Win by Submission

by Melynda Price

  “Please don’t look at me like that,” she whispered.

  He frowned. “Like what?” Like she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen?—because she was. Like he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and erase every foul memory that bastard had imprinted in her mind?—because he did.

  “Like you want to save me. It’s no use, Cole. I’m a lost cause.”

  “You’re far from that, Kat. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

  The faintest hint of a smile tugged at her kiss-swollen lips, making his heart kick in his chest. Tentatively, she reached up and placed her small hand on his cheek, her palm cupping the hard angle of his jaw.

  “The way you say that, almost makes me believe it’s true.”

  The sadness in her voice broke his heart. Katie deserved better than this, dammit—better than living every day of her life in fear, under the constant threat of her psycho ex finding her. Well, she wasn’t alone anymore. Cole was here now, and he’d be damned if he was going to sit by while this piece of shit terrorized her.

  “Carter isn’t going to hurt you, Katie. Not again. I promise. But you have to let me help you, okay?”

  Reluctantly, she nodded, forcing a smile that failed to convey she was totally convinced of his vow. But this time, when he reached for her she didn’t flinch as he tucked that stray lock of hair behind her ear. It was a start, at least. “The last thing I want to do is frighten you,” he said, letting the silk slide through his fingertips. “I don’t want you to be nervous around me, or worry I’m going to keep coming on to you or something. I’m sorry that happened. I didn’t realize . . .” And neither did her uncle, or Marcus never would have suggested what he had. “It won’t happen again, Kat.”

  It was a promise Cole was determined to keep, even if it killed him—and it just might, he decided, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to make room for his poor, aching dick.

  Apparently, Cole intended to keep his promise. Much to Katie’s chagrin, she couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. It haunted her dreams at night and preoccupied her thoughts during the day. The soft but firm feel of his lips . . . the delicious taste of his tongue as it teased hers . . . Thinking about that kiss swiftly resurrected an ache deep inside her—an emptiness she’d become all too familiar with over the last two weeks.

  The days continued to pass with amiable politeness. They’d quickly settled into a routine that basically consisted of Cole accompanying her everywhere she went. He was taking this threat seriously, not that she wasn’t. The mystery of how Carter had gotten her number had been solved easily enough when she’d gone to her parents’ house the next morning and discovered he’d stopped by to “visit” them the night before, looking for Katie. Her number was in their address book by the phone. No doubt he’d gotten it from there when they hadn’t been looking. She’d changed her number right away, which had immediately put an end to the harassing calls and threatening texts. But as much as she wished it otherwise, in her heart she knew the issue with Carter was far from finished.

  Although Cole never seemed to be far physically—he took his self-appointed guardianship very seriously—the reserved distance at which he held himself since that kiss in the kitchen had become annoyingly inscrutable. Especially when Katie was finding herself making excuses to seek him out. Not that Cole wasn’t easy to find. When they weren’t doing his therapy twice a day—which she secretly looked forward to, welcoming the opportunity to touch him without consequence—Cole was most likely in the gym, whether at her work, or at home. He worked out incessantly, as if driven by an invisible demon he couldn’t seem to escape. The fevered pitch of his training bordered on madness.

  Before now, she’d never realized how much time and effort it took to keep a fighter’s body honed and conditioned. But Cole was living proof of what one could attain through dedication and perseverance. He was making great strides in his recovery, moving around with much greater ease and fluidity. He’d abandoned one of his crutches altogether¸ and if it weren’t for his tendency to favor that left leg, he wouldn’t need to be using them at all. At the rate he was improving, no doubt it would hasten his return home—a thought that sat ill with her, and not just his absence would leave her vulnerable. The thought of Cole going home and returning to his old life, as if none of this ever mattered—as if she had never mattered—made Katie’s heart ache.

  She couldn’t count the number of times in the past two weeks she’d been tempted to sneak across the hall. But in the end, her fears always won out. So instead, she contented herself with countless hours of what-if fantasies.

