His for the Taking - By Ann Major Page 0,50

force her to agree to his terms. How could a marriage to such a man succeed once their physical attraction died?

Slowly, her eyelids fluttered and she drifted uneasily to sleep. At some point she began to dream.

She was a little girl again, riding horses, happy she could roam far from the trailer and her mother. The trees were emerald-green, the sky a vivid blue. But no matter how glorious her ride, eventually she had to go home, and when she did, the faceless monster was there, barring the door when she entered, grabbing her wrists when she tried to run. She knew that if she didn’t get away, he would do the same horrible things to her he’d done before, so she clawed and kicked, but as always he bore her to the ground, and she began to scream.

Her own ear-splitting cries dragged her unhappily to consciousness. When she opened her eyes, moonlight and shadow played tricks on her imagination, causing her to sense a presence in her house even before she heard heavy footsteps in the hall.

Vernon? Was he here?

A mind-numbing fear gripped her. Scrambling across her bed toward the window, she searched for the lock while screaming for all she was worth.

* * *

Cole leaped to his feet at Maddie’s first piercing scream and was sprinting down the dark hall before her second. When he opened her door, she threw herself behind her bed, where she crouched in the moonlight.

“Vernon?”

Cole’s heart shredded. “No! It’s just me—Cole.”

“Cole?” Her dull, glazed eyes stared at him uncomprehendingly.

“I was with Noah, asleep down the hall,” he said. “You’re safe. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“You don’t know him. You don’t know what he’s capable of!”

As Cole crossed the room and sank down beside her, he was afraid he did. A terrible understanding took hold even before he pulled her shaking body into his arms. Had that bastard raped her?

“There, there,” he murmured.

“Hold me!” she whispered, her intake of breath sharp as she clutched handfuls of his shirt to draw him closer.

“Hey, hey, everything’s okay.” But it wasn’t. Not if his worst fears were correct. He wasn’t blameless if what he feared had happened. Far from it.

“No…”

He brushed her hair out of her face. “You’ve had a bad dream. That’s all.” He continued to murmur to her soothingly even as he cradled her in his arms, stroking her face and neck while his own conscience attacked him.

Instead of being so hell-bent on protecting his own reputation, he should have protected her.

“Just hold me, please,” she breathed, sensing none of his inner conflict. She hung on to him with a desperation that made him ache for what she must have suffered at Vernon’s hands.

Why hadn’t he seen that he should have done more to protect her? Why hadn’t the town seen that she was young and vulnerable and living in a dangerous situation? Suddenly he hated Yella, hated every individual who lived there who’d played a part in this, himself most of all. They’d sat in judgment of her and thus had left her defenseless. She’d hardly been more than a child.

“When…I heard you, I thought Vernon was really here. My dream was so real…I could almost smell him.” She began to shudder uncontrollably.

Cole caressed the nape of her neck. “He’s in prison, right?”

“Huntsville,” she murmured thankfully.

“So, it’s okay. You’re safe. You’re with me. I swear I won’t let him or anybody else hurt you ever again.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.” And he meant it. With every fiber of his being, he meant it. If only she’d give him a second chance, he wouldn’t let her down again.

His brow grazed hers affectionately. Then he pressed his nose to her nose, but somehow when he did it, their lips clumsily touched. His blood flamed. And because he felt so guilty, he hated the lust that drove him. But when he tried to pull away, she clutched him even closer.

She was so damn sexy with her huge eyes, her voluptuous breasts crushed against his chest. He inhaled the mingled scents of her shampoo and perfume and grew even harder. She was so soft and feminine, so ripe. When he felt her nipples tighten against his chest, he caught his breath.

It would be easy to slide her nightgown up and strip off his slacks, easy to take her when she was so open to him like this. But he hated himself too much for what he’d let happen, for what he’d willingly ignored. He didn’t deserve her trust or her