Page 73 of Resist

“Maybe I don’t want you to.”

“Just like I don’t want to think about you . . . but I do.” His voice is quiet conviction mixed with a little bewilderment.

I don’t want to think about you either, but I do too.

“Ryker.” It’s just his name, but there is so much uncertainty mixed with need in it that it sounds foreign to my ears.

“It’s okay to let someone in, Vaughn.”

“Maybe I’m scared to.” I let my thoughts slip out, and then I’m blinded with the panic that hits me. “I don’t do this kind of thing.” I try to correct my error. Cover it up.

“You don’t want to, or you can’t?”

“I don’t know the answer to that.” My voice is barely a whisper as I rest my hips against the kitchen counter, one arm wrapped around my stomach, and wonder why I suddenly feel so uncertain. Why there’s an unexpected rush to it.

“That’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me.” Silence weighs heavily between us as I struggle between wanting to end the conversation and wanting it to continue all at the same time. “Look, we started off on the wrong foot.”

I snort, his comment sparking my nerves to life in that single sound.

“Under any other circumstances, we would have met, hit it off—”

“Are you actually implying we wouldn’t have been at each other’s throats?”

“My turn, Vaughn. This is where I get to speak, and you have to refrain from interrupting until I make my point.” I roll my eyes so hard, I’m sure he can feel the draft from the movement through the phone, but I don’t speak, and I sure as hell don’t agree with him. “Yes, I’m sure there would have been a power struggle of some sort, but I would have asked you out in the end.”

“And I would have said no.”

“There’s that word again.” His chuckle sends chills up my spine when I don’t want it to. “Why?”

“Because,” I assert, spine stiffening even though he can’t see it.

“That’s not a good enough answer.”

“And I’m not on the stand under your cross-examination.”

“Christ, you’re maddening, woman.”

“Thank you.”

“And gorgeous.”

Those words stun me, when I don’t ordinarily get stunned. My mouth opens, but no words come out as I squirm under the discomfort of his compliment.

“I’m not one to be swayed by words.”

“I’m more than aware of that . . . but you need to get used to compliments. For a beautiful and intelligent woman, you should be used to hearing them, and it pisses me off that you aren’t.”

“Maybe I don’t get them that often.” Patrons of Apropos notwithstanding.

“Then you’re hanging around the wrong people.”

“Ryker, why did you call?” I ask in frustration, needing to get the focus off me.

“I want you, Vaughn.”

His words render me speechless this time. Something has shifted between us. Something has changed. And now when he says those four words, I know it means so much more than to fulfill a contractual obligation.

“How about this?” he continues when I don’t speak. “Every time we’ve met, it’s been on my terms.”