Murder Game (GhostWalkers #7)(58)
Author: Christine Feehan

You never have to worry about that, baby. I’ll always come back to you. And God help them both, he meant it.

Reluctantly he lifted his head, searching her eyes for a moment, needing to feel the connection between them when, without her touch, he felt so much empty space between him and his emotions. He couldn’t quite bridge that gap without her.

Tansy tugged at his shirt. “Take it off. I need to see.”

If she’d said she wanted to see, he might have ignored her, but the need in her voice, in her mind, in the stark admission, had him pulling the shirt one-handed over his head and removing the vest. His chest was one black and purple bruise.

Behind him, Sharon gasped. “Watson was going to shoot me,” she whispered, her fingers going to her trembling lips. “I saw him aim for my head. I didn’t realize he shot you.”

Tansy closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers barely touching the massive bruise on his chest. For my mother?

She knew he didn’t believe in her parents’ innocence.

You took this for my mother? She looked up at him, love and awe mixed in her expression with pride and something so sexy he wanted to throw her on the floor and bury himself deep.

Kadan was so out of his depth he didn’t know how to respond. Hell no, he hadn’t done it for her mother—he’d taken the bullet for her. For Tansy. Okay, maybe it had been instinctive on his part, protecting the package, but if he had to think about it, he’d say the risk was all for his woman. He was so far from a saint it wasn’t funny, but if taking a bullet made her look at him like he was the best man in the world, he’d do it again.

It’s nothing, Tansy. I’m perfectly fine. He skimmed his mouth from the corner of her eye to the corner of her mouth, scowled, touched his tongue to the side of her mouth, and pulled back with suspicion at the coppery flavor.

“What have you been doing?”

She couldn’t help the small guilty look she shot Tucker and Ian. Kadan followed the shift in her gaze, and his hands slid up over her h*ps to her waist. “You’re in trouble.”

Why in the world that sent a little electrical thrill through her, Tansy didn’t know, but suddenly her br**sts ached and she felt the familiar dampness between her legs.

“I had to make certain . . .” She trailed off at the look in his eyes.

Kadan caught her chin and tipped her face up. “You don’t take risks. Do you understand me? You don’t risk yourself like that. If you wanted to know, you could have waited for me.”

He looked tired, weary, covered in blood, his chest black and blue, but his gaze held hers, steady and firm. Tansy smiled at him, leaned her body a little into his. “I hear you. I’ll be more careful.”

“Tansy,” Sharon said. “Please introduce us to these men. They certainly saved our lives. Thank you.” She smiled at each of the men and they squirmed a little under the attention. “Thank you all so much. I don’t even know your names. And, Tansy, this man is obviously very special to you. Don’t you think you should introduce us?”

Sharon looked at Kadan as if he was a hero, but one glance at Don Meadows told Kadan that the man didn’t have the same opinion of him. He sent Tansy’s father a hard look. No, they weren’t going to get along at all, but Daddy didn’t realize Kadan didn’t give a damn whether he was liked or not. Only whether the man meant harm to Tansy.

“I’m sorry, Mom, I was just so happy that everyone managed to get out alive,” Tansy said. “This is Kadan Montague, my . . .”

She looked so confused that Kadan took her hand and brought it to his mouth. “Fiancé, Mrs. Meadows. I’m the man who is going to marry your daughter.”

Tansy’s eyebrow shot up, her gaze still held captive by Kadan’s. You sort of forgot to ask me.

I’m asking you now.

Her heart jumped. He was covered in blood, looked weary as hell, had a torn shirt and a smashed vest, bruises on his chest, but he stood in front of her, head unbowed, eyes flickering with blue ice, holding his breath. She felt that. The air caught in his lungs. Need beat at her. Desire pounded at her. His. His emotions that he barely recognized, frozen he thought, volcanic she knew—those emotions were for her.

Well, okay then. How the hell could she ever resist him? Not with his hands running up and down her arms and that stark look of need in his eyes whether he knew it or not.

“What the hell is going on here, Tansy?” Don Meadows demanded, breaking the spell.

Tansy glanced at her father. “I’m introducing you to the man I’m in love with, Dad.”

Don scowled and took an aggressive step forward. The moment he moved, Kadan shifted, his body angled to protect Tansy. As a unit, his team went into position, Nico circling behind Meadows, Tucker and Ian flanking Kadan. Gator sauntered over toward the door, giving himself a clear line of fire to both Sharon and Don. Ryland slipped behind Tansy.

Don froze instantly. “We don’t know the first thing about this man. We’ve never even heard of him before. I hardly think you can be in love with him, Tansy. Tell him it’s all a mistake and you’d like him to leave.”

“What you mean is I’m not good enough for her.” Kadan goaded him, using his quietest voice, knowing the contrast between his low, mesmerizing tone and Don’s harsh manner would be grating on Tansy.

“Hell no,” Don burst out, clearly furious. His face went dark with anger, and he took another step toward his daughter, unable to stop himself, in spite of the threat of Kadan’s team. “This is bullshit, Tansy. Who are these men? What do they want? I don’t believe you’d take up with this . . . this mercenary for a moment.”

Tansy gasped in outrage. “I suppose mercenaries are good enough to employ to put their bodies between yours and a bullet, but not good enough to marry your daughter.”

“Keep quiet, Tansy. You’re in enough trouble.”

“Don,” Sharon interrupted. “What in the world is wrong with you? This man saved our lives. It’s obvious Tansy has known him.”

“Nothing is obvious,” Don snapped, his tone dismissive. “You don’t have a clue what’s going on here, either of you.”

Don Meadows was clearly a man who ruled his world and was used to obedience from those around him. They certainly addressed him in tones of respect, and Kadan was certain no one had ever put a boot on Don’s neck. The tread patterns were still there, faint, but discernible.