Ruthless Game

by Christine Feehan

  Rose had understood him. He felt the buildup from his toes, burning up through his legs, the fire spreading downward from his belly until the feeling centered in his groin, like the gathering of a volcano. Her mouth was smooth, hot silk, wet and wild, moving, not just in a steady bob but spiraling up and down, her tongue sometimes flicking, sometimes using flat, broad strokes that sent his pulse rocketing.

  "Sweetheart, I'm not going to be able to hold on." Already his hands had shifted from the comforter to her hair, gripping harder than he wanted, but he could barely think, his teeth clenched, breathing hard to try to slow down.

  I want you to.

  He knew she felt the tightening in his entire body, but did she know what to expect? "Not this time, Rose." He felt like a saint, trying to protect her.

  She did that strange little flicker with her tongue and moaned, sending a vibration through his cock. He was lost, fireworks going off. He heard his own harsh groan as the world around him exploded. He should have pulled her head off him, not down onto him, but the pleasure was too intense to do anything but go with it. He realized he was holding her there and instantly tried to release her.

  Rose didn't fight him, but she coughed a few times before sitting back, wiping at her mouth and down the front of her. Her hands went to support her breasts, now full and hard. She winced a little as if they were hurting her. She looked satisfied and very pleased with herself.

  "I think I managed to do that mostly right, at least up until the end." She surveyed her body, making a face. "This is kind of a messy business, isn't it?"

  He wasn't certain he could find his voice. He reached up to touch the hard little bead of her nipple, dripping now. He brought his finger to his mouth and licked at the little droplet. "You taste so sweet, Rose." He rubbed at the remaining evidence of his desire for her, using her shirt to clean off her breasts. "I think things got a little out of hand."

  "I'll have to practice a lot more to get that right."

  He shook his head, his smile welling up. She made him happy, even when she was still treating him a little like a science project. "You can practice all you like, Rose. I don't mind." His body was still shaking with the shocking pleasure.

  "It's actually quite arousing to know I can make you that excited." She reached for her bra. "But all that activity made my milk come in, and I hurt. I'm going to stand in the hot shower and see if that helps."

  "I can help," he offered, afraid of offending her. She looked so tempting with the milk leaking from her breasts. All he had to do was latch on and relieve the pressure for her. Everything about her was sexy, even the milk in her breasts. He felt a twinge in his cock all over again when he shouldn't be able to move for hours.

  She leaned forward to brush a kiss along his chin. "I think that might make me all the more excited and needy,

  Kane. I want you, and my body isn't ready yet. The hot shower is as good as it's going to get for me right now."

  He pushed himself up on his elbows, glancing at the clock. He wouldn't mind joining her in the shower, just to watch her. He was seriously in danger of becoming addicted to her--especially after what she'd just done. He knew if he insisted she would allow him to suckle the excess from her. He liked the idea of her wanting him, but he didn't want to leave her needy, and he couldn't finish anything he started.

  "Rose." He stopped her from scooting off the bed.

  "That's the most beautiful thing anyone's ever done for me. Thank you."

  "I was telling you how I felt." Her gaze held steady on his.

  "I was listening. I think you were very articulate."

  Her slow smile rewarded him. "You could use a little cleanup yourself."

  He was off the bed immediately, his hand removing the bra from her and tossing it aside. He cupped her breasts, supporting them as he walked her into the bathroom. "You take over the support while I take care of your clothes and get the temperature just right."

  Rose nodded and stood, holding her aching, burning breasts in her hands. She'd never felt so hard and unattractive as in that moment. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She had loved telling Kane with her mouth what she couldn't say out loud. There was no other man for her. Everything about him was perfect for her. He'd showed her nothing but respect from the very beginning. And as far as she was concerned, he was the hottest man she'd ever seen.

  His hands were gentle as he stripped away her jeans. She was a little embarrassed over her soft belly when she was so used to having a tight body. She wanted him to see her at her best, and unfortunately, she was feeling awkward, uncertain, and her breasts hurt like hell. The need pulsing between her legs didn't make her happy either.

