Deadly Game (GhostWalkers #5)(93)
Author: Christine Feehan

“But Briony made this place a home, not only for Jack, but for you. I can see that she did. She’s every bit as much your family as Jack is.”

“She lights up Jack’s world, Mari,” he said, trying to follow her train of thought. “Don’t you want me to care for her?”

“Of course I do. You should, but I can’t be like her. I have no idea what to do. I don’t even have clothes, Ken. I’m just here with absolutely nothing.”

He lifted her chin and brushed her soft mouth with his. She sounded so distressed that he felt distressed. “You don’t have to do or have anything. I want you, Mari, not clothes or a servant.”

“Shouldn’t I be putting flowers in a vase? Or pretending to cook dinner?” She looked totally alarmed. “I have no idea how to cook. I’ve never cooked. Never. This isn’t going to work, Ken.”

He realized she was totally panic-stricken. She was staring at the bookshelves and the cases of music. Ken kissed her again. “Do you think that matters? And you can’t put flowers in a vase if I haven’t gotten them for you, can you? Tomorrow we can go into town and get you enough clothes to fill the closet and dresser if that’s what you want. And I’ll buy flowers and a vase, and we’ll put the damn things in it together. None of it really matters to me.”

“Maybe not now, this minute, but sometime you’ll want me to know how to run a household.” She felt totally inadequate thinking about all the things she didn’t know how to do—but that her sister did. Her sister was a stranger to her, had lived in a loving family, not a military barracks. Cami! I need you. Oh, God, what have I done? Panic was new to her. She hadn’t panicked when she was captured. She hadn’t panicked when she was shot, but standing in a real home surrounded by everything unfamiliar to her . . .

“If you want to run it, you’ll figure it out; if not, well, it’s been just fine for years now.”

She clung to him, her confidence shaken. “I’ve never decided when to go to bed at night. Lights out at eleven, unless I’ve caused trouble, and then it’s nine or ten.”

“You can stay up all night, sweetheart.”

“I’ve never been allowed out of my room after nine.”

“If you feel like driving to California, we’ll hop in the car and go. Or if you just want to go into the kitchen and get a piece of fresh fruit, do it.”

“And sit outside on the front porch?” She clenched her teeth together to keep them from chattering. She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Ken, but she couldn’t stay. This wasn’t her. It would never be her. She belonged with her sisters—the women who knew what life with Whitney was all about.

“All night, Mari. Briony likes the roof, although Jack gets a little bent now that she’s really showing. But if it’s the roof, I’m up there with you. It’s one of my favorite spots. And there are trees to climb and trails to hike. Have you ever ridden a bike?”

She shook her head, a fresh flood of tears filling her eyes. “Little children ride bikes and I can’t even do that. I’ve never been on a horse either.”

“We’ve got mountain bikes. I’ll teach you.”

“It’s frightening. I keep thinking about the others, my sisters out there right now, wondering how to make a decision like these. Whitney even maintained our diets for us. I detest taking vitamins.” She watched him closely for a reaction.

“I mix mine in the blender with a killer recipe of fruit and juice your sister told me about, but if you don’t want to take vitamins, then don’t. More than half the population of the world doesn’t. You have the right to make your own decisions on everything, honey.” Ken rested his chin on top of her head. “Unless it comes to personal safety; then my instincts are going to take over and I’m going to be calling the shots.”

“Or other men.” She had to find a way to cope. She had to or she was going to run as fast and as far as she could.

He nearly choked. “We’re not even going there. My heart can’t take it. Our relationship is exclusive to the two of us. Marriage. Husband and wife. Partnership. Team. I can deal with all of the above, but not another man.”

“So there are rules,” she persisted, her stomach settling as she deliberately provoked him.

“Well, sure. Even Jack and I have rules with living on the same property. It’s a matter of respect.”

“So no relationship has two men and one woman.”

“Not ours.” He was decisive.

“But there are some,” she persisted. “Because, you know, there might be some advantages . . .”

He held her at arm’s length, looking down at her upturned face. There was laughter in her dark eyes, the distress fading as she teased him. “That isn’t funny.” But it was impossible not to smile when she was smiling.

“You deserved it. You’re an idiot, you know that? Why do you keep thinking I want other men in my life? I don’t even like men. Well,” she corrected, “most men.”

“So you were teasing me just to get a rise out of me.”

“It was easy. You’re too easy.”

“That’s just wrong, Mari,” he said and bent to take possession of her mouth. She tasted of freedom, sweet and fresh like a summer rain. His arms locked her to him, and his mouth moved over hers, tugging at her lower lip, the one that was so full and sexy and drove him wild whenever he looked at her.

“I love looking at you.” He whispered it, but then switched to a much more intimate form of communication, his mind sliding against hers like the melding of one soul into the other. And touching your skin. You’re so soft, baby, and warm.

She couldn’t respond, because he was taking her breath right into his lungs, bringing her body to life with just his mouth and teeth and tongue. He could create a whirlwind that swept her away from her life and into another one filled with love and passion and family. All with a kiss. Ken, with his scars and hidden demons, with his vulnerability and intense heat, was an exciting blend of gentle and rough. How could she ever think to want another man?

Her arms slipped around his neck, and she pressed her body into his, wanting to share his skin, to relieve the fierce tension that always was beneath the calm surface. He made her feel as if she were the only woman in the world, the only one he ever saw or wanted or needed. She returned his kisses, letting his mouth guide hers.