Resist
A Break Her Novel #1
Blanche Hardin
Resist
A Break Her Novel #1
Copyright © 2014 Blanche Hardin
All rights reserved.
BH Dark Romance Publishing
ISBN:
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This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.
Blurb
He’s a man not used to hearing the word “no.”
He wanted her.
He took her.
This is the beginning of their dark journey and she cannot resist.
Novels by Blanche Hardin
Resist (A Break Her Novel #1)
Tempt ( A Break Her Novel #2) – December, 2014
Table Of Contents
Novels by Blanche Hardin
Dedication
Playlist
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
About The Author
Dedication
To all of those who have supported me through this exciting journey.
Lea, you support me in every endeavor and thank you for your trust.
To my author friends in the various author groups I belong to on Facebook. Thank you.
To my family and friends, thanks for dealing with my wacky temperament when I am on deadline.
And lastly to my readers. Thank you for following me wherever I go. My imagination is huge and sometimes I just have to follow it where it takes me.
xoxo
Playlist
“Bloodstream” – Ed Sheeran
“Body Electric” – Lana Del Rey
“Float” – The Neighbourhood
“Somethin’ Bad – Miranda Lambert (feat. Carrie Underwood)
“My Gun” – Tove Lo
“Burnin’ Up” – Jessie J. (feat. 2 Chainz)
“Coloured Bedspread” – Annie Lennox
“Little Bad Girl” – David Guetta (feat. Taio Cruz & Ludacris)
“Animals” – Maroon 5
“Don’t” (Rick Ross Remix) – Ed Sheeran (feat. Rick Ross)
“Another’s Arms” – Coldplay
“Cold” – Annie Lennox
“Blue Jeans” – Lana Del Rey
“Wild” – Jessie J. (feat. Big Sean)
“Sex And Candy” – Maroon 5
“Bad Girl” – Avril Lavigne (feat. Marilyn Manson)
“The A Team” – Ed Sheeran
“New Love” – Maroon 5
“A Sky Full Of Stars” – Coldplay
“National Anthem” – Lana Del Rey
Listen to on Resist Playlist on Spotify.
Chapter 1
Blaine
He sat there and observed her like the perfect predator stalking their prey. Deliberately and with all the subtlety of the other so-called hipsters in Caffeinate, he sipped his green tea latte and watched her movements with precision.
She sat in the corner, a hard cover of an advanced Abnormal Psychology textbook closed while she studied her notes and looked over them again and again. Occasionally, she would quickly type something on her MacBook Air and then her eyes would scan her notes yet again.
He knew everything about her.
In his line of work, he couldn’t afford to be anything but cautious.
The underworld knew him as Baise Moiaussi, one of the most cutting edge directors of his time.
Unfortunately, his movies couldn’t be rented on Netflix or streamed on Amazon. No one knew who he was or how to get a hold of him except the people who counted. The people with money who could pay him to film performed sick acts of perversion he was highly known for and did without compunction.
It would have been easier if he had been a psychopath or a sociopath although he only suffered from severe manic depression. It wasn’t exactly the same thing and although it caused impressive highs and even more dangerous lows, he always had Zed and Xavier to save him when he needed help.
Unfortunately, a very special person to him had chosen Victoire Janssen, and he never broke his promises, ever.
She was what he craved.
Dark auburn hair with natural pale strawberry blonde highlights—silky with soft waves—struggled in a bun she’d pinned to the back of her head with a scrunchie. Hell, did most women still wear those ugly things anymore?
The color of her hair stood out even more prominently against olive skin and a face that would have made Botticelli weep with delight. A heart-shaped face with prominent steel-gray eyes, a patrician nose with high cheekbones and a rosebud mouth meant for excessive and reckless pleasure.
It was a shame she would have to murdered in cold blood.
In the end, that’s what happened to them all—the cease of a pulse at least—though many didn’t leave this world by someone else’s hands but their own.
Not that it was a problem.
After all, people were born to die.
He finished his green tea latte, stood and walked past her ever so casually. The expensive diamond cufflink he wore fell from his jacket and rattled on the hardwood floor not far from her vicinity.
It was the ultimate empathy test.
If she noticed it and reached to pick it up then she was a fairly decent person who was pretty aware of her surroundings. It would also make it that much harder to abduct her without some willingness on her part. In short, he would have to kill her with kindness—so to speak.
