Resistance

by Jan Springer

  She sighed again as more snowflakes drifted out of the sky and clung to her eyelashes. This would be the first snowfall of the season. In the past, before the Terrorist Wars, she’d loved the crisp cold air slapping against her face. Had enjoyed the fresh, virgin-white snow blanketing the ground and draping the trees. The snow always turned this area into a sparkling winter fairyland.

  Not anymore. These days the presence of snow on the ground meant extreme danger. She, as well as all the women in hiding, could be easily tracked in the snow.

  Besides, she’d been surrounded by so much activity over the last few years a constant state of adrenaline had her in automatic survival mode. That’s why she’d let herself get talked into coming here. To help herself unwind. Unfortunately her hiatus wasn’t working. Every noise alerted her to possible danger and, as she stood on the embankment overlooking the meandering creek that led back to the cabin, the silence almost overwhelmed her. It was so quiet the snowflakes splattered against the frozen ground. But something that didn’t belong in these woods whispered along the soft, flowing wind.

  She tensed as a warning seared through her like an explosion. Was that a footfall from somewhere nearby?

  The hushed crunch came again.

  Yes, footsteps. Light. Fast. One person.

  Shit! Someone is following me!

  She ran even before she could inhale her next breath. Zig-zagging around trees and boulders, her feet hit the ground with assurance and confidence. She’d been in situations like this before and had always escaped capture, except for the one time she purposely got caught for the pleasure house.

  Involuntary shivers of angst zipped through her and, in an instant, she tamped down the anxiety, refocusing on running, praying and escaping.

  Despite someone keeping pace with her, she concentrated on keeping her breathing even. Soon an odd, familiar calm melted over her. Quickening her pace, she smiled as the person chasing her cursed.

  Figures. A man. Just as I suspected.

  She picked up more speed. He cursed again. The son of a bitch was still keeping pace. Usually she had no problem outrunning someone. That’s why she made a point to jog several miles every morning, to keep herself in shape just so she could elude potential captors. Perhaps this guy did the same thing?

  Oh great.

  He breathed loudly as he gained ground. Panic split into her like a sharp axe.

  Dammit! Who was this guy?

  Soon her lungs began to hurt as the icy-cold wind seeped deep inside her.

  She should have been paying more attention to her surroundings. She should have known someone could be following her. Instead she’d been enjoying herself in the wilderness and now she’d pay for it.

  No! She wouldn’t pay! He would have to catch her first!

  She breathed deeper and pumped her legs harder until pain sawed through her thighs and the frosty air burned her face. Still he drew closer.

  Fuck! Who the hell is this guy? She wanted to look over her shoulder and see who had the same stamina, but her curiosity would waste precious seconds.

  She cut sharply to the right, heading for what appeared to be a meadow or hopefully one of the many lakes in the area. If she could just get a clear run on an ice-covered lake, she would drop her pursuer like a stone. Her hopes soared as she focused on the escape route looming in front of her.

  Yes! Past the branches of the trees she could make out a lake. A big one. And it appeared to be frozen solid. Or at least she hoped so.

  Twenty feet to go. Ten feet.

  She blasted onto the bare black ice, running wide open at a dangerous speed, hoping to heaven she wouldn’t slip and tumble. Ice crackled beneath her feet. Heck, falling would be the least of her problems. Behind her, the man shouted something about her having a death wish. Yet he just kept coming.

  Damn him!

  The rustle of his clothing and the determined slap of his boots on the ice made her groan in frustration as he continued his pursuit. Snowflakes twirled wildly, screwing with her field of vision, and the cold wind swept against her cheeks like shards of ice. She kept running.

  Hell! He had just as much of a death wish as she did, coming after her with all the ice cracking beneath them. A man with a death wish was deadly. It meant he was desperate and had nothing to lose.

  The farther she ran, the more the ice shifted beneath her feet. Her gut twisted in anxiety. It was only a matter of time before she fell through.

