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Ruthless Game

Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers #9)(70)
Author: Christine Feehan

The laughter faded from her eyes, and she blinked as if her eyes were burning. “You don’t have to say that to me, Kane.”

“I don’t say what I don’t mean, Rose.”

She took a deep breath and blinked. This time he could see tears glistening on the tips of her lashes.

“Sweetheart.” He bent to kiss the tears from her eyes. “That’s a good thing, not a bad thing. We’ve committed our lives to one another. Loving you is good.”

“Is it real?” Her voice shook. A whisper of sound. Maybe a plea. Or denial.

“Are you asking me if it’s something you can count on? Because if that’s what you’re worried about, Rose, the way I feel about you isn’t going to go away. I’m in love with you. I’ve never thought it, let alone said it, to another woman. Pairing is about physical lust, not love. Whitney can’t manipulate emotion, only our bodies. What I feel for you is real, Rose. It’s about you and the person you are.”

She searched his face, a long, slow study. He stood very still, letting her see the truth in his eyes. She shook him to his very core. Her strength and courage. Her determination. She’d come to him, committed to him, to a life with him to protect their child. She’d asked Whitney to pair her with him, knowing there was the possibility that they wouldn’t find one another—and that she’d never be physically satisfied with anyone else, but she’d done it because she took responsibility for her choice.

How could a man like him, one devoted to duty and honor, not respect and admire her? Everything about her personality appealed to the man in him.

“You might have to say it several times a day for me to believe it,” she warned. “I’ve never been good with fairy tales.”

A slow grin teased his mouth. He could feel the warmth spreading through his body—her sun—slowly heating his blood. “So I’m the prince. I always wanted to be a prince.”

Rose continued to look into his eyes. Her slender arms circled his neck, and she brought his head down to hers. He watched her eyes go dark and dreamy as his mouth took hers.

Sebastian kicked him hard, squirming as their bodies came together. They broke apart, laughing.

“Sorry about that, son,” Kane said, taking him gently from the front pack to cradle him in his arms. “I can’t resist your mother. You have to admit she’s pretty darn sexy.”

Rose rolled her eyes, blushing. “Don’t tell him that. You don’t know what he understands yet. I’m still reading all those baby books. I have to tell you, Kane, there are so many contradictions with all these so-called experts.”

“Well, do we want to start off by lying to him? You are darned sexy. And what’s wrong with him knowing his daddy finds his mommy very attractive?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know the first thing about raising a child.” Rose shoved her hand through her hair in agitation. “I’ll probably mess up his little psyche.”

“By the time we have our fifth or sixth you’ll be a pro,” Kane teased. He nuzzled Sebastian’s head. “Do you hear that, son? You’re our experiment, so you’ll have all sorts of excuses to do very naughty things.”

Rose threw back her head and laughed, the sound music that seemed to penetrate through the fog and float right over the city.

“Listen, Sebastian,” he whispered. “That beautiful sound belongs to us for the rest of our lives. That’s your mother.

She’s sunshine. No matter what happens in our lives, we have that.”

Rose swallowed convulsively and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Enough lessons for the day. I know you’re getting stronger, Kane, but we don’t want to overdo it. Let’s go back inside.”

He could barely look into her eyes. She might not think she knew what love was, but he could see it shining in her gaze. There was happiness—and he’d managed—somehow—to put it there inside her.

They made their way down to the door on the roof, leading to the stairwell. They’d been climbing the three stories every day to the roof for the last week to help strengthen Kane and to allow Rose to get acquainted with the neighborhood and give her as much information as possible about urban warfare. She soaked up information at a rapid rate, and when they went to the soundproof firing range on the second floor, she always put her bullets exactly where she was aiming. Kane had no doubt she’d be an asset to their team.

In a way, it would be added protection from Whitney. If Rose was serving on the GhostWalker Team Three, the man, as fanatical as he was about his country, would feel as if she was utilizing her training and might be more inclined to leave her alone.

“Do you want me to take the baby?” Rose asked as they passed the third floor where Jaimie and Mack lived.

He glanced down at her upturned, anxious face and gave her a ferocious scowl. Any other member of his team would have backed off instantly. She just kept giving him that worried look women seemed to wear around men when they were about to fuss. “I am perfectly fine. Our son doesn’t weigh much, and I’m not sick, Rose.”

Rose studied his furious face. She didn’t point out that he was breathing a little hard and small beads of sweat coated his brow. He was overdoing it, pushing himself to get back in shape. Kane wasn’t the type of man to want a lot of sympathy. He had already begun working out again, and just this morning she’d woken up and he was already leaving the bed to go run.

“You’re not perfectly fine. You’re stubborn beyond all hope,” she corrected.

He winked at her and continued down the next flight of stairs. Her stomach fluttered, and she pressed her hand tight over it. From the moment she’d laid eyes on him, she’d been attracted, and watching him with others, the unusual respect, the competent way he carried himself, she’d become interested, but that was nothing compared to what she felt now that she’d spent time with him.

She glanced at him, at the way he held their son, and along with the silly fluttering in her stomach, her heart sort of melted and left her feeling foolish. She didn’t know what normal was, so she had nothing to compare her strange emotions to. Of course, growing up, all of the women in the compound had discussed the men they’d encountered, but there was always such a separation between them: guards who kept them prisoners and the instructors who trained them.

She dropped back a couple more steps. She’d never felt as if she needed rescuing. She hadn’t considered herself the princess in the tower, not once, not ever. There was something in Kane, a tough, cynical man, a soldier who carried death in his eyes, yet he could handle a baby as gently as she could. He made her feel fragile and beautiful and so feminine. She wanted to be the princess he carried off.

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