  She stepped under the hot water and leaned back against him, letting his hands support her breasts and keep her upright while the heat penetrated her skin and allowed her milk to run free. The relief was gradual but felt like heaven. She was conscious of Kane holding her close to him, his body like the trunk of an oak, hard and solid, an anchor in every storm.

  She closed her eyes and just absorbed him. There was something about Kane that under any circumstances made her feel safe--and cared for. The way he looked at her made her feel alive, aware at all times of herself as a woman--not just as a soldier.

  He glanced at his watch and, although he showed no signs of hurrying or being impatient that she took her time under the hot water, she had the feeling that he was growing anxious. As soon as they turned off the water, he handed her a large bath towel and then dried off. She followed his example at a much more leisurely pace.

  He was fully dressed in combat night gear by the time she was dried off.

  "What are you doing?" Rose frowned, watching him shove weapons into every conceivable loop and hidden pocket. "You don't look like we're settling in for a cozy evening."

  "I'll have to go out and check on the two idiots outside. They're hatching a plan to kidnap some girl from a village. I need to know if they're really going to go through with it. If Fargo leaves, Carlson will make his try for you tonight, no matter what."

  Horrified, Rose wrapped the towel around herself tightly. "They're going to do what?"

  "That was the plan. It seems the booze isn't keeping them warm enough at night. They're bored and restless, Rose. Neither one of them has the discipline necessary for an assignment like this one. Whitney studies humans, and he enjoys throwing them into the very situations he thinks they should rise above, but he knows their natures work against them."

  "Well, you can't allow them to take a woman from the village."

  He went silent. She tried to read his expression, but he wasn't giving away his thoughts. Rose put a hand on his chest before he could leave the room. "You can't allow them to take a woman from that village, Kane; promise me."

  His hand came up and trapped hers. "Sweetheart, I told you I would never lie to you. I'm not making promises I might not be able to keep."

  "But ..." She began a protest, but he leaned down and captured her mouth.

  Tiny sparks electrified her mouth and raced along her insides, rushing through her veins like a drug. Heat spread through her body. Her mind went a little fuzzy, and she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  Kane stepped back, gently capturing her wrists. "We'll talk about this when I know more." He kissed both hands and let her go. "Let's just get the information, and we'll discuss it when we have to make decisions."

  CHAPTER 9

  "You said when you came back with more information we were going to discuss this, Kane. You just told me Fargo was already gone." Rose stood directly in front of Kane, refusing to be intimidated by the sheer size and enormous strength of him.

  Kane took a step toward her, towering over her. "I didn't expect him to leave so damned soon. It means Carlson will be getting his courage up to defy Whitney without Fargo as a deterrent. If I kill them both, we'll be forced to leave because no one will be reporting to Whitney. He'll know they're dead, and he'll send a force after us. Mack h
asn't contacted us, and you said yourself the baby needs more time."

  Rose breathed away her fury. She wasn't really angry at Kane, just the situation. Was she never going to be free of men like Fargo and Carlson? "All right then. You won't go after him. Then you watch the baby and I'll go. Because, Kane, one of us has to do it."

  Kane shook his head, no expression on his face. His eyes had gone flat and cold, something Rose recognized as trouble. "I thought about it. How could I not? Fargo will find some poor woman and drag her back ..."

  "Rape her," Rose said. "Just say it, Kane."

  "Damn it, yes, but you and I both know Carlson will be coming here tonight. I can't leave you and Sebastian unprotected. It's a hell of a choice, but it's my choice. You and Sebastian come first every time. I've had to make worse choices, and I've lived with them."

  He was not going to apologize for choosing her over a stranger. Carlson would come for her, he knew it with every breath in his body, and he damn well wasn't leaving her and the baby to the depraved, diseased mind of Carlson James.

  Rose took a breath and let it out. It wasn't quite the easy decision for Kane as he was making it out to be. She could see the distaste in his eyes.

  He held up his hand, preventing her from speaking. "I've thought a lot about this before I ever told you, Rose. Carlson will come. I'll take care of him and then--only then--I'll go after Fargo."