  Even now, she was hard-pressed to focus on the task at hand. She’d been staring at Mr. Johanson’s chart for the last five minutes in restless anticipation of Cole’s two-o’clock therapy appointment. How much longer could she get away with accidentally touching his ass and brushing her breasts against his arm? How high up his thigh could her hands accidently ride before—

  The knock on the door startled her from her musing—dream of the devil . . . “Hey there, I was just thinking about you.” She smiled, glancing up from her computer to the doorway. The upturn of her lips immediately fell, her heart plummeting into her stomach. Her gut churned, immediately rejecting the fullness, threatening to throw it up. Oh, my God!

  “Hello, Katrina.”

  Lesson number one: never make a promise you can’t keep, and Cole was having one hell of a time sticking to his. He wanted Katie more than he’d ever wanted another woman in his life, and it was killing him—literally. In the last two weeks, Cole had worked his body into a continual state of self-preserving exhaustion. Even when he’d been in camps training for a fight, he’d never poured so many hours into such grueling exercise. But it was the only way he could stay focused and keep his head clear. Avoiding the temptation by removing himself from the source, while maintaining a close enough proximity to ensure Katie’s safety, was proving to be a damn difficult task.

  Each day that passed without incident, Cole could see her guard lowering, the tension in her shoulders easing. And damn if those bright, carefree smiles she’d occasionally cast his way didn’t get him right in the heart. It pleased him to know his presence made her feel safe; her peace of mind was priceless—though it was coming at the high cost of his own. But it was worth it. Those rare moments when her carefully guarded walls slipped, he’d get a glimpse of the woman she used to be, the woman she still could become with the right encouragement—and damn if he didn’t want to be that guy for her.

  Unfortunately, Cole had a six-figure contract and a title that demanded otherwise. And he’d do well to remember that, a fact he was having more and more difficulty reconciling when he thought of leaving her and returning to his old life. He wasn’t sure which suited him more: the anonymity and slower pace of life in a rural town, or sharing his days with a woman who was both gorgeous and intelligent. A rare combination of traits he’d yet to find in the circles he usually ran. Not that they couldn’t be found, he supposed; Cole had just never been that lucky. He enjoyed Katie’s company more than he ought to. The Marcus connection had provided a solid foundation in which something much stronger had begun to develop—something Cole purposefully ignored, though he feared if things kept continuing at this pace, he would eventually break. A man could only resist temptation for so long.

  His twice-daily PT sessions were pure torture, delicious torture, but they killed him all the same. He swore to God if her breasts brushed against his arm, or those skillful delicate fingers accidentally rode up his thigh one more time . . .

  Cole glanced up at the clock as he pulled down the bar attached to a weighted pulley—2:05. Katie was late. She was never late for his sessions. If anything, she was early—never missing an opportunity to inflict some torment.

  Perhaps she’d lost track of time. When they’d had lunch in the cafeteria, she’d mentioned needing office time to catch up on her charts. Her twelve thirty had canceled, so she’d kept the a
fternoon open to get some paperwork done. It was only a few minutes. She’d be along soon.

  When another five minutes came and went, an odd niggling of unease crept up Cole’s spine. He released the bar, letting the weights clap back into place, and rose to go check on her. Tucking his single crutch beneath his left arm, he crossed the gym, using it mostly for backup in case his left leg fatigued. It wasn’t quite as strong as the right yet, but it was coming along faster than he’d expected—a credit to Katie’s amazing skill. Give it another week and he should be walking solo.

  Cole had just stepped into the hall when he heard Katie’s voice. “What are you doing here?”

  The brittleness in her tone brought every protective instinct Cole possessed firing to life. He couldn’t see inside her office from this angle, but the tension in her voice alerted him to danger.

  “I’m here for therapy. It seems that’s the only way I’m going to get you to talk to me.”

  The snark in that deep male voice conveyed aggression, which fueled Cole’s: a healthy dose of his own testosterone flooded his veins. Stepping into the doorway, he moved up behind the guy hovering inside Katie’s office. “Is there a problem here?”

