Ruthless Game
Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers #9)(23)
Author: Christine Feehan
Rose, Jimenez left a hell of an arsenal behind. All military issue, all the very latest technology, which meant he was in bed with Whitney.
That doesn’t make sense. For all his failings, Whitney is a patriot. He wouldn’t put weapons into the hands of a rebel.
Kane could see the enemy now, see their grim, dark-striped faces clearly. Dressed in desert camouflage clothing, they ran at a steady pace, covering the mile quickly.
They’re spreading out. Look unaware and sweet and innocent.
It’s a little hard to look innocent when I’m as big as a house.
He suppressed his unexpected laughter. She wasn’t as big as a house, not by a long shot. Hell, Rose, from the back I couldn’t even tell you were pregnant. Only your tummy is round. He congratulated himself for being wise not to use the beach ball reference. You might not think you’re innocent, sweetheart, but pregnant or not, you’re very innocent.
What does that mean?
It means, he said, once you have that baby, I’ve got a whole hell of a lot to teach you. Before she could reply and tell him to go to hell, that she didn’t plan on sticking around, he gave another report. Flanking you now. One coming around on your left side.
I can’t see him yet.
The knots in his gut unraveled a bit at the calm in her voice. He admired her, plain and simple. He was lying prone, rifle in hand, watching the enemy. She was a sitting duck. He watched each man reach a position where he was able to see the one side of the house.
Checking you out now, sweetheart. They’ve gone to ground. Keep reading the book. What else does it say?
Oh dear. This isn’t good. You know the part where women can have sex as long as there aren’t any complications? Not so much in the last month. Sex can bring on labor. My dreams are shattered.
He loved the laughter in her voice. Her teasing tone told him she was lying her ass off, but he liked that she was comfortable enough to tease him about sex. He was tied to her for life and would never find a woman with quite the same appeal, but she had no ties to him other than the baby—certainly not sex. He wiped his chin on his sleeve and kept his eye to the scope.
Your dreams? he echoed. I’m suffering here, woman. He shifted just enough to ease his body into a more comfortable position in the sand. Teasing back and forth about sex was dangerous when they had enemies coming at them, but he understood it was simply another form of comic banter soldiers often used to relieve the tension. Now you go and tell me something like that. He had no problems with camaraderie. He could do camaraderie standing on his head—but not when she was putting images of his body locked with hers in his head.
Sorry, I couldn’t resist. The book actually does say that.
She hesitated, and his body reacted, tightening in anticipation. She seemed suddenly uncertain about sharing some piece of information. For a woman forthcoming about things, that didn’t bode well. Tell me.
She sighed. I think the baby dropped.
His heart thudded. He blinked, and the man he’d been watching was gone that quick out of his line of sight. Kane marked where their enemy had gone to ground, but that didn’t mean the bastard wasn’t on the move. The baby dropped? he repeated, feeling like he’d been hit over the head with something really hard. What the hell does that mean?
When I took my shower this evening, the pressure was off my ribs. I think the baby moved down into the birthing position.
I haven’t read the book, Rose. He searched every inch of the sandbank where the enemy had disappeared, trying not to panic—not because he’d lost sight of the enemy, but because he had a very bad feeling about babies dropping and what that meant.
She hesitated again, and that small hesitation continued to freak him out. He studied the sandbank. Had blades of saw grass moved? There was no wind. Not even a breeze. The night air had cooled, but it was still warm. Stars were everywhere, glittering like diamonds scattered across the sky. It was a beautiful night. He always marveled how something so ugly as murder could take place in such peaceful settings. The night was made for a man and woman to sit quietly and enjoy the constellations and each other.
“I see you,” he whispered under his breath. The saw grass bent toward the house, and he caught a glimpse of the outline of the enemy’s shoulder. On your left, Rose. He’s moving toward you. Don’t look. If he gets too close, he’s a dead man.
He checked the other three before putting the rifle back on the one closest to Rose. The others were holding position.
Don’t shoot him. Rose’s voice was tight, even shook a little. They need proof. Whitney wants documentation of everything. They’re probably trying to get a clear picture of me. He has to maneuver into position.
That little wobble in her voice had him stroking the trigger. Ice flowed in his veins normally when he was waiting for a kill shot, but tonight, with Rose sitting out in the open surrounded by the enemy, his mind was a little difficult to discipline.
This is f**king bullshit, Rose. I’m going to kill them all and we’ll get the hell out of here. We have the Humvee.
Kane. The soft note in her voice turned his heart over. I love that you want to protect me, but I’m telling you, I can’t travel. I can’t do it. If I could, I’d say let’s go for it, but it’s too soon for the baby to be born, and I think my body is so worn down it just can’t hold her anymore.
Kane wiped the sweat from his face with one hand, watching the enemy closest to Rose. The man was still easing himself forward. Now he was within fifty feet of her.
Kane knew Whitney had “paired” him; hell, he’d even agreed to it, though he hadn’t known exactly what it meant at the time. As far as he understood it, it had something to do with pheromones. Didn’t that just mean he would forever remain sexually attracted to her? If so, if that was all, what the hell was wrong with him that every cell in his body demanded he get Rose out of the situation?
Now that he’d found her again, his child growing inside her, now that he’d watched her sleep and listened to her soft laughter, admired her courage and respected her fighting capabilities, he feared pairing was far more than sexual. Whether Whitney’s program had done that or whether he was just falling like a ton of bricks for the woman, he didn’t know, but it was messing him up having her in danger.
What’s he doing?
She sounded nervous, yet she tried to cover it. His heart twisted. He wanted to gather her into his arms and hold her. I hate to admit it, but you were right. And just for the record, that might be the only time I ever say those words to you, so treasure them. He figured if he teased her a little to lighten the tension, it would help both of them. He’s recording you sitting there looking all content and smug outside your hideaway. Whitney will love that.