UNDER BY DURESS

UNDER BY DURESS

Kayla Stonor

She caught him, now she has to turn him in.

Second Kindle Edition 2012

Second Electronic Edition 2012

Copyright 2012 by
Kayla Stonor

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

It is illegal to reproduce or distribute this copyrighted work in any form, whole or in part, without the written permission of the author. Please support author’s rights by only purchasing authorized editions or borrowing through authorized lending schemes. The contents and characters in this book are entirely fictional and the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The cover is for illustrative purposes only.

~ FOREWORD ~

Dear Reader

This is my debut novella into the world of erotic romance and is the first of a novella collection called the Surrender Series focusing on the surrender of a strong, alpha male. The characters are sympathetic with real emotions and feelings for one another. The general use of BDSM themes is reasonably tame and appropriate to the story.

I hope you enjoy this story.

Kayla Stonor

~ Chapter One ~

“You got me a
stun gun
?”

Tahima flipped over the box and read the details on the side. She half-thought Adam Hartley was having a laugh.

Her old friend and county sheriff raised placating hands. “Now don’t go all disapproving on me. I was in Jessop’s and Randy told me you’d given him your Gramps’ entire gun collection.”

“He’s selling them for me. You know I hate guns.”

“Yes, but you’re up here alone with no protection. This stun gun is the next best thing. It’s not lethal, you don’t need a license, but it does take a bit of getting used to. I thought you could practice on that freaky scarecrow of yours.”

He meant the half-dressed mannequin the birds loved and her Gramps had cursed. It had only survived this long because she’d made it when she was a child.

On impulse, Tahima rose on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. Adam reddened. Ten years back, they had been teenage sweethearts. Now they were just good friends and Adam was married to her best friend, but he would always carry a small flame for her.

“I can take care of myself, you know.” She flexed a well-toned bicep making him smile.

“Maybe so. But I’m a man short and can’t drop by as much as I’d like. I’d feel happier knowing you had
something
to defend yourself with. How long are you staying?”

“Work gave me three months to fix the place up before the fall. I need to rent it out if I’m going to hold on to the place. Gramps couldn’t keep up with the maintenance towards the end so there’s a fair bit to do.”

“Have you checked your radio’s working okay? We’ve had a new tower installed, but you’ll still need to go south a few miles to get a signal and—”

“
Adam
, the radio’s fine. Stop worrying. I picked up new batteries when I got the supplies. Plenty of firewood, too, if I need it. I’m all set. You don’t need to fuss.” She didn’t tell him Walt was due next week to fix her car’s suspension that she’d knackered on the way back from Jessop’s. She brushed her chestnut hair out of her eyes. “Honestly, I’m a big girl now. Now, do you want some coffee? I’ve finished those plans.”

“Wouldn’t say no. But I want to show you how to use this thing before I go.” He took the box from her and tucked it under his arm.

Tahima led the way, automatically guiding him past the rotten step, first on her list of things to do.

“This whole place is crumbling around you,” he grumbled.

“Nothing a few alterations and a lick of paint won’t fix.”

He took a seat at the pine table in the kitchen as Tahima got out two mugs. “Got to sort through the basement first—the curator of a local museum wants to see what I’ve got. Can’t properly fix the place up until I get rid of it all anyway.”

“Place should rent out easily during the hunting season. Anna was hoping you would stay on. I told her I couldn’t see Tahima Sheldon giving up her fancy job in the city.”

Tahima poured steaming black coffee into a chipped mug. “Tell Anna we’ll go Christmas shopping. She loves New York in the winter.” She cut Adam a thick slab of apple cake then collected the plans from her bag. She laid them out on the table and pointed to the revised elevation. “Is this what you wanted?”

Adam studied the drawings in detail then grinned. “Perfect. Anna’s going to love it. Thanks, Tahima. How much do we owe you?”

“Nothing . . .  Call it a trade for the stun gun.”

*****

Watching Adam’s white SUV drop out of view, Tahima sighed with relief. Complete solitude was the real reason she was here. No annoying phone calls, a twenty-mile hike to her nearest neighbor—not a good idea to run out of sugar in the Blue Ridge Mountains—but most importantly, no men to break her heart.

Stephen would be unable to track her down here. She’d never introduced him to her grandfather. Gramps would have spotted his dominating personality instantly—told her not to be such a goddamn fool—so she had kept her two lives separate. She wished she hadn’t. Gramps would have been right as Stephen had proved bad news. And yet he had been so exciting and gentle at first.

How could she have been so blind?

Tahima forced her mind away from the painful memory of their break up. She turned to eye the ramshackle lodge she’d inherited and was overtaken anew by grief. Gramps had been the only family she’d truly known. Mom was a distant memory, Dad hid his sadness on the road—usually on a bender somewhere—and her brother lived abroad.

Gramps had doted on his only granddaughter, but Tahima knew the heartbreak lurking beneath his cantankerous outer shell. He’d gotten worse in his final years, clinging to the detritus of his life with a manic zeal, but she always knew he loved her. She would miss the old codger.

She returned to the barn to collect her new weapon and the stack of spare cartridges. She had thought Adam excessive at first, until she had wasted five cartridges trying to hit the scarecrow he had strung up from the rafters. She was pleased with her new toy. The electrodes didn’t hurt too badly, although Adam had refused to let her test out the drive stun direct against the skin.

