What He Resists (What He Wants, Book Nine) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) by Hannah Ford

 
 
 
    WHAT HE
RESISTS (WHAT HE WANTS, BOOK NINE)
    by
Hannah Ford

 
    Copyright 2015, Hannah Ford, all rights
reserved.   This book is a work of fiction,
and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 
 
 
    CHARLOTTE

 
    It was two hours before I was able to
peel myself off the floor.
    I dragged myself to the shower, hoping it
would wash off the night and the trauma of what had just happened – both
at Force and after. The steam from the water brought down the puffiness of my
eyes, and opened my sinuses so that I felt like I could breath again.
    But instead of making me feel better, all
it did was allow a fresh batch of tears to overtake me.   I’d thought I was all cried out, but my
body and my heart proved otherwise as the sobs overwhelmed me once again,
causing me to rest my forehead against the cool smoothness of the mosaic tiles
that lined the shower.
    I was too exhausted to attempt something
as easy as washing my hair, so instead, I just let the water wash over me until
my skin was pruned and the room was so filled with steam I could barely see.
    I thought briefly about tending to my cut
– I’d ripped off the gauze before I’d gotten into the shower – but
I didn’t care enough to make the effort.
    I fell into bed.
    But I didn’t sleep.
    The room was pitch black, the shades the
kind that didn’t allow any light in.
    The sounds of the city did their best to
invade through the silence, but they were reduced to background noise this far
up from the street.
    I existed in a weird dreamlike state,
halfway between wake and sleep, letting the muted sounds and the darkness lull
me into a half-sleep, where I wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t.
    But at six am, there was a hard knock on
the door that caused me to bolt upright in bed.  
    I rushed to the door, grabbing a robe out
of the closet on the way and throwing it on.
    Noah.
    It had to be.
    But when I flung open the door, the
hallway was empty, except for a room service cart sitting there unattended.
    I opened the metal domes.   Pancakes.   Fruit.   Bacon.   Eggs.
    I hadn’t ordered anything, which meant it
must have been a standing order, one Noah had placed to be delivered at six am
every morning when his suite was occupied.   I stared down at the food, the smell of it making me want to
dry heave.
    I hated that it was meant for him, hated
that he had such control over everything in his life that even his food would
just show up, perfectly prepared, without him needing to do anything.
    And then I noticed something else.  
    Next to the room service cart were two
sleek black bags – one was a standing suitcase, the other a laptop bag.
    I picked up the suitcase and tipped it
over on its side, then unzipped it.   Inside were the clothes I’d been keeping at Noah’s.   All of them had been washed and neatly
folded -- no doubt by some faceless housekeeper or assistant -- before being
laid carefully inside.  
    I knew without even opening it that I’d
find my computer in the other bag, but I unzipped it anyway, just to be sure.
    My laptop was there, along with a shiny
new iPhone.
    I took out the phone.   All my contacts had been migrated onto
it, along with all of my text messages and music.   Noah had somehow figured out a way to not only get me a new
phone, but to make sure it was set up with everything I’d had on my old one.
    I had felt weak lying in bed just a
moment ago – the crying had zapped my energy and depleted my strength.
    But it was a trick.
    I wasn’t weak.
    My strength wasn’t gone.
    He’d tried to take it.
    But I wasn’t going to let him.
    I reached down and grabbed the room
service cart, and then, with a powerful scream, I tipped it over.   Plates crashed to the floor, glasses
shattered, and food spilled everywhere.  
    I’d given him a night to make me feel
helpless.
    And now I was done.

 
    ***

 
    The first thing I did was shower, for
real this time, using the