Page 106 of Resistant

My body reacts to him often now when he feeds me or pulls me into his lap. I lay my head on his shoulder and listen to the rumble of his voice through his chest. The coffee is strong and sweet, and I lick the buttered toast from his fingers. He growls, I see a flash of teeth as he smiles at me and he kisses me hard, bruising my lips and sending a thrill of excitement pulsing in my core.

Instead of taking me to his bed, he bundles me in the car with a thick quilt and climbs in after me. I snuggle into his shoulder, holding his arm and sleep for most of the drive.

***

I feel the world tilt and look at his hard jaw as he carries me into a grand hotel lobby.

The sounds of many people surrounding us has crept into my mind; and gunshots explode outside along with sirens and shouting. I tense up and look fearfully into Knox’s face.

“It’s alright ma lagniappe, I’m here.” He whispers. I feel a light kiss on my temple. We enter a large hotel room, and he places me in a chair. His lips travel softly over my face, and I feel myself bristle marginally at his attention. He hands me a mug of tea and I relax.

“Ma lagniappe, I’ll be next door. You have your own room; I have business to attend to and your team will be in and out helping you dress. Tonight, is very important, but I know you will be a good girl for me.”

I nod at him silently. He smiles, a beautiful show of teeth that lights up his face. He turns to speak to someone, and I don’t hear his words.

I can feel Mr. Anderson, my shadow, watching my every move. I ignore him and the stream of stylists who arrive and set to work. The hours pass by, and Knox does not return.

The stylists seem extremely concerned that I’m not happy with their efforts and I notice a young black man studying me often. He’s gorgeous in a quiet way, and I study his concerned expression while they all fuss over me. He doesn’t speak, but I can hear his mind calling to me, to surface, to be Brynn. They help me slip on my shoes, and I smile weakly.

“Thank you for your help. I’m sure Mr. Swann will be pleased when he sees what you have accomplished.”

The man holds my fingers in his and looks at me with worry swimming in his eyes.

“Sweetheart, be sure to play your part. I’d hate to see our work ruined if Mr. Swann gets angry with you.”

I hear Mr. Anderson shuffle behind me, and I turn to look over my shoulder, but he has his back to me. He turns around and helps me up, my heels tottering a little underneath me. He guides me out of the hotel room. I almost don’t hear him when he leans in close.

“Cinderella ready for the ball and to find her prince?”

I shrug and give him a lame smile. He pats my hand. I see his personality slide away from him as the smile leaves his face and the secret service persona returns. His fingers touch almost imperceptibly at the small of my back and he leads me through the lobby and into the gardens. A large convention center sits on the opposite side of the garden, the sound of cheery voices and distant music float through. I feel nerves begin to somersault in my belly. I don’t want to disappoint Knox. There will be so many people, it’s overwhelming.

“Mr. Swann will meet you at the event. I’ll stay with you every minute until he collects you.”

“Okay, thank you.”

We wait in the lobby, and Mr. Anderson hands me a drink.

“For your nerves.”

I slam the liquor back and relish the burn that travels from my throat to my belly.

People are entering from all directions, and I even see others climbing a spiral staircase to sit in the upper galley.

Mr. Anderson jerks his chin at someone, and I turn to see who he’s communicating with, but only catch a man’s backside in a perfectly fitting tuxedo. I feel a hand grasp my elbow, and I don’t have to look to know that Knox has arrived. Mr. Anderson steps back and disappears into the crowd.

“You look stunning Angel.” I feel his lips trace the shell of my ear and I shudder. I feel a tick in my jaw, almost like irritation which makes me pause, because it doesn’t make sense. I love it when Knox calls me his angel. He guides me down a red carpet and we stop at the entrance.

An elderly man in full livery takes a card from Knox and pronounces,

“Senator Lennox Richards, and his Brynn Evans!”

A smattering of applause erupts in the room my back stiffens at the title read for Knox. Where did the name Richards come from, and suddenly theSenatortitle sinks in. Since when? I can feel my face heat from confusion and attention. It feels like every set of eyes in the room is on me at this moment.

“Smile, Brynn. You are the star of the show tonight. Be kind and attentive, all will be well.”

Knox guides me to a table, a placard with my name sits on my plate and I pick it up and thumb the gilded cardstock.

I feel disconnected from the name on the placard, and I notice that Knox has a place right next to me.

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