  If this guy was serious about catching her, he wouldn’t give up his pursuit until one of them plunged into the icy water. Maybe that’s what he hoped. It certainly would make his job easier than chasing her around. But damned if she would make his job easy.

  Anger seared through her and she veered sharply to the right, heading back toward the shoreline. With her sudden turn, he followed and fell.

  She decided to go for her gun. But he already had his weapon in hand and pointed at her. Unzipping her coat, she reached for her shoulder holster while keeping her stride. She grabbed her weapon and yanked it out, but her stupid knitted mittens prevented her from getting a finger on the trigger.

  Behind her, he shouted something stupid like “stop or I’ll shoot”, but she figured if he wanted her dead, he would have shot her already. Hopefully he didn’t mean he’d wing her and bring her down that way. With him flat on his ass and thankfully not shooting, she gained a significant amount of distance. She dared hope that maybe, she just might get out of this situation. Once she hit land, she could get better bearings beneath her feet, ditch the mitts and blow this son of a bitch away if he came any closer.

  The powers that be obviously had other plans. About three feet from the shoreline, her right foot caught on a rock and she sailed through the air.

  The black ice rushed up at her with mind-numbing speed and she managed to protect her face by breaking the impact with her arms. Her elbows smashed into the ice, sending jarring pain up her arms and into her neck, making her gasp at the intensity of the collision. The gun careened from her grasp and frustration ripped through her as the weapon sailed along the ice out of reach. The rest of her body, stomach and legs, hit hard, sending the air whooshing out of her lungs as she landed squarely, belly first on the ice. For a horrible few seconds, pain slithered through her chest and she lost her breath. Another few precious seconds passed as she struggled to grab some air and finally sucked in a lungful, and then two lungfuls, before managing to get her feet beneath her again. As she stood, she went for the second gun she kept in a thigh holster, but then froze as the cold metal of a knife blade kissed the right side of her jugular.

  Oh, she was so screwed.

  “Make one move and I’ll give you a red necklace to go with that red hair of yours.”

  She didn’t recognize the voice, but his ice-cold tone informed her he was quite pissed off. Rage wafted off him as his powerful arm snuggled like a vise around her waist, holding her captive. The man held her close enough, the scent of soap wafted off his skin and into her nostrils. So close, his hot heavy breath caressed the chill from her cheeks. Although her brain screamed at her to fight and free herself and kill the bastard, her highly trained senses told her to do what the man instructed.

  At least for the moment.

  “What do you want?” she whispered as the prickly rasp of his five o’clock shadow rubbed her cheek.

  “You,” came his hot reply.

  Damn!

  Panic punched her stomach like a two-by-four and she tensed. She thought about stomping on his foot to get out of his tight grasp or going for the gun in her thigh holster again, but his light chuckle and the increased pressure of the blade on her jugular made her pause.

  “Don’t even think it, Red. Now I want you to spread your legs for me.”

  She couldn’t help but inhale sharply at his command as panic threatened to burst through her like a bolt of lightning.

  “I’m not joking, Red. Spread your legs. Now. I won’t ask again.”

  Reluctantly,
she spread her legs. The position would make it that much harder to take off at a full-speed run.

  “That’s a good girl,” he breathed.

  He withdrew the blade from her neck, but his strong arm continued to clutch her waist. She was trapped. Her panic notched up a few degrees. She steadied her breath.

  “Now I want you to move slowly, Red. Lift your arms up to the back of your neck and clasp your fingers.”

  “I’m wearing mittens,” she snapped.

  “Take them off. Easy…no sudden moves…” The undertone in his otherwise soft voice was deadly serious.

  She tugged off her white knitted mittens, probably not as slowly as he wanted, but she was ticked at being caught. Cold air splashed against her fingers as she dropped the mittens and did as he instructed, bringing her hands up and clasping her fingers behind her neck.

  “You’re considered armed and dangerous, so I can’t see why you’d let me catch you so easily, Red. That is, unless you wanted to be caught?”