  "I understand why you think it's necessary to protect us from Carlson, but really, it isn't, Kane." How could she convince him? He was a man's man. He believed that it was his duty to protect her, and in truth, she liked that quality in him. Right at this moment, though, it was a bit bothersome, but it didn't make him less appealing to her. "I don't want any woman to spend five minutes in Fargo's hands. I trust you to go out there on your own and stop that man. Do you really have less faith in me?"

  Kane opened his mouth and shut it, scowling at her.

  Rose shook her head, continuing the attack while she had him. "I have no doubts that I can protect Sebastian. If Carlson makes an appearance, have no worries; this time I won't be tied up and helpless when he comes to visit."

  She remembered every single moment of his visits. His foul-smelling breath. The depraved look in his eyes. His hands roving her body freely as if she were his possession. He had never gotten the chance to actually have sex with her, but he'd certainly treated her to a taste of what he would do given the chance. She despised the man. "He touched me, and I wanted to throw up. I'm not going to allow some other woman to have that happen to her if I can prevent it. You can glower at me all you want, but we're wasting time here."

  He shook his head. "You can't go, Rose. You know you can't."

  "Then you have to. It's either you or me. That's the only choice."

  He swore. "Then I'll kill Carlson now, go after Fargo, and we'll leave tonight. We'll be one day ahead of Whitney."

  Rose glanced toward the bedroom where the baby slept. "Whitney can track us because of my tattoo. He'll send his men after us, Kane. Go after Fargo. You can make him disappear. If Carlson doesn't make his try, we can give your unit another day to find us. Carlson will have to report to Whitney that Fargo went into town."

  She saw his jaw harden. His eyes went so bleak and cold she shivered. There were depths to Kane she didn't know yet. He looked unyielding, but he took a step toward her, wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck, forcing her to step into him. She smelled him, that faint masculine scent that was all outdoors and predator. The scent enveloped her. Her heart skidded to a halt and then began to pound. He lowered his head and took possession of her mouth.

  Her body, of its own accord, melted into his. She felt every single weapon imprinted on her skin, but most of all, she felt the explosion of heat from his mouth to hers. Fire raced down her throat and entered her bloodstream, melting her from the inside out. When he lifted his head, she stared at him a little dazzled, uncertain what to think or even how to think.

  "Get the baby ready to leave. Follow the tunnel to the end and check out the Humvee in case we need it. Pack supplies and everything warm you can for Sebastian. Choose weapons we both can handle with as many rounds of ammo you can find for them. Don't forget water."

  "What are you doing?"

  "Whatever is necessary. You're a soldier. Figure it out." He turned and left her standing there, her heart pounding.

  There was no arguing with him. She recognized that now. He'd been malleable and sweet, but only up to a point. Kane had his own brand of honor, and no one--not even her--was going to deter him when he felt he was right. She should have known. She recognized a dangerous man when she saw one, and she had chosen him in part because he was dangerous--she knew if she got away from Whitney, Kane would fight with his last breath to keep her safe. Now that she'd seen what that entailed, she couldn't very well be angry at him.

  She ran to the door, stopping him right before he opened it. "Kane."

  He turned to look at her with his piercing, implacable eyes.

  "Be safe. Come back to us."

  "No worries, sweetheart."

  Kane flashed Rose a smile and slipped out into the night where he belonged. There was freedom in darkness. He was born to rule the night. He looked up at the night sky. Stars were everywhere, and he could see the thick swirling ribbon that was the Milky Way. The tight knots that had developed when Rose argued with him unraveled, and everything in him settled. This was his world. He was familiar with it, comfortable in it. This was where he belonged.

  Now that he'd made up his mind, there was no hesitation. Rose couldn't live with Fargo's actions, and that meant both Carlson and Fargo died tonight. Carlson had to go first, because no matter how good a soldier Rose was, she was first and foremost his woman, and that meant he protected her whether she liked it or not. That was the biggest part of his personality, and she'd better understand it wasn't going away because she was a capable--even brilliant--soldier. He would never knowingly expose her to danger and certainly not a week after she'd given birth.

