Resisting Her
BY KENDALL RYAN
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
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
Title Page
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Read More From Kendall Ryan
About the Author
Tell Me Your Favourite Part
Connect With Kendall Ryan:
Also by Kendall Ryan
About the Publisher
Prologue
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
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
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
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 façade 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.