  He said the last sentence in a low, sensual voice as he moved into view. Although they’d never formally met, she knew him—bounty hunter, Cade Outlaw.

  He was her ex-boss’s brother.

  She relaxed and almost laughed at the irony. She’d worked with this man’s brother overseas during the Terrorist Wars. She’d been his youngest brother’s teaching assistant. Tyler Outlaw had joked on more than one occasion that she and his brother Cade would be a good match. Something to do with both of them having fiery tempers.

  She had to admit, luscious heat did whip through her as she inspected the enemy. He was a good-looking man, in a rugged sort of way. His lips were perfectly shaped for kissing and, if his mouth hadn’t been fashioned so sensually, she might have said his nose was too straight and gave him a hardened appearance.

  He was tall. Very tall. Probably six-foot-three to her five-foot-four inches. He was big framed with wide shoulders. He had the appearance of a renegade Indian with his dark tan, probably due to his working the fields of the Outlaw farm with a couple of his brothers.

  This Outlaw brother was considered lethal. During the Wars he’d been a professional torturer, carving up terrorists nice and slow. They said his cold heart allowed him to keep his captives alive for days until he’d extracted the information he needed from them. He might even have been hired to torture her so she shouldn’t—in the least bit—be reacting to him.

  But she was responding.

  His shoulder-length dark-brown hair was windswept and messy, and his crisp blue eyes were full of smug appreciation. He was glad he’d finally caught her.

  “I’m going to have to cuff you while I do a search.” He spoke in a deep timbre, way too husky to be professional.

  She couldn’t help but blow out a steadying breath.

  God! Did he know how dark his eyes went when he threatened her with handcuffs? Didn’t he know how erotic those words were to her ears? She inhaled slowly and loved the delicate scent of spice wafting off his skin.

  Reena blinked and tried to thrust away the carnal need sweeping through her as Outlaw lifted his coat, revealing two pairs of metal handcuffs hanging from his belt. She caught a glimpse of a holster as well and an empty knife scabbard.

  Another round of warmth skipped through her as she spied the impressive bulge between his thighs. She really should make an escape attempt. Maybe take him down with a knee to that nice groin of his before he discovered her other weapons. But all she could think was Cade had to be harmless, despite what she’d heard about him. He must know she’d worked with his brother Tyler, and he wouldn’t approve of Cade hurting her under any circumstances.

  She bit her bottom lip as a sudden bout of nervousness ripped through her. Unless…Cade didn’t know his brother was now a member of her Resistance?

  “Easy, Red. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  To her shock, his calming voice reassured her and she relaxed again.

  She wondered if he’d strip her naked in order to frisk her. Would he press his full lips against her mouth, push her up against one of the nearby trees on the shoreline and fuck her senseless?

  Oh shit, don’t start thinking that way. She cleared her throat, chastising herself for the string of wicked ideas rushing through her mind.

  Control, Red. Self-control.

  Her thoughts of having sex with him had everything to do with her being infected by the virus. She could handle this. She could handle him. She’d done it with other men when her symptoms kicked in. She could resist this man too.

  As Cade stepped forward, she held her breath. She didn’t need to inhale any more of his rugged masculine scent. If she did, she just might be in trouble.

  Self-control.

  Again she cleared her mind and her dry throat. He studied her as he circled to her right side. He probably expected her to bolt and she really should run. Ordinarily she would, but the heated way he gazed at her caressed her senses. Suddenly she didn’t want to be anywhere but here.

  “That’s it. Hold nice and still,” he ordered.

  When the cold metal snapped around one wrist and then the other, the metallic clinks sent a shaft of unwanted excitement through her. Visions of her naked, the rough tree bark brushing erotically against her breasts and mons as he stretched her arms in front of her, pressing them around the tree as he cuffed her wrists, seeped into her consciousness.

  He would kick her legs apart, hold her hips steady, and his engorged cock would plunge into her pussy from behind. His hard body would press along her backside and he’d kiss her shoulders, her neck and nibble on her ears, taunting her with teasing promises of luscious pleasure.