If she ignored the cufflink or pretended she hadn’t seen anything, either she was a self-absorbed bitch who thought the world revolved around her or she swayed to the actual side of cluelessness. Those were the easiest to abduct. They were so self-aware of themselves and no one else, important clues about their surroundings were missed—often more to their detriment than anyone else’s.
She stopped mid-type and leaned over to pick up the cufflink.
Bingo.
Zed accused him of losing his touch but it seemed like most women still found a twenty-nine-year old guy attractive.
Not to mention a graduate student working on her final thesis for her Masters of Science in Abnormal and Clinical Psychology. She was hardly a complete and utter innocent at the age of twenty-five, regardless how brilliant she happened to be on paper. He was sure she’d had boyfriends and lived a perfectly normal life—as typical as academic types usually enjoyed.
Blaine, Zed and Xavier were the sons of Academics.
Both parents worked for the Stanford School of Medicine, specifically, the Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences Department.
They’d donated their lives to the study of the human brain and what made it tick yet they couldn’t save their sons from turning into what they’d become. Nor would they be able to save one of his father’s most prized research students.
Blaine received an extra thrill knowing the young woman he planned to abduct held a soft spot in his father’s stone-cold heart.
Victoire stood to her feet and strode toward Blaine before she gently gripped his shoulder with a firm hand. “This looks particularly valuable. I highly doubt you want to lose it.”
He sized her up, shocked by her forthright behavior.
For some reason, he thought she would be mousy, a bit weaker and easier to break in. A woman like her might present unforeseen problems.
Then again, that’s what he deserved for leaving such important research to Xavier. He was much more concerned with getting his rocks off and laying the next hot piece of ass that crossed his path. He could be dedicated and very hard working when he remembered to take the cornucopia of meds prescribed for his attention hyperactivity disorder.
“It’s nothing,” he replied in a perfected California accent that hid his fluency in several different languages—French, Danish and German being three of them.
“What do you mean?” She cocked her head to the side, her gray eyes bright in the natural light streaming through the windows. “It’s part of a Cartier collection that has been discontinued. I should know. I bought it as a birthday gift for my father.”
“How nice for him,” he replied in a voice that hinted at his boredom with their brief conversation.
“Sorry, you seem to be on your way somewhere . . .” Victoire studied him with those depthless, ever-seeing steel-gray eyes. “Do we know each other?”
Blaine smirked. “No, I’ve never met you in my life but I’m sure that line comes in handy when you’re interested in a future bed partner.”
Her cheeks flushed though she continued to meet his gaze head on. “Aren’t you a cocky one? I wasn’t hitting on you but you do look familiar.”
“It might have something to do with you being my father’s research assistant. I am told we look more alike than my other two brothers.”
“Blaine Pascal-Baasch?” Her mouth dropped open before she covered it as if she’d met a superstar. “As in you’re the eldest son of Professor Nicolette Pascal and Professor Stefan Baasch? They have photos of you three in their offices—I suppose that’s why you looked so familiar. You have two other brothers—Zed and Xavier—they were used in a study as children and eventually a series of books was written about them. Inside the Mind of Twins. There was also a children’s series based upon you . . . what was it called?”
“Blaine’s Bold Adventures.” He rolled his eyes.
“Is it true? You wrote them yourself and your parents basically had an editor on the payroll?”
His smirk slowly turned into a warm smile—completely false and over the top but God knows she didn’t need to know this information. “Yes, I wrote them.”
Victoire laughed out loud, the sound musical and bright. “I’ve never met a genuine celebrity before . . . well, except Adam Levine, Pharrell Williams and Gwen Stefani—they were part of my thesis on the psychology of celebrity culture. Basically, it talks about how everyone craves to be famous thus proving Andy Warhol’s famous quote that in the future, everyone will have their fifteen minutes of fame.”
Blaine wasn’t supposed to divulge more to her than necessary but he couldn’t help as he responded, “Surely that is a load of crap. How many people truly have fifteen minutes of fame? I don’t count being on a talent show unless you go on to do something with your fame like a Jennifer Hudson or a Carrie Underwood.”
“Agreed, they have done quite well for themselves but there are lesser known stars out there who have secured deals in Vegas, managed to secure guest spots on major television shows, record albums and make a name for themselves in general. Based upon your theory, unless an actor is an A-lister then they truly aren’t famous. Many aren’t household names per se but they set out to accomplish a goal and in the end, they succeeded.”
