Deadly Game (GhostWalkers #5)(63)
Author: Christine Feehan

Again her soft laughter swept through him. Tears burned in his eyes and in the back of his throat. Damn her. She was killing him with her acceptance of him. He couldn’t accept himself—how could she? He was going to fall in love with her. It was a long, hard fall and scary as hell. It didn’t make sense and he didn’t want it to happen. What the hell was she going to be getting out of the bargain?

Mari? It wasn’t just sex.

Her heart accelerated. She knew Whitney would be puzzled over that spike, but Ken made her feel alive again in a way she hadn’t in a long time. He gave her hope—and she needed hope right then.

If it wasn’t just sex, what was it? Because I don’t know what to think. None of the men paired with any of the women appear to feel emotional about them, other than possessive. They could care less whether or not we derive any pleasure from them touching us. What happened between us seemed more than something Whitney did, or was I reading more into it than there was?

She waited for his answer, her mouth suddenly dry. She barely felt the doctor’s probing fingers as he poked at her. It seemed he spent more time examining the bruises and red marks on her skin than the gun wound or wrist break, but Ken’s answer was more important than her modesty. She held her breath—waiting.

You know damn well it was much more. I’m not hiding anything from you, as much as I want to. Screw Whitney. He doesn’t have anything to do with us anymore. Ken rubbed his hand over his face and sighed again. Maybe he did at first. Maybe his manipulation allowed you to accept me sexually when you might have been afraid of me.

Mari turned it over in her mind. Was that the truth? She’d wanted him—yes—but there was so much more to her feelings than that. The decision had definitely been hers and it hadn’t been all about sex. So what was it that drew her emotionally to him? How had they connected so fast and so strong? I don’t think so, Ken. I really don’t. You’re right. Whatever is between us isn’t about Whitney.

He ached to hold her in his arms. I’m not a good man—I’m never going to be. You have to know that going into this. I wouldn’t give you up once you belonged to me.

What does that mean, Ken? You don’t know if you would be happy with me. Neither of us has any idea what the future would be like. I can’t conceive of being out of this place. The idea is frightening. I wouldn’t know the first thing about living in the real world. How can you possibly know what you would or wouldn’t do if we were together.

Because you represent hope, Mari. I gave up my life a long time ago and everything that entailed, including sex. You handed it all back to me and I’m just not man enough to walk away from temptation.

Hope. Mari liked the word. And she liked the idea of being someone’s hope. Maybe that’s what their strange relationship was all about. Mari had never had hope—not even when she went out with her team to talk to the senator. Peter Whitney seemed so invincible. No one could ever defeat him, especially not Senator Freeman. He’d never bested Whitney in an argument. But Ken had somehow made her feel different. He’d given her a taste of freedom.

Ken swore in her ear. I’d never give you freedom. Mari, think about this, think about what I am. I’d be possessive and jealous and want you in my sight every minute of every day. I’d be terrified of losing you. And I’d want to touch you, eat you alive, kiss you endlessly, and take you whenever I wanted, which, by the way, would be all the time.

I told you not to talk that way. You’ll get me hot. She tried not to flinch as the doctor touched her breast, supposedly to get a better angle with the camera, but his fingers lingered.

Ken froze, anger bursting through him like a volcano spilling lava. He could make it inside past all the security. He could make it inside and slit the doctor’s throat and then go after Whitney. He was a GhostWalker and few could detect them, let alone stop them.

No. Calm down. Seriously, Ken, it’s no big deal. Mari was lying. She hated this humiliation, but she tried to breathe through it and concentrate solely on him. As long as she was talking to him, she wasn’t thinking about what they were doing to her. And if she didn’t think about it, neither would he. Keep talking to me. I don’t want you cutting throats. You’re so violent.

He was a violent man. Didn’t she understand that? He almost groaned in frustration. He couldn’t change what or who he was—not even for her. He barely hung on to his sanity at times. His ugly childhood had shaped him, and his father had given him a dark legacy of jealousy coupled with a strong sex drive. Ekabela had added layers to the darkness and rage, so that it grew until it threatened to consume him. He had hidden it well, even from Jack, but it was there, crouching like a beast, waiting to destroy him and anyone who dared to love him.

And how could she really love him? He could tie her to him with sex, he knew he could, but how could she look at his face every day of her life and love him? How could she know what he was and still feel anything but fear and contempt for him?

Even my children would run from me, Mari, and I couldn’t blame them. Was he actually feeling sorry for himself? Was he that pitiful when she was stretched out on an exam table? Damn him to hell for his selfishness. He wanted her with her laughter and her acceptance. He wanted her to love him in spite of the scars on his soul that showed so clearly on his body.

Now you’re just being silly. A child would love you, Ken. You only think you don’t show tenderness, but I feel it every time I touch your mind. You’ve shown me more respect and given me so much more than I ever had, and you can’t know how much that means. If I don’t get out, I’ll never regret being with you. Whitney can take a lot of things away from me, but he can’t take what you gave me.

Okay. He was going to hell. That’s all there was to it. Because he wasn’t going to be noble and give her up. No way. How could the universe hand him someone so perfect and then expect him to give her back? She had enough tolerance and compassion, and enough courage, for both of them.

She knew how to love. How had she learned to love when it was never given to her? Briefly, he’d had his mother and always he’d had Jack, but Mari’s twin had been taken from her and Mari had been raised without her sister in cold, stark, laboratory conditions. She humbled him with her ability to give such unconditional acceptance.

He felt her mind jerk away from his, suddenly aware of the doctor probing her most intimate parts. He could feel the disgust and humiliation rising, the utter distaste as the man probed deeper and moved his hand inside of her. Abruptly she tried to cut Ken off, doing her best to shield him from what was happening to her. Bile rose in his throat. The one person he should be able to protect—and he had to lie still covered in leaves and twigs, and let them torture her. He gave her the only thing he could, although it cost him a great deal of what was left of his pride.