Murder Game (GhostWalkers #7)(22)
Author: Christine Feehan

She nodded slowly, knowing she could never resist him, pushing aside every thought of the morning and what she would have to face. There was only this night for them. This one night, and she was taking it for herself.

He carried her to the sleeping bag, grateful it wasn’t far. His legs were rubbery and he doubted he had much strength left. Her eyes were enormous, and he found that peculiar shine very sexy, or maybe that was just his body reacting to her scent and heat. He laid her down and followed close, massaging her shoulders and neck. That soft, vulnerable neck.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“You make me feel beautiful.” She loved the feel of his fingers on her skin. There was a brushing stroke he used that sent the most amazing electrical sensation sizzling through her body. “How do you do that?”

“That’s classified.”

Tansy looked up at his face, so still and chiseled and masculine. So serious. She burst out laughing. “Your lovemaking ought to be classified too. You’ve worn me out.”

“Have I?” His hands shaped her br**sts, cupping the soft weight of them. “We’re not finished by a long shot, Tansy,” he whispered softly as he lowered his head to flick her nipple with his tongue. One hand slid along her thigh to rest on her mound. “You don’t feel like you’re worn out.” One finger slipped into her wet channel and her muscles instantly reacted, clamping down hard. He leaned into her, blowing warm air across her breast. “No, baby, you want more. You feel very much like you want to start all over again.”

He turned her body onto her side, spilling her breast into his mouth. They lay on top of the sleeping bag under the stars, his arm around her waist and one hand nestled between her legs.

Tansy cradled his head to her, her fingers stroking through his hair. Each time his tongue or teeth grazed or flicked her nipple, a flood of liquid heat bathed his fingers. She did want to start all over again. She had one night with him. She wanted to learn everything, do everything, make this night last forever. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of his mouth at her breast.

Chapter 5

Tansy woke to the smell of coffee. She kept her eyes closed tight, not wanting to face what she’d done throughout the night. The man may have been exhausted, but Kadan had given her everything she could ever have wished for and more. Sharing mind and body was an experience she’d never thought she’d ever have, and one far beyond anything her imagination could have conjured up. But now she had to face the light of day and what she’d done. Just about everything one could do—and with a stranger.

How could she ever look Kadan Montague in the eye? Would he expect her to just follow him down the trail into hell, now that she’d allowed seduction? Because she’d been a willing participant—she couldn’t deny that, even to herself. Especially to herself.

She risked a glance at him and her heart nearly stopped. He was calmly breaking camp. Most of her things were packed, and even as she watched, he’d already opened her locked camera case and extracted her precious cameras and footage as if he owned them. The pounding in her heart roared in her ears. What had she done?

We can do this the hard way. He had warned her. She could never say he hadn’t warned her. She’d allowed him to talk her into coming back to camp on her own. He’d used her own nature against her. Hell, he’d studied her, he’d admitted that. He knew exactly which buttons to push, and he’d pushed them by revealing the childhood story he’d never shared with anyone else. How stupid could she get? It probably wasn’t true. She wanted to weep for her own stupidity, but there was another side that was furious at the deception.

Give the girl a night to remember. He’d been in her head. He knew how alone she’d felt, how different. She’d practically climbed all over him. Tansy suppressed a groan. She couldn’t, for one moment, blame him. He’d warned her from the beginning he meant to take her back. He was ruthless, willing to use whatever means were available to him—and she’d opened the door for him to use sex. Damn him. Damn her. Now she had to figure a way out, because she wasn’t going anywhere with him.

Kadan kept his head down as he methodically packed Tansy’s things. It was possible she didn’t realize that the more they used telepathic communication, the easier it became to slip in and out of each other’s mind. He had been reluctant to separate himself from her. He couldn’t remember lying with a woman in his arms and feeling utterly content—at peace. Whole. And now she was lying there, regretting their night together, the night that meant the world to him. What did he expect? Her to come to him open, with a huge, happy smile?

Her thoughts were raw and self-accusing. He knew exactly which buttons to push, and he’d pushed them by revealing the childhood story he’d never shared with anyone else. She wanted to weep for her own stupidity, but there was another side that was furious at the deception.

Deception? Anger and hurt wrapped up so tight he couldn’t tell one from the other. Kadan, the GhostWalker with ice in his veins, felt the burst of temper rush through his system, and he turned toward Tansy, reaching into his pocket.

“Hey! Catch!” Deliberately Kadan flicked the small game piece he’d found at the last crime scene through the air toward her.

The object gleamed in the early morning sunlight as it came toward Tansy’s head. She reached up in one quick motion and snagged it out of the air just as she caught his thought.

Damn me for trusting you. I told you the one thing about me not another living person knows, and you believe I used it to get you in bed. There was fury, but more than that, there was hurt.

She’d hurt him. Her fingers closed around the smooth edges of the object he’d thrown to her, and her heart sank as vicious, violent energy greedily swarmed over and into her. She tried to drop the game piece, but it was already far too late. Worse, she hadn’t prepared herself. She heard herself scream, deep inside where no one could hear, as oil poured into her mind, slick and black and filled with sludge, carrying the weight of the dead and dying, the pleas and protests, the begging voices, the sickness that rose with the dark stench of blood. Kadan had said the blood was like a second skin, but it was worse than that, it seeped inside through her pores, until blood was inside her mind, sticking to everything she was, every part of her soul, dripping like wax off a candle and fusing with her like a hot weld.

Kadan heard screaming, the cry of an anguished animal, filled with pain, with agony, but she was completely mute, the blue gone from her eyes to be wholly replaced by the silver violet shine. Eyes of glass. His stomach lurched as he flung the bag he was packing onto the table and raced to her, gripping her hand, prying at her fingers. “Drop it! Drop it now.”