Conspiracy Game (GhostWalkers #4)(62)
Author: Christine Feehan

Ken groaned. “I’m so out of here.” Have a little mercy, Christ, Jack.

Sorry, I didn’t realize I was thinking without putting up our barrier.

I’m going to be getting hot and bothered with that kind of crap. I’m going to work. You can find me tiling the bathroom if you ever pry yourself away. Ken stalked off, glaring at his brother over his shoulder.

“Well, at least I know how to get some work out of you now,” Jack called after him.

“Thinking what?” Briony asked. She took a sip of her coffee.

“That you looked so damned sexy I could eat you up.”

Briony nearly spit the coffee all over the floor. “Good grief, Jack. I look terrible. You need help. Look at me, I don’t even have a brush.”

“You look beautiful.” He opened the bags and began to pull things out. “Brush, toothbrush, toothpaste, and all the stuff you need to wash your face.”

Her eyes widened with surprise. He’d obviously asked for help, and the salesladies had been more than happy to steer him to the most expensive products in the stores. He brought out beautiful soft sweaters and designer jeans as well as expensive, very sexy underwear. He’d even remembered shoes and socks, and a dress so elegant that she’d never have a single place to wear it.

Briony sank into a chair, staring in awe at the wardrobe he’d laid out. Each item had been picked with great care. He hadn’t just grabbed things off a rack, he’d taken his time and made certain everything was soft and comfortable and the latest fashion. Tears welled up. She was so emotional lately. “Jack. I don’t know what to say. This is amazing. Everything I need.”

“Not really, but it’s a start.” He pulled a small box out of his pocket. “These aren’t your mother’s, but you have a habit of touching your earrings for reassurance. I thought they’d do until we get your mother’s back.” He slid the box over the table to her and turned to pace restlessly across the kitchen.

He’d rather face a firing squad than watch her face while she opened the box. He hadn’t been certain if getting her the earrings would upset her, and already tears were glistening in her eyes. He was beginning to sweat. How did other men find it so easy to be around a woman they cared for?

She opened the box slowly and stared down at the earrings. “They’re beautiful, Jack. Really beautiful.” He hadn’t gotten her diamonds like her mother’s, but exquisite rubies, burning with fire. They resembled fireworks bursting in the sky. She swallowed the choking lump in her throat. “Jack. This is so incredible, but how can I possible accept them?” She wanted to-the earrings were so beautiful, but more than that, they were from him.

A slow smile lit up his face, and it occurred to her that it was the very first time she’d seen his eyes really light up. “Call it a celebration of the baby. Take them. No one else around here is going to wear them-well, maybe Ken might-but they’d look better on you.”

Briony removed them from the box and fastened them in her ears, holding back her hair for him to approve. “What do you think?”

“I think they were made for you.” He leaned down again and brushed a kiss on the top of her head. “Were you sick this morning?”

“I’m sick every morning. And often during the day. It comes and goes. I think it’s part of the experience.” She touched one of the sweaters, rubbing her fingers over the soft material. “I know it’s stupid-it’s not like Whitney can be everywhere-but I’m afraid to go to the doctor. He wanted us to get together, isn’t there a chance he planted a doctor here?”

“I considered that,” Jack said. “I asked around to find the doctor who’d been around the longest.”

She nodded. “Okay. Thanks, that sounds good.”

Jack’s eyebrow shot up. She wasn’t guarding her thoughts that closely, and it might have sounded good to her, but it didn’t feel good in her mind. She was still worried that Whitney might expect her to go to Jack and that he’d bribe the doctor.

Jack caught Briony’s chin and tilted her face up to his. “First, let me explain this. I’ll be going with you to these doctor visits, and Ken will be right outside the window with a rifle and scope. He doesn’t miss. Second, Whitney would never think I’d take you in. He doesn’t know me; he only thinks he does. And thirdly, if you don’t get that little worried frown off your face, I’ll be obliged to kiss it off and then we’ll both be in trouble.”

For a moment her heart seemed to stop beating. She could only stare up at him, lost in the intensity of his gaze. There was nothing at all easy about Jack, even when he was doing the sweetest things. There was too much dark possession, too much raw, driving need, and-God help her, something in her responded like an addict.

He swore under his breath and reached for her, hauling her into his arms. His mouth came down on hers, his kiss rougher than he’d intended when her scent drifted around him and her taste drove him right to the edge of control. He shifted her into his arms, pulling her close, fitting her smaller body into his larger frame, his mouth moving with urgent demands.

She gave the briefest of hesitation, a slight resistance, and then her arms crept around his neck, and she leaned her body into his, and her tongue, soft as velvet, slid over his in a hot tango. He captured her soft little sigh, and tasted spice and honey, her mouth a dark mystery of heat and passion. He could feel the soft weight of her br**sts pressing into his chest. The familiar rush of heat raced through his veins, to settle into a terrible ache in the center of his groin, so that he was full and tight, but along with the physical need, he felt as if he had come home-as if he belonged.

Taking his time, Jack gentled his kiss, savoring the moment and every separate sensation. The full, painful ache of his body, the beating of his heart, her soft skin and heady scent, the potent combination of sex and something far, far deeper.

Briony slid her hands to his chest and over the thin barrier of his shirt and traced the letters carved into his body. “I dreamt about you last night.” But it hadn’t been a dream. She’d been aware of him as she lay drifting, his body wrapped closely around hers, so protective. He’d held her close, one hand over their child as if he could keep all monsters at bay while they dozed. Briony rarely slept, and never with anyone close, yet she had gone straight out, Jack’s scent surrounding her, his body next to hers, and it had felt so right-as if, for the first time in her life, she belonged.