Resisting Her (9 page)

“I’m just going to send Norm a text and tell
him I’m staying home today.”

She bit her lip, deciding if she could
believe him. “Fine.” She handed over his cell phone and went to
hang his slacks in the closet. From inside the closet, she heard
him mumbling to himself that
criminals don’t take a day off and
neither should he.

She returned to his bedside and was ready to
forcibly remove the phone from his hands, but as he promised, he
sent one quick text, then set the phone on the bedside table. He
rolled to his side, hugged a pillow to his chest and closed his
eyes.

She pushed his hair back from his forehead,
feeling for a temperature. She secretly loved how his hair looked
when he first woke up, like a rakish young boy who’d been out all
night raising trouble, or enjoying a tumble between the sheets. She
pressed the back of her hand against his cheek and his eyes
fluttered open. “You feel warm,” she whispered.

“Mmm,” he groaned.

“Think you can keep down some water?”

He nodded.

Savannah returned with a glass of chilled
water and two pain relievers, which she set on the bedside table
for later once she was confident he was done getting sick. Cole’s
foggy gaze met hers, watching as she arranged the blankets around
him and fussed over him. She tipped the glass of water to his lips
and he swallowed a tiny sip, before dropping his head back to the
pillow again.

“Thanks,” he croaked, his voice raw. “Lay
with me?” he asked softly. He’d never requested her presence
before, never acted like it mattered. They’d cuddled and lain
together so many times, but it was always at her urging. Her heart
thumped in her chest at hearing him ask for her in that way. It was
just because he was sick. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed
to enjoy it all the same.

She pulled back the covers, joining him in
between the sheets where she could snuggle up properly. Cole
cracked open one eye and lifted his arm, urging her nearer.

“Get closer, I’m cold,” he whispered.

His skin felt hot to the touch, but Savannah
didn’t argue, draping her arm across his chest, and one leg over
his hips as she wrapped her body around his.

He sighed a little sound of contentment and
pressed a kiss to her hair. “Thanks, Savannah.”

Savannah awoke to an intense heat radiating
around her. She flung the blankets off her, gasping for breath. God
he was burning up. “Cole?” She shook his shoulders trying to rouse
him. “Cole, wake up.”

He lazily opened one eye and let out a slight
groan. “Need Savannah.” His hand raised and then flopped heavily
against the mattress.

“I am Savannah. Sit up so you can take some
pain reliever for me.”

“No…want Savannah,” he groaned, his eyes
still closed.

She reached for the pills, pried open Cole’s
lips and placed them on his tongue, then patted his cheeks and made
him take a sip of water. He did so, lethargically, before falling
back against his pillow.

“Savannah…” he breathed once more.

She smoothed her hands through his hair.
“Shh. Just rest. I’m here.” She rubbed his neck and shoulders,
finding them tense even while he slept.

Hope surged in her chest. Feeling needed and
vital was a sentiment that she missed so much it brought tears to
her eyes. She blinked them away and brought a palm to Cole’s
roughened cheek, skittering her thumb back and forth.
He only
needs you because he’s delirious with fever.
She ignored the
empty feeling in her chest and continued smoothing his hair back
and gently caressing him, doing her best to soothe both of their
aches.

Having recovered from the twenty-four hour
flu, Cole was back at work the following day. He’d spent the week
working on a new case, but had hit a lull. He stretched at his
desk, his neck cracking with the movement and decided to check into
the cult case to see if there was anything new. He also wanted to
learn more about Dillon.

He typed a search into the database and hit
enter. He learned that all fourteen children had been reunited with
their mothers —none of whom were charged in the case. He knew that
would make Savannah happy. He thought about going home mid-day to
check on her, but talked himself out of it.

There was surprising little about Dillon.
He’d been tracked to Amarillo where he was working manual labor.
He’s been given the news of his father’s death and was also
questioned at that time, but the interview didn’t reveal much.