“Is that what all the abnormal psychology info is about?” Blaine vaguely pointed out the book, pages of notes and her open MacBook Air.
“Yes and no. Ideally, I would love to study the psychology behind celebrity worship in first-world countries as well as emerging nations but with my luck, I’ll end up in the research department.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “Helping people with more money than good sense figure out their children’s brand of crazy pays much better than frivolous research on the psychology of celebrity worship.”
Blaine sensed an in and took it greedily, his crystal blue eyes dancing up and down the fine curves of her body.
“I don’t know if you’re aware but I’m a filmmaker. My parents don’t really talk about their sons or what we do . . . mostly because I believe they were disappointed we didn’t follow them down the crazy train of academia.”
Victoire’s fingers played with her right earlobe nervously. “Okay. But what does this have to do with me? I have my thesis and research to complete—”
“Surely you can finish your research in the autumn? School is almost done for the year. Exactly how much time do you need to finish your thesis?”
“Well, it’s almost completed. I’m a bit . . . worried about what your father is going to say when he finds out I want to finish up the research in the Fall. He’s used to me being one of his most eager students.”
Blaine smirked again. “Well, there is a first time for everything. He’ll get over it.”
“You would say something like that, after all, he’s your father. To me, he’s simply Professor Baasch and he isn’t one to mess around with if I may be so bold to state that.” She looked toward her MacBook as a message pinged through what probably was her Facebook account.
Blaine watched as she studied it before she scrunched up her face and replied back with lightening-quick fingers across the keyboard.
“Friend problems?”
Victoire glanced at him with those gorgeous gray eyes. Innocent yet worldly eyes that wished not to know of the horrors that lurked in the sick world they inhabited. If only she knew she was talking to one of the of the men her parents had probably warned her about over and over again.
“Ugh . . . worse. Ex-boyfriend problems. Somehow I always attract the weirdoes, psychos and losers who can’t let go. I don’t know why he won’t get it through his thick skull we’re over.” She continued to type before she looked his way again. “As a matter of fact, I just blocked his ass. I have better stuff to do with my time than deal with his shit.”
“Good deal.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a professional card that simply had his name, occupation and number. “Give me a call and we’ll talk more about the project I want you specifically involved in. If you run into any problems with my father, I can handle it. This is a great opportunity for you to actually do something with the degree you have fought so hard to achieve.”
She smiled brightly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ve always been fascinated with psychology but my parents think my degree is a waste of time. An overprotective French-born mother and a pragmatic Danish doctor feel their daughter is wasting her life on a pseudo-science.”
Blaine laughed and for the first time, it sounded genuine to his ears. “Parents can be like that. Enjoy your day.”
He began to walk away as he heard a chair scrape against the hardwood floors and Victoire questioned, “Why me?”
Ah, what a question but one he had the perfect answer for as he turned toward her and winked suggestively. “Why not you? It isn’t often I run across a woman with such brains, beauty and grace. I’m intrigued beyond belief. I can’t wait to find out what makes you tick.”
Victoire stared at him for a long time be
fore she waved goodbye and he took that as his cue to leave.
He’d taken up more time than he’d anticipated and what he had in store for her would be so much fun, he could hardly wait to get started.
Checkmate.
Chapter 2
Vie
I couldn’t even pretend like one of the sexiest men on the planet hadn’t just approached me and offered me the chance of a lifetime.
It was true—I considered myself a feminist and didn’t believe I would ever be under the spell of such a good looking guy just because he had a body to die for and the face of a fucking Adonis.
Seriously, Blaine Pascal-Baasch was a legend in some of the most notorious circles I’d known about in my quest to write a decent thesis on celebrity culture.
I wasn’t one to become star struck. It just didn’t make any sense when they were human just like we were but he was different. Everyone in the know was aware he didn’t make merely avant-garde films. They pushed the envelope in a very European way that intrigued and frightened me at the same time. However it was the adrenaline running through my veins that had me thinking about a suitable excuse to get out of another boring summer of research and closer to the man who most people knew as Baise Moiaussi.
Being fluent in French, it could be interpreted in one way but the last name almost sounded Algerian so it tripped people up. Literally, his director’s name translated to “Fuck Me Too.” I got a laugh out of it and knew his work was definitely on the cutting edge but that’s what made it so fascinating.
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