  He shook his head at the peculiarities of women. He would never understand Rose, not if they lived together a million years, and he could see that she was having the same problem understanding him. Was it like that with all men and women? Or just men like him? He could be a first-class bastard if the situation called for it. He didn't have a lot of experience in relationships. He'd avoided entanglements until he'd seen Rose looking at him through her window. She had become his princess in the tower, and he was the white knight to the rescue.

  Kane began to run, the easy, steady pace he could keep for hours if need be. He was familiar with the terrain now, having gone over it three times in every twenty-four-hour period for a week. He knew every boulder and shrub. He knew every patch of saw grass and the dark, rich patches that indicated an underground source of water.

  He approached the enemy camp from the south, staying downwind. He could see a faint light but couldn't see the source immediately. Dropping lower, so as not to skyline himself, he slowed his pace, moving with stealth as he stalked his prey. The overpowering stench of blood hit him as he reached the top of the slope overlooking the base camp.

  Carlson and Fargo had tucked their camp between slopes, enabling them to have a fire when they wanted to, as well as shelter. Unless you came right up on them, the site was impossible to see. Empty bottles were strewn around on the ground. This was no soldier's encampment, rather it looked like a couple of men enjoying a vacation.

  Great globs of blood left a trail in the sand, dark, obscene smear marks that led toward the faint flickering light. An agonized scream, animalistic, impossible to identify, sent chills down Kane's spine. He'd seen men tortured and had been on the receiving end a time or two and knew that sound. Laughter rang out, then the low murmur of a voice.

  "Hey, don't die on me. It's going to be a long night before the real entertainment gets here. You're helping me out, suffering for a good cause and all. A little pain is good for the soul. I need somethi
ng to make me feel good. My little whore of a woman is about to have another man's baby, and I'm pissed."

  The terrible squeal came again, more animal than man. The sound made the hairs on Kane's neck stand up. The stench was awful. Carlson was a sadistic bastard. If torturing a man--or an animal--made him feel better, something was seriously off about the man.

  A part of Kane had actually felt a little sorry for him. He knew what it was like to crave Rose, to think about her night and day, to dream of her when he managed to close his eyes and nothing--no one else--was going to sate the ever-present hunger for her body. Kane knew he could have sex with hundreds of women, and none of them would ever satisfy him again. He'd accepted that premise when he'd signed on to be paired with her. Had Carlson had a choice as well? It didn't matter now. All that mattered now was stopping the son of a bitch.

  He dropped even lower, topping the slope. Rocks surrounded a small fire. A makeshift rack made of two thick sticks with a third suspended between them hung just to the left of the fire. Two coyotes hung there, still alive, panting and shuddering in pain. Blood dripped steadily into a dark, blackened pool beneath each of them. A crude arrow protruded from each body.

  Carlson had obviously done this many times. Neither arrow had struck anything vital but had incapacitated the animals. A third coyote lay stretched out in front of Carlson, pinned through his body with a circular wooden stake. The animal continually tried to crawl away, only to be held back by the stake. Every movement had to be causing excruciating pain. Carlson crouched over the animal, poking at it with a knife. Several patches of fur were missing. If the animal bled too much, he cauterized the wound and waited a few minutes to start again. Clearly he was skinning the animal alive.

  He poked the coyote again and laughed harshly when the creature snapped at him, the air, and finally his own leg. "I can't have you trying to bite me, now can I?" Carlson murmured. "I wonder what will happen if I just take this one eye right here?" He plunged the tip of his knife into the flames and waited until it was glowing hot.

  Sickened, Kane eased himself into a good position and put his rifle to his shoulder, finger on the trigger as he took aim. As Carlson leaned in to take the coyote's eye, Kane shot him through the back of his neck. It was a kill shot, pure and simple, and Kane didn't miss. He shot the coyote, putting him out of his misery, and then shot the other two that were hanging, waiting to be tortured.