  He cast Katie a brief glance, noting the stark relief on her hauntingly pale face, before turning his full attention to the man filling her small office space. Cole recognized him from the bar. Now that he was getting an up close and personal look at the guy, his memory made the connection with the Packers. Carter fucking Owens . . .

  The guy stood maybe a couple of inches shorter than Cole, but he was a solid twenty pounds heavier. He was big and bulky—steroid bulky. His muscles lacked definition and tone, but he was a bear of a man nonetheless.

  “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, making a sweeping glower over Cole.

  Cole wasn’t intimidated, nor was he impressed by the badass scowl Carter leveled at him. He’d been in enough weigh-ins and had had enough guys staring him down that peacocking bullshit didn’t faze him. In fact, he’d discovered over the years that the more they preened, the more they were posing. It was the silent, flat-affected ones you had to watch out for. Those guys would knock your head off if you weren’t careful.

  “Carter, this is Cole Easton—my patient,” Katie offered, when Cole didn’t.

  Her patient? Oh really? So that’s what this was?—good to know. Cole would have sworn they were more than that—unless maybe she felt up all her patients. Were it not for Katie’s obvious discomfort, he might have taken offense at her swift dismissal of their—admittedly complicated—relationship. Cole shifted his weight, leaning his shoulder against the doorway, taking his weight off that damn aching left leg. When neither he nor Carter spoke, engaging in a weigh-in-worthy stare-down, Katie broke the mounting silence.

  “Cole is an MMA fighter currently holding the CFA light-heavyweight title.”

  He detected the note of pride in her voice and knew it for the warning it was. Cole wanted nothing more than to sink his fist into this bastard’s jaw, and it wouldn’t take much provocation to make that happen.

  The man crossed his arms over his beefy chest and cocked an arrogant brow. “Is that right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Where do you come from?”

  “Vegas.” Cole kept his stance loose, which in no way meant his guard was down. He braced against her doorjamb, standing to his full height, while keeping his sole attention focused on the man in front of him—the man he wanted nothing more than to pound the shit out of. As tempted as he was to glance over and check on Katie, he wouldn’t risk giving that prick the edge of a surprise attack, or chance him seeing Cole’s concern for her.

  “Awfully far from home, aren’t ya?”

  Cole shrugged. “I wanted the best. She’s it.”

  Seconds ticked by with Carter just staring at him. “Are you fucking her?”

  Katie gasped, her sharp intake of air sounding wholly offended.

  Cole’s jaw clenched. The release of adrenaline flooding his veins burned through his muscles, stringing the corded bands tight. He shoved away from the door frame with his shoulder and took a measured step forward. “If I was, it sure as hell wouldn’t be any of your business.” Before he could close the space, getting within striking distance, Katie shot around the desk, jumping between him and her ex.

  “Cole, don’t do it,” she quietly implored, pressing herself up against his body. “That’s what he wants. He wants you to hit him so he can have you arrested.”

  If it weren’t for the fact he’d be leaving Katie alone and vulnerable, it might have been worth it—correction, it definitely would have been worth it. Cole slipped his arm around Katie’s waist, tucking her into his good side. The protective gesture was more than enough to wipe that shit-eating grin off that fucker’s face. His eyes hardened, narrowing with murderous rage. Cole met his glare full-on with one of equal censure and growled. “Careful, Owens, I hit a hell of a lot harder than a woman.”

  Carter’s eyes flickered to Katie, the dig hitting home as the realization dawned on him that Cole knew the truth. As if seeking the reassurance of his strength, Katie slipped her arms around his waist, clinging tightly to his side, and implored, “Please, leave me alone, Carter. It’s over.”

  He glared at her as if she had betrayed him—as if somehow this were her fault, which made Cole question this man’s sanity. “I tried, Katie.” He held his hands up in surrender and moved a step toward her. As Carter advanced, Cole pivoted, pulling Katie behind him. “I tried to make things right, but you just won’t listen.” He started to leave, then paused at the door, turning back to glower at her. “This is on you now. Because I promise, it is far from over.”