Pity she didn’t have a stun gun on her when she’d walked in on Stephen abusing some floozy he’d picked up at a bar. In her
bedroom
. Heat flooded her cheeks. Damn it. She had to stop torturing herself like this. It was like picking at a scab. She tucked the reloaded weapon in the hall drawer then tied up her hair into a ponytail. She would distract her mind by starting on the basement.

*****

It was late afternoon when Tahima decided her lungs had been coated in enough dust for one day. Tomorrow, she would wear one of those dust masks she’d bought for sanding. She gazed around the boxes and shelves. If she did a couple of hours each day, the task wouldn’t feel so daunting. She wasn’t looking forward to going through his papers. The filing cabinet held personal notes of cases going back sixty years.

Gramps had held on to everything, even after his retirement. Although she’d cleared out the guns, there were numerous accoutrements he’d collected during his detective days that would definitely suit a museum. His hoarding was symbolic of all he had lost when her grandmother was murdered. Tahima didn’t want to end up the same way. She was going to breathe new life into the place. Start afresh.

Grabbing her leather jacket, she left the lodge and walked down the dirt track Adam had followed before turning north towards the ridge. The sun was low in the sky, but it was still warm so she swung her jacket from her fingers.

Looking across the pine trees to the mountain peaks, Tahima struggled to find the peace the ridge usually inspired in her. Her thoughts dwelled on those early days when Stephen could reduce her to a quivering coil of desire with one flash of those smoldering eyes. Her face burned to remember what she’d let him do to her. He had stolen her will and it had taken the ultimate betrayal to claim it back.

He had said she held all the power. He had lied.

Tears pricked her eyes. Four months hadn’t lessened the shame and humiliation of those last few weeks together and she hated him for it.

Correction: She hated that she had let him.

She angrily wiped her eyes dry. Well, never again.

A sputtering sound interrupted her thoughts. She shielded her eyes from the sun to search the sky. A Cessna was flying dangerously low over the forest. She could see a red flare in the near engine. Heart in mouth, she watched the small aircraft lose altitude, wondering why the pilot didn’t turn towards the grass plateau nearby. The question became moot when the plane dropped into the tree tops. A wing tip caught a branch. The Cessna twisted violently and disappeared from view.

Tahima held her breath. When the anticipated explosion didn’t happen she started to run.

The pilot was staggering out of the trees by the time she reached the plateau. He was holding something white to his head, a cell phone to his ear, and he was wearing a business suit.

Heart pumping, she veered towards him.

He saw her and stopped, then looked at his phone. “
Merda
.” He stuffed his mobile inside his wallet pocket.

Tahima slowed to a stop, panting lightly. “No signal . . . here. Are you okay? I saw your plane go down.”

“I just need a few moments.”

His voice captivated her. In fact, he had to be the most stunning man she’d ever met: tall, well-built, and black hair perfect for exploring fingers. She quickly quashed the mental image that sprang to mind, because he was studying her just as closely. Suddenly, Tahima was very conscious that she was on her own.

Unexpectedly, he wobbled, put out a hand, and sat down on the ground. He looked at the handkerchief he had pressed against his head and seemed surprised to see blood on it. Now that he was sitting he was less intimidating and Tahima stepped closer. He looked familiar, although a tanned, chiseled face like that wouldn’t look out of place in a magazine for female eyes only.

“Do I know you?” she asked.

His jaw tensed. Eyes raked her from head to toe. They burned with an intensity she recognized all too well.

“No.”

His tone was scathing—dismissive even—and Tahima automatically looked down before she could catch herself. Damn. Was every man going to do this to her? Any thought of helping him vanished. “Oh. Well, I’m glad you’re okay.” She swiveled on her heel.

“Where are you going?”

His tone compelled her to turn back and meet his eyes. The force of his full-on gaze hit her in the stomach and left her weak at the knees. She took a step back. “Home . . . My boyfriend went to radio for help.”

“Liar.” He stood up.

Tahima made herself turn and walk away.

“What? You’re just going? I’m bleeding here.”

She didn’t look back. “You’ll be fine. I have to get back. My boyfriend . . . ”

“Stop. Right there.”

Tahima’s throat closed. Not wait, but
stop
. This man was Stephen all over again. Worse, she couldn’t seem to take the next step.

“I need help,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The familiar words turned her stomach. She regained her ability to move. If he meant what he said, he would let her go.

“I
said
, stop.”

Shit . . . he was following her. Panic reared up from nowhere. She began to run. She had the edge. He was hurt. She was fit. Stephen hadn’t tolerated anything less and working out had become an engrained habit. She reached the path. Her feet flew across the ground. Her breath pounded in her chest. She saw the pothole too late, almost cleared it, stumbled, and rolled head over heels into a boulder. She lay there stunned for a few seconds then struggled to get back on her feet.

“
Cazzo
! Are you alright?”

Steel fingers clamped on her arm and held her in place.

One part of her mind grasped that he was of Italian descent. The rest of her went into revolt. She pushed him away. “Leave me alone!”

He let go, but then fingers pinched her chin and made her look directly at him. He tilted her head to one side, checking her eyes. “Did you hit your head?”

“No.”

He clucked in disapproval then let go of her chin, only to run his hands over her shoulders and down her arms. His fingers left a buzzing wake in their stead.

Tahima gasped.

He looked a little taken aback. “Sorry. At least nothing seems broken. A hot bath should set you straight.”