Murder Game (GhostWalkers #7)(70)
Author: Christine Feehan

In her mind, Tansy withdrew from him. Even connected as he was, he could feel her huddling in a corner as far from him as possible, too hurt to trust anything or anyone. And he couldn’t blame her. Don Meadows had been her hero, the man who rescued her from Whitney, and all along he’d been keeping Whitney’s dark secret.

Kadan drove through the night, keeping one hand on her, insisting on the one connection when she was so far away. It took her a couple of hours to drift into a fitful sleep. By the time he’d pulled up to the house, she was in a much deeper sleep, and he was able to carry her inside and put her on the bed. He stretched out beside her and finally closed his eyes, wrapping both arms around her to keep safe, even in her dreams.

Chapter 14

Kadan woke with his arms filled with warmth, and the scent of cinnamon and sin surrounding him. His body throbbed with a monster hard-on, his shaft full to the point of pain as he lay curved around Tansy. He kept very still, breathing through need, disgusted that he could be dripping like a rutting animal, hot and thick, pressed so tight against the soft, tempting curve of her bottom, when she was still reeling in shock from the devastating revelations of her father’s betrayal.

What was wrong with him that he couldn’t give her the comfort she needed? He pushed his forehead against the back of her silky head, for the first time in his life really wishing he was different. He’d never cared before. It had never mattered to him to articulate his thoughts and feelings to another human being. He had no family or home, and he’d never believed he would either. And now here she was, soft and warm and smelling of heaven, feeling like paradise against his body, and all he could think about was riding her for hours, instead of finding the right words to comfort her, the right way to hold her, without seeming like all he really wanted was a fast, hard ride.

Sometime in the night he had wrapped his arms around her, his hands cupping her br**sts so her ni**les pushed into the center of his palms and the soft weight of her lay in invitation. He realized he was rocking his h*ps gently against her, rubbing his shaft along her bu**ocks, and he forced himself to stop, breathing deeply to stay in control. Cursing under his breath, he pulled his arms free and rolled away from her. With his groin so full and aching, it was a kind of torment to sit on the edge of the bed and just breathe her in.

He felt her move, felt her awareness, heard the small hitch in her breath as she woke. He didn’t look at her, because if he had, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from sliding her body under his. Instead, he padded to the bathroom on bare feet and took a long, cold shower that didn’t seem to do anything but make him more uncomfortable.

His jeans seemed tighter than usual and his body didn’t want to cooperate; there was no comfortable place to tuck his hard shaft, but he did his best. Tansy was already up and in the other bathroom, obviously taking a bath. He could smell the fragrance wafting out from behind the half-open door and hear the splash of water as she bathed. He closed his eyes, trying not to see an image of her nude, rising up out of the water, long hair flowing around her like a silvery waterfall.

He stalked into the kitchen and put on coffee, trying to keep his imagination from running wild, thinking about the water beading on her skin and where it might be running. And what the hell had he ever thought about before she came into his life? He used to have a brain; now all he thought about was sex.

He tapped his foot, determined not to go look at her. All that soft skin. The silky hair. Her enormous eyes. Mouth to die for—a mouth made for sin. He found himself at the bathroom door, nudging it open with his foot. He stuck his head in and lost his breath. She was rising up out of the tub, wrapping her hair in a towel. She looked at him, not even making an attempt to cover up, one eyebrow raised in inquiry.

“Uh. Breakfast.” His voice sounded rusty. “I figured you’d be hungry. What would you like to eat?” Because he’d like to eat her. Or have her eat him. Hell. He was losing it. He had to solve a murder, not turn into a teenage walking hard-on.

“Oh, that sounds great. I’m really hungry.” She bent over to pick up the folded towel resting on the vanity, her br**sts spilling forward. Small beads of water ran down the soft curves and dripped from her ni**les to the floor.

Kadan licked his lips. There seemed to be a strange roaring in his head, and if he didn’t adjust his jeans soon, the seams were going to burst. “Egg preference?”

She straightened and shook out the towel. Tiny droplets of water traveled down the valley between her br**sts, across her tempting belly, to find the vee of white gold curls at the junction of her legs. He caught himself staring, wanting to drop to his knees and sink his tongue in her. She seemed oblivious, running the towel along the curves of her body, soaking up the tiny water drops.

“Anything is fine, but I really like scrambled.”

“Scrambled it is, then.”

Kadan left her because she had a small, sexy smile on her face, and was barely rubbing the towel over her skin, and he was going to ruin a good pair of jeans and embarrass himself. He stomped down the hall back to the kitchen, wishing he smoked. He slammed a frying pan onto the stove, muttering to himself. His radar went off and he spun around.

Tansy stood in the doorway, one towel in her hand, the other wrapped around her hair, and nothing else. “Have I upset you?”

Kadan shook his head, keeping his gaze on her face, willing his wayward eyes to focus. Unfortunately they focused on her mouth, which did little to help his situation. “Of course not. I’m just feeling a little out of sorts.”

“I don’t mind cooking. I need you to put the game pieces back on the table for me anyway. I’m not a great cook, but I manage.”

Naked. She was going to cook for him without a stitch of clothing on. He wouldn’t survive. “Like that?” Now his voice had dropped to pure smoke.

Tansy looked startled. She glanced down at herself. “No, of course not. I was planning on getting dressed first.” She turned and stormed off, her shoulders stiff.

Now he’d really upset her, and all he could think about was the sway of her ass as she stomped down the hall. Relationships were complicated when they really shouldn’t be. He sighed again and went down to the war room. He may as well set up the pieces before cooking. He needed to get his head straight, and walking into a room with so many victims screaming for justice had a way of reducing everything else to nothing. He might not be good with women, but he knew how to track killers.