  “In the way you’re looking at me, I take it you know me,” he stated coolly.

  She melted beneath his firm, bold stare. She wanted his full, warm mouth claiming hers and she licked her lips with anticipation as need, fierce and hot, lashed her. She blinked the naughtiness away and focused on what he was saying.

  “Then you know I’m very thorough when it comes to my job. Any weapons on you besides that gun in your thigh holster?” he asked as he unzipped her jacket.

  She said nothing and his lips tilted upward as he retrieved the hidden gun.

  “Okay, let’s take this up against a tree,” he ordered.

  Reena’s eyes widened in surprise at his instruction. Oh man! Were they on the same wavelength or what? She wasn’t fast enough to follow his orders, so he roughly grabbed her cuffed hands and pulled her off the ice. He led her to a nearby tree where he gently pushed her left cheek up against the coarse bark and held her head in place. At least now she didn’t have to look into his scorching blue eyes and she would be able to think clearly.

  Or not.

  A booted foot nudged the insides of her feet apart.

  Damn him!

  Reluctantly she obeyed and spread her legs, envisioning his hands sliding against the curves of her ass. He let go of her head and pressed a strong palm against the small of her back and held her firmly against the tree.

  The hiss of the knife as he slid it into the scabbard at his waist didn’t give her any relief. His body had been firm when he’d held her and, despite her best intentions not to think about how easily he’d overpowered her, she imagined Cade Outlaw thrusting into her with commanding strokes.

  Dammit! Stop thinking. Stop reacting.

  But this man was an Outlaw. She’d secretly fantasized about her boss Tyler when they’d worked together during the Wars. But his heart belonged to another woman, so she’d never physically pursued him. Ah, but mentally was another story. She’d fantasized about him. Oh boy. Had she ever.

  She’d even lusted after his suggestion that when they got back to the States, he would introduce her to Cade. She’d imagined doing both brothers, but that, of course, had never happened.

  Too many things had gone wrong during the Terrorist Wars. After Tyler had been taken captive, she’d been left wide open to the mandatory R & R. Servicing men. Many men.

  The
intimate way Cade touched her as he frisked her was nice. Her pussy creamed warmly as his hot fingers danced along one side of her neck then the other as he checked her thoroughly for weapons. Pleasure tingled over her skin wherever he touched, despite knowing he was simply doing a body search. She sensed he patted her down slowly on purpose. Stroked her tenderly, committing her curves to memory.

  Oh stop it!

  He was a man. A bounty hunter. Her enemy.

  Despite the thickness of her grandfather’s hunting ski jacket, the strength of Cade’s fingers swept erotically over one shoulder before moving to her other one. She tensed as his fingers slid into her breast pocket and he withdrew her jackknife and cell phone.

  “Not that your cell works out here, being out of range, but I’ll confiscate it anyway.”

  A moment later, his hand dipped beneath her jacket. He danced his long fingers along the waistband of her jeans and she sighed in frustration when he discovered her homemade switchblades in each back pocket.

  “You certainly do have as much of a fascination with knives as I do.” He chuckled. Looking down at her with an amused smirk on his face, his left eyebrow quirked up in surprise. It was a cute gesture, that thing he did with his eyebrow.

  She blinked aside the rogue thought and forced anger into her voice. “Didn’t anyone teach you it isn’t polite to put a knife to a lady’s throat? Or touch her without her permission? It seems you’ve forgotten the manners your mother taught you.”

  He answered with a snort and continued frisking her. Her raspy breaths echoed in the air as his palms skimmed along the swell of her hips, then over her ass curves, before sliding intimately down the insides of her legs. Wherever he touched her, his body heat scorched her and she shuddered, biting back her moans.

  God, she’d better escape soon or she’d beg him to fuck her, compliments of the X-virus. Not that having sex with him was a bad idea. Far from it. She hadn’t been with a hottie, sex-on-a-stick in months. Since that night with the man they called Will Blade.