Christine Feehan - Conspiracy Game

Fear -it tasted like bile in his mouth, churned in his gut until his only recourse was action to remove it. He turned on his heel and left her, heading to the shop and his workout bag, something he could hit until his hands were bloody and he was too damned tired to think anymore.

“Why’d you hit him, Ken?” Briony asked.

“Because he values my life more than his.”

“And you don’t feel the same about him?”

“I don’t have you and the babies. He’s got to consider that now before he stands in the line of fire.”

“I don’t think that’s going to change. And I don’t understand. It was just an old man,” Briony said to Ken. “He shouldn’t be so upset.”

“Think, Briony, you always have to think. The old man comes here often for food or if he needs medical attention. We know him and we let him on the property. He’s not quite right anymore, been living alone too long, but he’s a decent man. If Whitney wants to find out where you are, what better way than to use Brady? He wouldn’t even know they were using him. Plant a vid camera on him and give him the idea he needs to see us, and they’ve got their spy in the enemy camp.”

Her hand went to her throat. “You don’t think they’d actually do that, do you?”

“Whitney’s seen our files, Briony. He isn’t stupid. Why risk sending his men in without insuring you’re here and getting the layout as well? You notice we didn’t bring him up to the house? We never bring him up to the house. We feed him meals and give him supplies, but not up at the house-but they wouldn’t know that.”

“How terrible to live that way. You don’t think it’s just a tiny bit paranoid?”

“We’ve taken out targets in nearly every country in the world, Briony, and no matter how top secret our status, our names have leaked out a couple of times in the past. Someone comes for us every now and then. It’s our way of life, and if you’re going to stay-it has to become your way of life as well.”

“And the baby?”

“Babies,” he corrected. “They’ll learn. We’ll teach them.”

“That’s what he meant when he said I’d be a liability.” She looked up at Ken. “He knew someone could use us to go after him, didn’t he? If they captured and tortured us, he’d do anything to get us back, wouldn’t he?”

“We’ll protect you and the children. You couldn’t be safer with anyone else. Jack and I both would stand between you and anyone who wanted to harm you.”

“But who’s watching out for the two of you? I’ve just brought more danger on both of you in even more ways than I imagined.”

“Jack and I are a family. We’ll always be family. We’ll always look out for each other. If you and the little ones live here, you’re part of that family, it’s that simple, Briony.”

“Are you all right with me being here, disrupting your life, Ken?”

“Hell yes. You make him happy, Briony. I can’t remember him happy.” A slow smile curved his mouth, but never quite lit up his eyes. “And you can cook. You did make dinner, didn’t you?” There was a hopeful note in his voice.

A ghost of a smile to match his slipped through the strain on her face. She couldn’t bear for Jack to be angry with her. She hadn’t thought about wandering through the woods alone-but she should have. And she certainly hadn’t considered that Whitney might use an old, half-mad mountain man for recon-but she’d remember, and it would never slip her mind again. She could learn their ways. She was smart, fast, and strong, and she wanted to belong to Jack.

“I’ll put biscuits in the oven, and by the time we clean up, it should be ready.” She hesitated. “Are you going to call Jack?”

“No. You are. When you have dinner ready, just call him in. Don’t let him brood about this. It happened. It’s over.”

“I really am sorry, Ken.”

“I know, honey. It isn’t an easy way to live, and Jack should cut you a little slack, but he’s doesn’t do scared well-and you scared him.”

“I know I did.”

Ken dropped his arm around her and walked with her to the house.

“Aren’t you afraid he’ll get more upset?”

“Because I have my arm around you? He can learn to live with it. If I feel affection toward you, I’m going to show it. Jack’s a part of me. He loves you and you make him happy. Believe me, I feel affection for you for that alone, but it isn’t sexual and he might as well find out what he can live with and what he can’t.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “It’s good for him to see he isn’t as bad as he thinks he is.”

Briony washed her hands and put the biscuits in the oven. “You were worried about me coming to live with you at first. I could feel it.”

Ken shrugged. “Jack is-Jack. There’s no telling how he’s going to react to anything. This is a completely new situation for us, and honestly-I didn’t know how he was going to react. He feels things much deeper than most people, or he doesn’t feel at all. It’s a difficult trait for him to have to live with.”

Briony took a quick shower and dressed in the soft cotton pants and tank top she liked to sleep in, before hurrying back to the kitchen to pull out the biscuits before they burned. It took that long to work up her courage. Dinner’s ready, Jack. Come in and eat. She tried not to let her voice shake, tried to sound matter-of-fact, but she knew Jack would know she was upset. She couldn’t speak telepathically and not have him know.

Ken sniffed the air appreciatively. “I’m falling madly in love here, Briony.”

She forced a smile as she placed the pot of stew in the middle of the table. “I sure hope the woman you end up with knows how to cook.”

For a moment his smile slipped, but he recovered fast. “Since we’d all be living here together, you could teach her.”

“Lucky me.” She heard the door open behind her and knew immediately that Jack had stepped into the room. He’d been working on the heavy bag. She smelled sweat and blood and the tangy masculine scent that sent her hormones into overdrive. She swung around, her gaze jumping to his, her heart pounding in her throat.

“Smells good,” Jack commented, his gray eyes watching her closely. He crossed directly to her side, never once looking away.

Jack held her gaze captive. Briony felt mesmerized by him-was mesmerized. Her heart beat so hard she was afraid she might have a heart attack, but she didn’t dare lift her hand to press against her chest; she was trembling too hard to hide. He bent his head to hers and brushed her upturned lips. Once-twice. “I’m sorry, baby. I was angrier with myself than with you. I should have given you specific instructions on where you should or shouldn’t go. I’m sorry I frightened you.” He kissed her again, so gently her heart did a funny little somersault and soft wings brushed the inside of her stomach.

“What did you do to your hands?” She caught his wrists and turned his hands over to inspect his knuckles.

“I’m fine. Let me get cleaned up for dinner.”

“I’ll do it,” Briony said decisively, leading him back to his wing of the house. “Next time you decide to wig out on me, wrap your hands.”

“Wig out?” His eyebrow shot up. He wasn’t going to admit that there was a certain satisfaction in pounding flesh until it bled. She already had enough to condemn him.

He let her wash and apply antibiotic cream to his wounds, enjoying the way she touched him, her hands gentle and her eyes shy. In the close confines of the bathroom, with her clean scent enfolding him, his body zinged out of control, tightening and pulsing, blood engorging his groin. “I’m going to take a quick shower before dinner, and tonight, Ken does the dishes. You need to rest.” He’d opt for a cold shower, but he doubted it would do much good.