her feet stopping at the threshold, her eyes trained on the massive bed. ‘It’s okay,’ he urged. ‘We’re just going into the master bath.’ Her eyes drifted to the open door across the room, and she gave a nod, allowing him to urge her forward. The muscles in her face tensed, but her feet started moving again. He flipped on the light, and cursed his lack of cleanliness. Various bottles and jars littered the counter — shaving cream, aftershave, deodorant, toothpaste — everything within his grasp since he got ready for work on autopilot. He cleared a spot on the counter by sweeping everything into a drawer and then lifted Savannah onto the counter in front of him. He wet a washcloth and carefully washed her face, wiping away the traces of dried blood. Her breasts rose and fell with each shallow breath, and her wide green eyes watched his every move. They were inquisitive and bright with determination. He found himself drawn to her, wanting to discover all he could about the mysterious, beautiful girl who had grown up in a cult. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms in an effort to calm herself and regain some control over the situation. He could sense the desperation she felt, her outlook suddenly seeming quite bleak. He struggled to find words to soothe her, to reassure her, but came up short and instead just silently treated her injuries as best he could. Once she was clean, he dabbed the cut above her eye with a cotton swab covered in ointment. ‘How do you know how to do this?’ she asked. His eyes flicked to hers. They were so close that he could lean in and kiss her. ‘Hmm? Oh, I’ve certainly been knocked around before. It’s no big deal. You’ll be good as new in a few days.’ She frowned. ‘Knocked around? Because your job is dangerous?’ He recapped the ointment and considered her question. ‘Yes, sometimes. Other times not. But actually I was thinking about my teen years. I was a bit of a trouble maker. My parents sent me to military school my last two years of high school.’ ‘Oh.’ Her eyes were big and inquisitive, as if she wanted to ask more, but instead she looked down at her hands. ‘How old are you now?’ ‘Twenty-seven,’ he answered. Too old for you. His eyes caught their reflection in the mirror and the serious expression in his features distracted him. His brow was knotted in concentration, and his mouth a tight line. He did his best to relax the tense set of his shoulders, knowing he needed to be calm if he wanted Savannah to relax too. A few heartbeats later she visibly relaxed, her breathing smoothing out, and her hands uncurling in her lap. Her features were entirely feminine, from her long dark hair that curled at the ends, to her almond-shaped eyes fringed in dark lashes, to her smooth, soft skin. Savannah was a natural beauty. Catching his own reflection in the mirror, Cole, in contrast, was all male. His jaw was shadowed in dark stubble and his body lean and sculpted with muscle, which he worked hard to maintain. Compared to Savannah, he was hard plains and jagged edges, all except for his full sensuous mouth. More than one ex-girlfriend had complimented his lips, and what he could do with his mouth. When he was with a woman, he used every weapon in his seduction arsenal — his mouth, tongue, hands, even his strength—often liking the feel of power, the crude masculinity of picking up a woman and holding her weight as he fucked her. It had been several months though since he’d taken a lover, and his body was growing restless with pent-up desire. Once Savannah was cleaned up, Cole stepped back and met her eyes. They were still swimming with tears and her breathing was little more than shallow gasps for air. He could tell that the slightest thing would set her off again. Shit. So much for relaxing. Savannah was an absolute mess. To be expected. She’d probably been through hell and back these past several days, and getting bruised up earlier had sent her over the edge. A girl like Savannah, who’d grown up so sheltered with such a strange upbringing, had no defenses to protect herself from the pure chaos this world dished up. He knew from the FBI files that the women and children were rarely seen outside the compound. Cole, on the other hand, was hardened, bitter, and certainly not delusional enough to believe in happily-ever-after. He’d seen too much working for the Bureau the past six years, and experienced pain firsthand when his parents were hit and killed by a meth addict who was drunk and high at the time of the accident. Still, he felt for Savannah, felt sorry for her in a way. She wasn’t the type to fare well on her own, that was obvious. He lifted her chin and rubbed a slow circle against her jaw. ‘I’ve got you. It’s going to okay.’ She gave a heavy nod and somber eyes met his. ‘So what happens now?’ Cole could read the apprehension on her face. The honest truth was, he didn’t know what happened next, but he knew one thing was certain; he wasn’t taking her back to that house. They both needed some sleep, and they would figure the rest out later. ‘Now we sleep. Come on, I’ll show you around.’ He helped her from the counter, and led her through the condo, giving her a brief tour. He guided Savannah to the living room and encouraged her to sit on the sofa. He was about to turn and head for the kitchen to get her some water and pain reliever, but she silently took his hand and held it in her own, her eyes pleading with him to stay. He sat down beside her and she wordlessly lowered her head to rest against his thigh, nestling herself into him. Cole couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He dared not move with her head resting on his denim clad thigh. She bent her legs up onto the couch beside her, curling into the fetal position, and closed her eyes. He didn’t know what to do with his hands and settled for fisting one beside him, and placed the other carefully on Savannah’s shoulder. He let her sleep, unwilling to rustle her from the spot she’d claimed. When he woke a short time later, it took him a moment to realize who the warm body pressed against him belonged to. Savannah. He lifted his head and surveyed his body, and in turn hers. They had shifted in sleep so that he was stretched out on his back, and she was lying half on him, and half on the couch. Savannah woke when he moved and their eyes flicked to each other’s. He mumbled an apology and disentangled himself from her grip. He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. He’d never felt so out of place in his own house. The rumble of Savannah’s stomach made him smile and broke some of the tension. She clapped a hand over her belly. ‘Are you hungry?’ He chuckled. ‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘Come on. Let’s see what we can rustle up in the kitchen.’ He led her into the large kitchen at the front of his condo. ‘I have to warn you though, I don’t cook.’ ‘I do.’ Her hand on his forearm stopped him, and she motioned for him to take a seat at a stool tucked under the kitchen island. ‘Let me.’ ‘Are you sure you’re up for that?’ Cole questioned. ‘It’ll help me feel better, more normal. I used to cook all the time at the compound.’ Cole relented, sinking onto the seat. The time blinked at him from the clock on the microwave. It was three in the morning. He suddenly found himself thankful that he didn’t have to go to work in a few hours, though given the hour, he wasn’t as tired as he expected. He watched Savannah move about his kitchen, surveying the sad contents of his fridge, removing items from the pantry and cabinets as she went. ‘Sorry I don’t have much.’ ‘You have eggs,’ she said, placing the carton on the counter. He frowned, not able to recall the last time he went grocery shopping. ‘You might want to check the expiration date on those.’ She lifted the carton to read the date printed on the bottom. ‘Hmm. We don’t have eggs.’ She pulled a box from the pantry. ‘Pasta then.’ It didn’t escape his notice that she’d said we, implying it was the two of them together against all the bullshit they’d suffered so far. He didn’t know what to make of that, but nodded. ‘Fine.’ She was holding up surprisingly well, given the craziness of the situation. She dumped an entire package of penne pasta into a pot of boiling, salted water. Cole watched her movements, and decided he liked having her in his kitchen. A satisfied little smile tugged at her lips, and she moved about effortlessly. Only once they were seated in the small breakfast nook, nibbling on pasta with a rich sauce she made from milk, butter and parmesan cheese, did he venture to ask about her past. ‘Can I ask you a few questions about the compound…and how you grew up?’ He knew some of the details from reading the files on the case, but he wanted to hear the story in Savannah’s own words. She nodded reluctantly. Her eyes were skittish—looking anywhere but at him. ‘You just let me know if there’s anything you’re not comfortable answering. And we won’t talk about it.’ He didn’t intend to push her too far tonight. She’d been through enough, but he figured if she was going to be staying in his home, there was some basic information he’d need to know, if only to make sure she felt as comfortable as possible. ‘What was it like growing up there?’ She took a deep breath and began reiterating some of what he’d read in the case files. Jacob wanted to create a perfect community: they grew their own food, sold goods at farmer’s markets, and were entirely self-contained. He taught them that the outside world was a dangerous place, and that people were dirty and couldn’t be trusted. He taught them that germs and diseases spread from sexual contact would eventually kill off most of the population and they wouldn’t be able to procreate, so Jacob’s followers needed to separate themselves to live cleanly. ‘How did your mother get involved?’ Cole asked. Savannah folded her hands in her lap. ‘She fell for him. He was a charmer, a smoother talker, confident. Easily able to convince people to follow him.’ Cole knew that much from the information the Bureau had collected in the file. ‘He could be very persuasive. When he spoke, people listened,’ Savannah explained. ‘What about you; did you believe his teachings?’ She nodded. ‘At first. I didn’t know any different. But as I got older, I began to wonder. I had this urge to see for myself; it nagged at me sometimes.’ Finding her plate empty, Cole served up another helping of pasta for Savannah before urging her to continue. She stabbed a forkful of noodles, looking lost in thought. ‘Most of all, I just wanted to go to school. Jacob couldn’t understand it. He tried to convince me it wasn’t safe. Boys out there…’ she stopped suddenly, her eyes dropping to her plate. ‘What? You can tell me.’ ‘He said the boys would only want one thing from me — to get in my panties.’ Had anyone been in her panties? And why did that thought make him want to punch someone? He had no right — no claim to her — yet he couldn’t help the possessive streak that surged inside him. ‘Okay. So I take it you didn’t go to school?’ ‘No. But I refused to relent and finally convinced Jacob to hire a tutor for me, so I could get my high school diploma. We met at the local library twice a week for the last year. I was one of the few given permission to leave the compound.’ Wow. He’d been right about her determination. They ate in silence for several minutes. Cole didn’t want to push her too fast, he was happy that she was comfortable talking to him at all. ‘This is delicious, by the way.’ He stabbed a forkful of pasta and managed another bite, though he was stuffed four bites ago. He had a healthy appetite, but Savannah had made enough to feed an army — if the still full platter of pasta on the table between them was any indication. ‘You obviously know a lot about me,’ Savanna said, twirling a strand of long hair around her finger. ‘But if I’m going to stay here, shouldn’t I know more about you?’ He shrugged. ‘What do you want to know?’ She thought about it for a moment, continuing to play with her hair. Cole’s attention was pulled from her brilliant green eyes to her mouth and the way she absently toyed with stray lock of hair. ‘No wife? No girlfriend?’ ‘It’s just me.’ ‘How come?’ He thought about how to respond, not about why — he didn’t want the responsibility, the heartache that came with loss of a loved one ever again. But he took his time, considering which answer to give her. ‘It’s the way I like it.’ Savannah frowned slightly. ‘Doesn’t that get lonely? What about your family? Are they nearby?’ Cole remained quiet, watching the way her hand stilled its movements when she grew unsure of herself, wondering if she’d overstepped a boundary with that question. ‘That’s another thing you and I have in common.’ Her eyes searched his, trying to understand. ‘Your parents…’ ‘They’re gone. Have been for a few years now. It’s just my sister Marissa and me. She’s three years older and a pain in the ass,’ he added, hoping to add some levity back into the moment which had suddenly grown heavier than he’d bargained for. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, her eyes never wavering from his. Realization sparked between them and their gazes remained locked together. Her eyes softened and prodded his dark stare until they were no longer strangers, but two people connecting from a shared loss that wounded so deeply, it never quite healed. He took a slow, shaky breath. This wasn’t part of the deal. He couldn’t be getting soft now. Just because he’d brought his work home, so to speak, didn’t mean it was okay for him to get all mushy. Christ, what came next? Crying on each other’s shoulders? Knitting a God damn blanket. No fucking way. He’d do what he had to do to help Savannah. He wasn’t okay with seeing a woman suffer. That was all this was. He would not get emotionally involved. Couldn’t. Not again. He had a cabinet full of prescription meds that were the result of him getting involved in something he shouldn’t have once before. ‘Thanks,’ he bit out, more than ready to change the topic. The remnants of food between them had grown cold, and Savannah looked positively exhausted. She sat slumped in her chair, her head leaning in her hand. ‘Come on, let’s get you to bed.’ He placed their dishes in the sink and guided Savannah to the guest room. Cole’s home wasn’t what Savannah had expected. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d been expecting, but the large, modern third-floor loft with floor to ceiling windows and furniture with sleek, clean lines was unanticipated. She was too exhausted to explore, being overtired and fighting off a panic attack would do that to you, but she dutifully followed behind Cole, trying her best to listen as he pointed out things out to her. The small breakfast nook opened to a large living room with an espresso colored sectional sofa facing a large flat screen TV. She’d already grown to love the large spotless kitchen, with its stainless steel appliances and rustic butcher-block island, even if the sight of it initially caused a pang of sadness to hit her chest. Thinking of cooking made her think of the compound, which made her think of the children. She worried about where they were now, and if they were being well cared for. Especially little Britta. The five year old girl was so smart and so tough, the toughest little girl she knew, and yet she looked so sad when she was loaded into the van with