Christine Feehan - Conspiracy Game

“Get dressed,” he said gruffly, looking around for his clothes. He dressed in silence, a small part of him ashamed of himself that he’d taken her offering, but the bigger part wanting her again and again.

“Jack, I have to go,” Briony said. “We don’t have much time. If my brothers come and the door is locked… ”

“Jeb knows I’m with you; he’ll assume you were trying to protect me.” He wished to hell he hadn’t used that particular word. He should have been protecting her. He held her close, stroking caresses through her hair. “I should have waited until we were in your bedroom. Tonight, after you do your thing, I promise to do a better job.”

“It was my first time, Jack. For a first time, with me not knowing what I was doing, rockets went off.” She lifted her face so he could kiss her. “I have to go to the dressing room. We’ll have my brothers looking for me soon if we wait much longer, and you need to get out of sight.”

“Sometimes out of sight is in plain sight. I’m watching you tonight.”

She kissed him again, suddenly hungry for him. “Stay safe.” She hurried off, turning to wave twice, her smile melting the hard knots in his belly.

Fromhis position in the shadows near the entrance for performers, Jack found his heart in his throat, watching her body flying through the air, her sequined costume glittering like a star speeding across the sky. The stunts were fast-paced and dangerous, a blend of fire, rope, and swing, with everyone in constant motion. Jack watched Briony, hardly noticing her brothers. Mostly he felt her.

The stunts required her full attention and there was no way for her to hide the pain wracking her body. He was a trained soldier, had extensive combat experience, and knew torture on a much more intimate basis than he would like. He knew how to separate his body and mind and block pain. She didn’t block it exactly. She felt it, but refused to acknowledge it. She endured.

He felt every hammer blow as if someone was driving a sharp stake through her skull. The blows fell with rhythmic force as the anxiety level in the audience grew with each succeeding stunt. He pressed a hand to his cramping stomach. Bile rose, but he fought it down. He willed himself not to get a nosebleed, felt the blood trickle to the corner of his mouth, and narrowed his eyes when he saw her hand move with blurring speed to wipe her face.

He detested watching the performance, his fingers curling into fists at the certain knowledge that she was suffering- and she did this several times a day-nearly every day . He turned away, swearing under his breath. Why would her family allow such a thing? What the hell was wrong with them? And what was wrong with her that she deliberately tortured her body every single day?

He wanted to snatch her up and run, take her somewhere he could protect her and keep her safe from the constant bombardment of everyday emotions. If he stayed there a moment longer, he was going to climb the rope and pull her out of there right in front of all of the soldiers and whatever rebels were scattered in the audience.

Briony completed a full twist and felt the satisfying smack as Jebediah caught her wrists and sent her flying back toward Tyrel. The high wire under her feet, she ran across, counting the beats of music to get to her cue. As she did so, she saw Jack slip out. At once pain flooded her body, so hard, so fast she nearly missed as she dove through the ring of fire. Jebediah’s alarm at her missed timing felt like a blow to her brain.

She took a breath and forced her body under control for the rest of the show. Jebediah waited until they were alone in the makeshift dressing room, silently handing her a cloth to wipe the blood from her nose and mouth. “You almost missed, Briony. There isn’t a safety net.”

Ruben, Tyrel, and Seth fell silent, their laughter fading as they turned to her. Their concern only heightened the pain stabbing through her.

“I know. It was worse this time. It won’t happen again. I’ll be prepared.”

Jebediah frowned as he watched her wipe at the blood. “Get some sleep tonight. It’s almost over, a couple more days.” Jebediah waved his brothers out and waited until they closed the door. “Give this to Jack. I was able to get a message to his brother at the hospital and Ken’s arranged transport. There’s a ship that will be waiting off the coast. A helicopter will extract him.” He slipped a satellite phone into her hand. “He shouldn’t leave the room until necessary. We’re going to act like we always do every night and hit the clubs. You stay in your room with that door locked, and I mean it this time, Bri. This is dangerous. If someone betrayed Jack and delivered him to the rebels, they might intercept what we’re doing and we’ll all be in serious trouble.”

“I’ll stay in, Jeb,” Briony promised. He was leaving. She knew he had to go and he would at least have medical care, but the thought of being separated from him was mind-numbing. She turned away from her brother, covering her face again with the cloth so he couldn’t see her expression.

Jebediah walked with her in silence to the hotel and left her as she went up the stairs to the hallway. “It’s just me,” she called out before using her key.

Jack crossed the room and pulled her into his arms, holding her close, nearly crushing her with his strength. “You scare the hell out of me, Briony.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, careful to try to keep her weight off of his chest, although he was pulling her hard against him. “That’s funny coming from a man who runs around alone in a jungle with a crazed army after him.” She kissed his lower lip, teased at the corner of his mouth. “Jeb sent a satellite phone. I have no idea where he got it, but you’re supposed to call Ken. They’re coming for you tonight. I’ll go take my shower while you make the call.”

Briony pushed the phone into his hands and moved away, not wanting him to see or feel how much it was going to hurt when he left. Their relationship had blossomed to intense too fast-yet for the first time in her life she felt as if she belonged. She let the hot water pour over her face, washing away tears. Of course he had to go. He had no other choice-it was far too dangerous for him to stay. She took her time drying her hair, needing the extra minutes to compose herself.

Jack was already in bed when Briony came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. He held up one corner of the sheet and patted the mattress invitingly. “Don’t bother with clothes. I’ll just have to take them off of you.”

Briony laughed. “You sound like such a tough guy.” She lit a single candle before turning off the light and sliding into bed beside him.

“I am a tough guy. You’re the only one who doesn’t notice.” He framed her face and bent to kiss her, long, lingering kisses that helped to soothe the pounding of his heart from watching her perform under such duress.

Briony’s lips were soft and welcoming, her mouth innocent and passionate, hot and spicy, the mixture intoxicating. He breathed deep, laid his brow against hers. He wanted to kiss her forever, hold her close. Keep her. Because he was Frankenstein with more stitches than skin, she hadn’t been able to touch him, and he wanted to feel her hands on his body. He needed to feel her hands on him. How was he ever going to give her up?

Jack propped himself up on one elbow, resting on his side, one of the few positions he could lie in without extreme discomfort. He brushed silky strands of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin. “Tell me about your life.”

“My life?” She raised an eyebrow. “My parents were wonderful people. Circus people. They loved the life. So do my brothers. My mom was born in Italy and my father was from the United States. I have four brothers, all of whom think they need to boss me around.”