Cole continued perusing the file and stumbled
across a photo of Dillon. It was a candid shot from his time at the
compound, and Savannah was in the photo too, sitting on his knee in
front of a rustic fire pit — a wide smile on her face. The picture
ate away at him. Maybe she really was happy living there. Sure, she
seemed to be adjusting well to staying with him, but seeing the
pure bliss on her face — under a darkened, star filled sky, seated
with friends and family next to her — he began to realize there was
more to her life at the compound than crazy Jacob.

He studied the picture closer. Dillon’s hands
rested on Savannah’s hip and his face was covered in a stupid ass
grin. If this bastard so much as laid one finger on Savannah, he’d
personally castrate the son of bitch. He considered how to bring up
Dillon to Savannah to get more information about their
relationship, but decided to proceed with caution. She was doing so
well, he didn’t want to upset her. Savannah had seemed somewhat
worried and hesitant to discuss Dillon, so at least for now, he’d
let it drop. Savannah was safe. That’s all that mattered.

He knew he couldn’t just keep her holed up in
his condo, even if he wanted to. He realized that in the weeks
Savannah had been staying with him, she’d yet to leave the house,
aside from her therapy appointments and walking the dog. It was
Friday night, and he decided that tonight that would change. If
Savannah really was going to be staying with him, he wanted to do
all he could to help re-acclimate her to her new life. Step one to
her gaining some confidence and independence was to get out of his
condo on a regular basis. Her three times a day trips to take
Cuddles outside didn’t count, though he supposed that was a
start.

He would take her out to dinner — give her a
break from cooking. Of course she would need something to wear,
other than his oversized sweats and T-shirts she seemed comfortable
in.

Looking up from his computer screen at a
rustling noise next to him, he spotted agent Amanda Larson
shuffling through her desk drawer. He’d never really paid her much
attention before. They rarely worked together, though he knew she
was good at her job.

“Colby Fletcher,” she scolded. “Were you just
checking out my backside?” She turned to face him, placing her
hands on her hips. His eyes darted up to hers. He had been, but not
for the reason she seemed to think.

She appeared to be about the same size as
Savannah. “What size are you?”

Her playful grin instantly evaporated. “You
never ask a girl her size. God, no wonder you’re still single.”

He wasn’t sure how she knew that fact about
him, or what exactly she meant by the statement — well actually he
did — that he was insensitive. And he couldn’t argue with that. But
the thing was, he knew that Savannah was changing him little by
little. “I need to buy a gift, and you look about the right size.
Can you just help me out here?”

“Fine.” She frowned. “Size four petite pants.
A small or medium on the top.”

Cole scribbled down the information on a
piece of paper and stuffed it in his pocket.

When Cole got home from work, his house was
strangely silent. He set the shopping bags down on the island and
searched for Savannah. Not finding either her or Cuddles, he
ventured outside, not bothering to change from his work clothes. He
found Savannah, but not at all like he had expected. Though he
guessed he knew better than to expect anything normal from her.

She was sitting cross-legged in the grass
next to the guy from unit 4D, Levi something or other. Her head was
thrown back and the sweet sound of her laughter tumbled from her
lips.

What the fuck?

Levi was casually leaning back on his elbow,
plucking at a blade of grass. Cole couldn’t hear what Levi was
saying, but whatever it was, he was sure he had never seen Savannah
so carefree or laughing with such abandon. Something inside him
clenched with jealousy. Savannah was his. He didn’t know where that
thought had come from, but there it was, insistent and
possessive.

Levi’s head snapped up once Cole got closer,
and Savannah’s laugh died on her lips when she saw his expression.
He was sure he looked ready to kill someone. Well not just someone
— the asshole from 4D, specifically.

“Whoa there FBI man,” Levi chuckled,
straightening his spine at the implied threat in Cole’s
posture.

“Savannah?” His voice was low, rougher than
he intended.

Savannah scrambled to her feet. “Cole?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath,
forcing himself to calm down. Savannah approached him carefully and
placed a hand on his forearm, which worked to relax him.

“You weren’t inside,” he bit out in a clipped
tone.

“Cuddles needed to go potty.” She lifted the
dog onto her hip, her eyes full of worry.