the other children. She hoped Britta was okay. Wished she could find her… But she’d put that out of her mind as she had worked, whipping up a basic recipe for fettuccine alfredo. She couldn’t say she’d ever made that particular dish at three in the morning, but her options had been limited with such a poorly stocked kitchen. She found herself wondering who took care of Cole, and thought it unusual that he wasn’t married. He was in his late-twenties, he was kind and attractive. But just as quickly as the thoughts had entered her head, she’d pushed them away. She had no business wondering about his love life. She followed Cole down the hallway, where he pointed out a large marble-floored guest bathroom and his bedroom, which she’d already seen, before stopping at another door just across from his. He cleared his throat. ‘This is the guest room.’ He gestured for her to enter. She stepped around him, entering the spacious room decorated in creams and whites. The large inviting bed in the center of the room drew her forward. When she pressed a hand into the center of the plush bed, there was no way she’d willing go back to sleeping on that hard, stained cot. The bed was outfitted in the softest blankets she’d ever felt. She toured the room, running her hand along the smooth curves of the dark wood dresser and then turned to face Cole. She wondered if she’d be allowed to stay. There was something about him — she sensed it from the first time she saw him at the compound. Though she probably should have feared him, she felt comforted by his presence. ‘You can, ah, sleep here.’ He rubbed a hand along the back of this neck. His bicep flexed, pulling against the T-shirt he wore. He had large, powerful muscles in his back, shoulders and arms, but somehow Savannah knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He didn’t strike her as the violent type. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured. She tried to imagine herself living in a place so nice, but it was too big and too empty to feel comfortable. She was accustomed to sleeping in a bunk room with other women and children, relaxing to the sounds of breathing or soft snores. But still, she appreciated his providing this room, where at least she would be safe. She’d already noted the door had its own lock. They stood facing each other, neither speaking, but each studying the other. Savannah shifted her weight, looking down at her baggy jeans and sweatshirt. She didn’t have a change of clothes, let alone pajamas or a toothbrush, but she wasn’t about to ask Cole for anything else. He’d been too kind already, and she didn’t want to wear out her welcome or cause him any objections to her staying. Savannah was still standing in the center of the guest room, her bare feet buried in the plush carpeting. Cole suddenly found himself grateful for his sister Marissa’s interior decorating help. He’d resisted it at first, but she’d slowly worn him down, reminding him that he might still be a bachelor, but he wasn’t twenty-two anymore, and he was making good money. She said it was time to live like a grown-up. So he’d gotten a new bedroom set for himself, or more accurately he went along with Marissa to the furniture store, and handed over his credit card once she’d picked everything out. She’d redecorated his place room by room, finishing with the guest room Savannah now stood in. He’d told Marissa it was a waste of money. This room had never held a guest in his three years of living here; it was where he kept his seldom used ironing board, luggage set and mountain bike. But now watching Savannah walk towards the bed and press her palm into the center of the fluffy comforter, he silently praised Marissa’s intervention, not that he’d ever admit that to her. ‘Wait right here. I’ll be back.’ Cole returned a moment later with a pair of his sweat pants and an old T-shirt, handing them to Savannah. ‘You can wear this if it helps.’ Savannah accepted the clothes gratefully, and Cole left the room so she could change. A few minutes later, he tapped on the door with his knuckles. ‘Are you decent?’ She opened the door and stood before him. The baggy clothes seemed to swallow her. ‘We’ll figure everything out in the morning. Just get some rest, okay?’ Savannah nodded, yawning sleepily. Cole watched her crawl into the bed, his chest tightening at the sight of her in his clothes, looking so small and helpless in the big bed. ‘Night,’ he uttered, his voice surprisingly tight. He was grateful he had a few days off to help Savannah figure things out. How he would use those days, he had no idea. Of course, he would have to go back to work soon, and he had his Sunday visits with Abbie—which he hoped Savannah didn’t need to know about. But one thing at a time. She was safe and warm in the guest bedroom, and that was good enough for now. Chapter 6 (#u68d3a775-dd4c-5f22-ac22-5c068d345d2b) When Cole woke the following morning, or afternoon as it were, it took him a moment to place the sounds coming from inside his apartment. Savannah. His heart did a little happy dance in his chest at the thought of finding her in his kitchen. He stretched and went to investigate. When he entered the kitchen, his bare feet thudding against the wood floor, Savannah looked up and froze like she’d been caught doing something wrong. ‘Hi,’ he offered, attempting to reassure her. Her features softened. ‘Hi.’ Cole scanned the mixing bowls and ingredients spread across his counters, and the island covered in a dusting of flour. ‘Did you sleep okay?’ Savannah’s eyes wandered the length of Cole’s bare chest and stopped at the trail of fine hair grazing his lower stomach and disappearing under his waistband. She cleared her throat and looked down at her hands. ‘Mmm hmm,’ she stammered. Cole bit his lip to keep from chuckling. His muscular physique always got positive reviews from the opposite sex. And he was surprised to see that even after all Savannah had been through, she still noticed him. He worked hard to keep in top physical shape, kick-boxing three times a week, lifting weights, and running the rest of the days. He glanced down at his naked chest and abs. His pants had slipped ever so slightly down on his hips, exposing his lower abdominals and the lines along his sides that formed a deep V at his hips. He tightened the drawstring, doubling the knot. Down boy. Now was not the time to get a hard on. He rarely wore anything to bed but had tugged on a pair of pajama pants last night just in case Savannah needed anything in the middle of the night. That way he wouldn’t have to fumble for his clothes in the darkness, or risk terrifying the poor girl with his naked manhood. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt; he found the material too damn restrictive. He preferred the feel of his satin sheets against his bare skin — it was the one comfort he allowed himself. ‘I’m making pancakes. I hope that’s okay,’ Savannah said quietly. A box of mix sat on the counter. ‘Of course that’s okay. Thank you.’ Cole crossed the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, stepping around her and noticing how unaccustomed he was to having someone in his space, though it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. ‘Sorry, I didn’t know how to operate that thing.’ Savannah eyed the coffee maker like it had personally offended her. ‘Come here, I’ll show you.’ Once Savannah had wiped her hands on a dish towel and sidled up next to Cole, he couldn’t resist guiding her in between himself and the counter, so she was closer to the coffee maker, he told himself. Savannah sucked in a breath at the contact, but didn’t protest, allowing him to maneuver her body as he pleased. He demonstrated how to add fresh beans to the grinder and then how to set the beans to roast, then brew. The coffee maker was fussier than he was used to, but it had been a gift from Marissa last Christmas, and now he was addicted to fresh roasted coffee beans. Neither of them moved away as the coffee began to drip into the waiting carafe. A sudden vision of lifting her hair off the back of her neck and leaning in to plant a kiss on her soft skin danced through his mind. He was just inches from pressing into her, grinding his hips into her ass. He felt his cock stir and knew their lesson was over. ‘Let’s eat,’ he grumbled. Savannah stood in stunned silence as he stalked from the kitchen. He grabbed a T-shirt and threw it on before sitting down at the breakfast bar. Savannah slid a stack of pancakes in front of him. ‘Thanks.’ He cast a quick glance up at her. He didn’t realize having this beautiful young woman in his home would affect him like this. He was a professional. He shouldn’t be affected by her. He watched her move through the apartment, bending at the waist to collect the pile of mail he’d left by his arm chair, shuffling into the kitchen to arrange it on the counter and biting her lip as she studied a spot on the counter before wiping it away. Her lips were full and pink and he found himself wondering what they’d taste like before quickly pushing the thought away. As she stood at the kitchen counter, Cole appraised her profile. Small but perky chest, dark hair curling around her shoulders, a flat stomach, and a nice shapely ass. He appreciated a fine ripe ass and getting that rounded backside in his palms played through his mind like a song on repeat, no matter how many times he reminded himself it wasn’t happening. The tiny cut on her lower lip had healed quickly, just the faintest line of pink visible if you were looking for it. Savannah looked up and met his eyes, her mouth dropping open in an unspoken question. He needed to stop staring at her mouth or she was going to get the wrong idea. He didn’t bring her here for any sinister purpose. He wasn’t expecting anything in return for letting her stay. He found his voice. ‘Come sit down and eat with me.’ Savannah obeyed, carrying an extra plate and set of silverware over the breakfast bar to join him. She helped herself to a few pancakes from the platter stacked high between them. Cole was glad to see that she didn’t seem overly self-conscious or shy. She cut her pancakes into little pieces but still hadn’t taken a bite. ‘How are you doing this morning?’ he asked, trying his best at playing a nurturing role, something new for him. She swallowed heavily and gazed over at him. ‘Is it stupid that I miss it there?’ The compound? He supposed it was all she knew. ‘No, I guess not. They were the only family you had.’ She nodded. ‘There are some things I won’t miss.’ He left her alone to her thoughts, fighting the urge to push her for details. He appreciated her personality — she didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with pointless chatter. She was more observer of the world than outright contributor, and he could relate. He approached most things with a healthy dose of suspicion, and relationships for him were no different. They were each still feeling each other out, each on guard, but for likely different reasons. She was a vulnerable shell-shocked girl in a stranger’s home, and he was a hardened FBI agent who’d experienced more than his fair share of loss. He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. Christ, what a pair. After a few seconds of quietly picking at her thumbnail, she asked, ‘Do you think anyone from the compound could find me here?’ He doubted that’d be possible. She was supposed to be at the halfway house. Though if someone was interested enough and started poking around, the facility coordinator may remember Cole and she could be tracked down through him, but why would anyone bother? ‘Why are you asking?’ ‘There was someone…’ ‘Someone what?’ She looked down, once again becoming fascinated with her thumbnail. ‘Answer me.’ He didn’t intend the brute force behind his voice. ‘Jacob’s son.’ Cole racked his brain. The file mentioned that Jacob had a twenty-one year old son, Dillon, but he hadn’t been living at the compound at the time of the raid. ‘Dillon.’ She nodded. ‘Is he dangerous?’ ‘No, nothing like that.’ She hesitated for a beat, but before Cole could probe again, she released a sigh and continued. Dillon had lived at the compound up until last year. He’d gone away to look for a better paying job, but swore he’d come back for her. Despite Savannah’s platonic-only feelings for him, he was convinced they’d get married someday. He brushed off her hesitations, telling her they were meant to be together and he was going to take care of her. Cole turned to her and took her hands, holding them in between his palms. ‘Listen. He’s not going to find you here. You’re safe. Okay?’ She nodded. ‘Okay.’ After breakfast Cole announced he was going to the grocery store. ‘Is there anything you’d like? You could make a list,’ he encouraged, sliding his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. ‘Oh no, you get what you like. I don’t want to be a pest.’ ‘Savannah, you’re not.’ His look of sincerity stopped any further arguments from her, but she didn’t provide him with a list. He didn’t want to press it, because even after setting a pad of paper and a pen on the counter, Savannah solemnly shook her head. He didn’t know if her refusal was because she really felt like she was overstepping her bounds, or if perhaps she couldn’t write; so he let it drop. At the grocery store his usual routine was to grab just the essentials and juggle everything in his arms. This time though, he wandered down each aisle and practically got one of everything, throwing things into the cart at will. He ventured to the carpeted section of the superstore where there were racks of clothing. Savannah probably needed a few essentials, but he didn’t know her size, or what she might like, so he kept walking. He stood in an aisle, looking at the plastic packages of underpants. But damn, buying her panties seemed too forward. He fled, feeling odd even standing in the aisle. He knew that if she stayed longer, they’d have to cross that bridge and get her more clothes, but not today. Not by himself. He’d have to bring her along next time so she could tell him her size. He didn’t allow lovers to stay over, so he didn’t have so much as a spare toothbrush in his guest bathroom, so he settled on picking up a toothbrush—something practical, yet still impersonal. He also tossed pink bottles of shampoo and conditioner into his cart before heading for the checkout lanes. When he got home Savannah was nowhere to be found. Her bedroom door was closed, so he went to work putting away all the groceries, finding that the cabinets were fuller than they had ever been. When Savannah emerged fifteen minutes later, showered, and once again dressed in the sweats and T-shirt he’d given her last night, he regretted not buying her any clothes. He wondered if she even had panties or a bra under them. He watched her move towards the kitchen and peek inside the cabinets and fridge. ‘How’d I do?’ he asked, coming up behind her, but bracing himself against the island to keep a physical barrier between them. ‘Quite well. I can make lasagna, pot pie, do some baking. This is perfect.’ Cole smiled, glad that he had pleased her. ‘I got these for you too.’ He pushed the toothbrush, shampoo and conditioner toward her. Savannah’s eyes lit up as she took the bottles in her hands. ‘Thank you.’ You would have thought he’d given her some elaborate gift. Sure, he splurged a little and bought a brand more expensive than his own cheap shampoo, but he figured she deserved some basic comforts right now. Her whole life had just been turned upside down. Savannah watched Cole from the corner of her eye, trying to figure out his motivation. He only wants you for what’s between your legs. Jacob’s gruff voice in her head was unwelcome, yet familiar at the same time. What did Cole want with her? Thoughts like that had swirled through her mind since she’d first arrived here. Did he want to touch her? Would he be rough about it, or whisper and caress her sweetly as he touched her? Would she stop him if he tried? Scream and kick and run from the apartment? What would she do then? Maybe she would just let him do what he wanted, take what he wanted. His hands were calloused, but had been gentle when he’d cleaned her wounds, so perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. She could just squeeze her eyes closed and think of something else. But now it seemed less likely, since he hadn’t yet tried to touch her, hadn’t laid a single finger on her. And she didn’t know what to make of it. Her head felt dizzy with the waiting. At this point she just wanted him to make his move, to get on with it. The waiting and not knowing when he’d strike was exhausting. And so was not knowing how she’d respond. Being around Cole heightened her senses and left her reeling. She’d never felt this way about Dillon, despite his obvious advances, and found it interesting that even in the presence of Cole’s relative distance, her curiosity was piqued and her body at full attention. She looked down at the pink bottle of shampoo in her hands. She opened the cap and inhaled. Floral notes and the mouth-watering scent of ripe peaches met her senses, and she smiled. She’d used Cole’s shampoo that smelled like spearmint and made her scalp tingle, which she liked just fine, but it was nice to have something of her own. Her mouth curved into a slow grin at the thought of Cole picking this out her for. And she relished having conditioner too. Her hair would resemble a bird’s nest without it. After placing the bottles in the guest bathroom, she rejoined Cole in the kitchen to see what she might make for dinner. And perhaps she could even do some baking. As Savannah moved about the kitchen, Cole watched her with suspicion, like he was sure she was about to break down, or freak out at any moment. She didn’t feel like crying anymore. She didn’t feel much of anything anymore. She just wanted to be sure the kids were okay and figure out her new life, taking one day at a time. She felt relieved more than anything to be free from Jacob and the compound where she’d felt so out of place. And grateful for Cole for giving her a second chance at a life. But being unable to understand his intentions was eating away at her. She couldn’t say she was afraid of him; she knew that wasn’t it. More like curious about his motives. She felt comfortable enough, dressed in his soft, worn clothing, making herself at home in his kitchen, and most oddly, making herself comfortable in his arms. It was a comfort she needed, and wouldn’t deny herself. And after Cole had failed to make any type of move on her last night, she’d grown more comfortable, burrowing into his strong arms on the couch and allowing herself the tiniest semblance of safety, even if it wouldn’t last forever. Chapter 7 (#u68d3a775-dd4c-5f22-ac22-5c068d345d2b) Cole awoke suddenly to the sound of a muffled shout. What the-? He was out of bed in an instant and reaching for the handgun he kept in the drawer beside his bed, but then he remembered Savannah. He jogged across the hall and found her thrashing in bed, her arms fighting an imaginary opponent, soft sobs escaping her lips. ‘No! No!’ she shouted. ‘Don’t leave me. You can’t leave me.’ Her voice was filled with so much emotion, such aguish, it nagged at Cole. During the spilt second it took him to cross the room, he wasn’t sure if she was talking to him, or still dreaming. But when he reached the bed and saw the moonlit glow across her face, her eyes were still closed. She was having a nightmare. ‘Savannah.’ He shook her shoulders. ‘Savannah, wake up. It’s just a dream.’ Her eyes flashed open and locked on his. ‘Cole?’ ‘Yes, it’s Cole, sweetheart, I’m here.’ She reached up for his neck and tugged him down on top of her. Hot tears against his neck kept him from pulling away, like logic demanded he do. Instead his arms snaked around her prone body, and he pulled her even closer. ‘Shh. It’s okay. I’ve got you.’ She let out a weak sob and clutched him even tighter, holding on for dear life. After several minutes, her cries had let up, but her death grip on him had not. Knowing that neither of them would get any sleep at this rate, Cole lay down beside her, folding her gently against his body— her back to his front— and wrapped her in his arms. She turned her head and met his eyes, silently begging him not to hurt her. That look just about crushed him. He soothed a hand along her cheek, brushing her messy hair away from her face. He wondered if her dream had been about Dillon, that guy she’d been worried about. ‘You’re safe. Sleep now.’ His third day off work passed much like the others —he spent the day with Savannah. She cooked. He ate. It was nice, this routine they were developing. Of course he still had no clue what he was doing letting her stay with him. And the longer she stayed, the more likely it was she would discover the skeletons of Cole’s past that were better left in the closet. But those thoughts were pushed to the very back of his mind with Savannah’s sweet innocence to distract him. After a dinner of steak, baked potatoes and steamed broccoli, Savannah popped popcorn on the stove and they curled up on the couch to watch a movie. It was a romantic comedy. Savannah leaned forward, curious about the mushy parts, watching the onscreen couple kiss and tumble into bed like she’d never seen anything like it before. Hell, maybe she hadn’t. Cole did his best to try and keep some distance between them, but Savannah inched closer and closer until she was pressed against his side, her head resting on his shoulder. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and hold her, but the thought was so unwelcome, so unlike him, that he forced himself to sit immobile, and did his best not to notice the beautiful girl beside him. Like that was even possible. When their movie ended, Cole turned on the news. The first story was about takedown of the cult compound. His eyes flicked to Savannah to measure her reaction, but she’d fallen asleep, her face peaceful and beautiful. He alternated between stealing glances at her sleeping form, and watching the coverage on the compound, but learned nothing new. He waited for the news story to end, and shook her shoulder to wake her. ‘Savannah, come on, let’s get you in bed.’ She roused, her sleepy eyes blinking up at him. ‘No, not yet. I want to stay here with you,’ she whispered, her voice raspy from sleep. She trusted him way too much. She needed to go to her room and probably lock the goddamn door, because the way that T-shirt clung to her tits and crept up her side to expose a taunt patch of skin forced his mind to the gutter. He imagined lifting her shirt over her head and nibbling on her soft flesh, exploring her breasts with gentle licks and kisses until she was moaning out his name in that sweet sleep-laced voice. He swallowed roughly. ‘You need to go to bed. You’re falling asleep.’ She met his eyes. ‘I don’t want to be alone,’ she admitted. He knew he had probably made a mistake by sleeping in the bed with her last night, and he certainly hadn’t meant to set a precedent, but knowing he couldn’t refuse her request, he simply nodded and led her to his room. His bed was bigger. ‘Do you want to sleep in my room?’ ‘With you?’ she asked, her voice rising in uncertainty. He nodded. ‘Yes.’ After they got ready for bed, Cole peeled back the covers and Savannah crawled in. She snuggled into his pillows and inhaled. ‘It smells like you.’ He didn’t ask if that was good or bad, but the sleepy little smile on her lips confirmed her opinion on the matter. He didn’t quite know how to process the fact that his musky scented sheets — that were probably due for a washing — were pleasing to her. He liked her scent too, though. Maybe it was only natural to be attracted to the scent of the opposite sex. Cole knew this was dangerous ground. Not just because he was undeniably attracted to her, but because he was afraid that he was making himself too vital in her life. She certainly couldn’t stay here long-term, and then what? He never intended for her to grow attached to him. Yet that was exactly what seemed to be happening. Cole changed in the bathroom, stripping off his shirt and stepping into the pajama pants he’d begun wearing for Savannah’s benefit. When he crawled into bed in the dimly lit room, Savannah inched toward him and nestled in against his bare chest. The soft curve of her breast pressed against the firm plain of his chest, and her legs tangled with his. He went instantly hard. Fuck. He sat up and removed her grasp on him. ‘No, Savannah. You can’t do that. You can sleep in here if you want, but I need my space.’ She bit her lip and looked down, seemingly hurt at being scolded. ‘Hey, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just used to sleeping on my own.’ It was the truth, but not entirely. He wanted nothing more to take her in his arms and hold her all night. Hell, if he was admitting it to himself, he wanted to do a lot more than that to her tempting little body, though he’d never let himself act on it. He would not take advantage of her that way, but mostly he just didn’t want her to discover he was hard. Savannah’s tortured gaze caught his in the moonlight. ‘Are you mad at me?’ He couldn’t resist stroking her cheek. ‘No. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just get some rest, okay?’ She nodded, and lay back down — this time on the other side of the king-sized bed. She found his hand under the blankets and gave it a squeeze. ‘Thank you, Cole.’ Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/kendall-ryan/resisting-her/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. 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