  Carter turned to leave. A low growl tore from Cole’s throat as he lunged for the door. He didn’t give a fuck if he got arrested or not. He’d get out of jail well before that bastard got out of the hospital. But Katie clung to Cole’s waist, struggling to hold him back. Without the full use of his left leg, and dragging her across the floor, it slowed him down just enough for that piece of shit to make a hasty retreat. Son of a bitch! “You stay the fuck away from her, Owens!” Cole roared, his voice booming down the hall. “You hear me? You stay the fuck away from her!”

  Cole was vaguely aware of the petite body crushed up against him, clinging to his side. Her shaking finally caught his attention, her tears dampening his shirt, hot moisture searing his flesh. He looked down to find Katie’s face buried into his chest, her shoulders wracked with sobs. She’d tried so hard to hold herself together. Now that Carter was gone, that strong façade crumbled, leaving in its wake the aftermath of her terror.

  “Shh . . .” he crooned, wrapping his arms around her slender back, pulling her tight against him. She fit so damn perfectly, like she’d been made just for him. The invisible band around his chest squeezed, making it difficult to breathe. His heart ached from the pressure.

  “You’re all right. Everything’s going to be fine.” The vow tumbled from his lips with more assurance than he felt. Cole had known her asshole ex was crazy, and hearing stories was one thing, but to see it face-to-face was quite another. It was only a matter of time before that bastard snapped, and God help this woman if she was in his path.

  Marcus was right in wanting to get her out of here—by whatever means necessary. But to what end? She couldn’t keep running forever. At least here, she had him to keep her safe. Bottom line: as long as that bastard was sucking air, he would to be a threat to Katie. Which didn’t leave Cole a whole hell of a lot of options.

  Her sobs had quieted to the hitching-breath kind, the ones that accompanied sporadic hiccups. She looked so damn fragile, huddled in his arms, her own, wrapped tightly around him, clinging with a desperation that stole the breath from his lungs.

  “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go home.”

  She nodded her consent into his chest, but made no attempt to move. He wanted to get her out of here—get her home. Home . . . the thought resonated with h
im as did the inexplicable desire to protect her. It wasn’t out of any obligation to Marcus that he cared for her, though Lord knew, he owed the man that much. This . . . thing . . . growing between him and Katie was a different sort of beast altogether. The desire he felt for her was like a living, breathing force, something he was becoming hard-pressed to control.

  The tenderness he felt toward her tugged at his heart. Since he’d never been in love, he had no reference to compare such emotions. But whatever it was he felt for Katie, the emotions were raw and visceral, and not entirely pleasant or welcomed. They made him feel vulnerable and exposed in ways he’d never experienced before—and he didn’t like it. Yet there were those times when she’d give him a look from across the room, or curl up beside him on the couch during a rare moment when he wasn’t killing himself in the gym, and he’d get a glimpse of what his life could have been like had he taken a different path and settled down.

  Since meeting Katie, Cole was continually at odds with himself. He didn’t want this complication, yet he wanted her—with an unquenchable need. He wanted to protect her, to take care of her, to love her . . . to make love to her and claim her for his own. And after witnessing her encounter with Carter, it brought all those emotions he’d been trying to bury bubbling up to the surface.

  Cole’s body stirred in response to her innocent touch. His blood heated, pooling in his groin. Despite his efforts to control his lust, he felt himself hardening against her. The light, lavender scent of her skin, the feel of her breasts crushed against his chest . . . God help him, he wanted this woman. If he didn’t put some distance between them, she’d soon be feeling the evidence of his arousal digging into her hip.

  Cole gently untangled himself from Katie’s tentative grasp and took a step back. Framing her face in his hands, she met his stare as he dried her tear-stained cheeks with his thumbs. The urge to dip his head and taste her lips was nearly too great a temptation to resist. But he wouldn’t take advantage of her like this. She was shaken and vulnerable, turning to him for comfort—not seduction—and considering what happened the last time he’d kissed Katie, Cole knew all too well how quickly he could lose control with her. The last thing he needed to do was frighten her more than she already was. He’d promised her he wouldn’t touch her again—told her she could trust him to protect her. And he’d be damned if he was going to stand here and prove himself a liar.