He nodded. “Everything’s fine.” He patted the
top of Cuddles’ head, and rubbed his thumb across Savannah’s cheek.
Watching her laughing and looking at Levi had set something off
inside him. “Go on inside. I got a surprise for you tonight. The
bags on the counter are for you. Get changed. We’re going out.”

“Out?” she choked on the word.

He nodded. “Go on. I’ll be up in a sec.” He
couldn’t ease her mind about going out just yet, he needed to deal
with Levi first. He was sniffing around Savannah like a damn dog
and he was about to learn that was not okay.

The only things Cole knew about Levi were
that he was twenty years old, went to the local community college
and lived with his mother, a forty-something divorcee who had come
on to Cole on more than one occasion.

Once Savannah had disappeared inside, Cole
turned to face Levi, stepping in closer until they were chest to
chest.

Cole’s intense gaze penetrated Levi’s and he
shook his head slowly. “She’s off-limits.”

Levi didn’t falter. “She’s a little young for
you, isn’t she?”

“That’s none of your fucking business. I’m
only going to say this once. Stay away from her.”

Levi scrubbed a hand over his stubble-covered
jaw. “Whatever you say man, chill out. We were just talking.”

Cole let out a huff and stalked back inside.
Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have freaked out on Levi. Savannah was
allowed to have friends, after all. But there was just something
that didn’t sit well with the thought of her having male friends.
Still he knew he had no right to be mad at Savannah. He’d have to
work on that.

Savannah carried the shopping bags into the
guest bathroom. She removed each item to inspect it. A pair of
dark-washed stretchy jeans, a heather gray sweater that was super
soft and thin, and a pair of white cotton panties. She brought the
clothes to her face and inhaled. Mmm. They smelled new, like a
department store. She’d rarely had new clothes bought just for her,
having worn hand-me-downs most of her life. She quickly changed and
threw the sweats into the bathroom hamper.

When she turned toward the mirror, she stared
at her reflection in disbelief. The clothes fit perfectly —the
jeans sat low on her waist, hugging her hips and bottom, and the
top was so fine and soft, she couldn’t resist wrapping her arms
around herself for a squeeze. She felt pretty for the first time in
a long time, and she had Cole to thank. Awareness of her growing
debt to him prickled at the back of her mind. She owed him for
Cuddles, and now the new clothes.

She finger-combed her dark hair and glanced
at her reflection one last time before going to find Cole. He was
sitting on a barstool at the kitchen island, drinking a bottle of
beer. With only his profile in view, Cole hadn’t yet noticed her.
Savannah took a moment to study him uninterrupted. She had come to
love just looking at him when she knew he wasn’t watching. His back
and shoulders were powerful with muscles that bunched under his
shirt. Even his forearms were masculine —she could see where he’d
pushed his sleeves up and thick veins strained against his arms. He
was beautiful, yet ruggedly masculine. He was her safety, her
comfort. She owed him everything. But she had no idea how to repay
him.

She straightened her shoulders and cleared
her throat. Cole turned toward her, the bottle of beer suspended
halfway to his lips. His eyes began at her denim-clad thighs, and
moved slowly over her hips, her flat belly, up to her chest and
lingered there a moment before finally settling on her eyes. He
didn’t try to hide the fact that he was checking her out, and made
no apologies for his behavior. Savannah squirmed under his gaze.
She was amazed that one look could make her feel hot all over and
so feminine at the same time. Without dropping his gaze from hers,
he dragged the bottle of beer to his lips and pulled down a healthy
swig, his throat moving with the effort.

“Thank you for the clothes,” Savannah
offered, needing to break the heavy silence that hung between
them.

“They fit,” he murmured, his eyes still
refusing to leave hers.

She blushed and looked down, suddenly
realizing that he had shopped for her, picked these things out,
even the panties that now seemed to accentuate the throb in her
groin. She pulled in a deep breath and headed for the kitchen,
unable to stand on display for his perusal any longer. She
retrieved his empty bottle of beer and rinsed it in the sink before
adding it to the recycling bin under the sink.