Murder Game

by Christine Feehan

  Tansy went pliant and accepting, kissing him back, letting his marauding hands tug away her shirt so he could slide his hands over every inch of her skin, whatever he wanted, whatever he needed. His mouth left hers, trailing kisses over her chin, down her throat, to her breast. She circled his neck with one arm and arched into him, a little helplessly as he took, frantic for the taste and feel of her.

  "I have to be inside you right now," he whispered hoarsely. "Right now, Tansy."

  The urgency in his voice, the mesmerizing need and desperation, had her tugging at his belt, his jeans, shoving them partway down his hips even as his mouth pulled strongly at her breast and his teeth tugged at her nipple. She was suddenly nearly as frantic as he was, her body clenching and dripping with liquid heat.

  He lifted her, hands hard on her bottom, fingers digging deep as she wrapped her legs around his waist and locked her ankles tight. She could feel him pushing at her entrance, driving through tight folds to stretch her with his invasion. He didn't give her time to adjust, but thrust upward as he dropped her down hard, her sheath enclosing him like a tight fist. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, throwing her head back, a moan escaping.

  Kadan turned, angling her body so her back was against the wall and he could slam hard and fast, pounding deep in a frenzy of need to be part of her, to know she was alive, surrounding him with silken walls and scorching fire to melt away the last of the cold. He didn't allow himself thought. He wanted only to feel. To know she was alive by touch, by sound, by scent. He didn't trust his own mind, but his body knew hers, his hands and his burning, aching shaft as he thrust into her over and over.

  "Look at me," he commanded. He needed to see her eyes. Her eyes always told the truth.

  Tansy's gaze immediately jumped obediently to his. She looked sexy, eyes glazed with passion, her expression almost tortured as he rocked her body over and over with his pistoning hips. Her breath came in ragged gasps and her breasts bounced, but, as always, she held nothing back from him, moaning softly, her muscles tightening around him, riding his frantically bucking body with the same matching fervor as he rode hers.

  Heat rose from his toes up his thighs to center in his groin. The fire raced through his bloodstream, burned in his belly and up through his chest, until it filled his mind with a rush of pleasure so intense it burst behind his eyes like streaking rockets. His body jerked and her muscles tightened to a stranglehold, gripping him with her fiery, silk-lined sheath. Jet after jet of hot seed soaked deep, triggering more violent ripples around him.

  Kadan pressed her against the wall, his face buried in her throat while he gasped for air. Mostly he just savored the feel of her in his arms, his body surrounded by hers. When he could breathe a little, he managed to get to the edge of the bed and lay her down, his body collapsing over hers, still buried deep, holding her hips locked with his.

  "I swear I'm going to live here--fucking live here forever. I'm not letting you go, Tansy. I'm staying inside you, part of you, where I know you're safe every minute of the day." He buried his face against her breast, the warm, soft, inviting flesh she never kept from him. Never hid from him. "I thought you were dead. I held your body in my arms and thought you were dead." A shudder ran through his body.

  "I know," she whispered, her hands caressing his damp hair. "I'm so sorry, Kadan."

  He shook his head, his shadowed jaw sliding sensuously between her breasts. "You shouldn't be with me. I don't know what I would have done. I looked at myself and saw all those killers standing right beside me. I wanted to kill. I even needed to."

  The shame and guilt and absolute loathing in his mind broke her heart. Tansy caught at his head, jerking him up, so that he was forced to look at her. "You're nothing like they are. Not a single part of you. You feel so much, so deeply, and your mind shuts that off to protect you. You aren't a cold, unfeeling monster, Kadan, you never have been. That part of you is necessary, it keeps you from losing your mind. It's a protection. Without it, you couldn't do the things you need to do to keep the world a safer place. I know that sounds silly and trite, but it's still the truth." She brushed her mouth gently over his eyelids. "I love you exactly the way you are. I love that cold warrior who keeps this man--you--sane and alive and coming back to me."

  "What if I had hurt someone?"

  "Who?" she demanded. "Who were you going to hurt?"

  He looked confused. "I don't know. Someone."

  She smiled and leaned up to kiss his nose and each corner of his mouth. "You were on automatic pilot. You didn't know what you were doing, only that you needed action. I'm in your mind. I see you better than you see yourself. You couldn't handle the grief, and the warrior took over, but he wouldn't have harmed anyone."

  "You don't know that for certain."

  "I do, Kadan. Partnership is trust. I trust you completely. I give you everything I am. My body, my heart and soul, and my mind. I trust you to see me. What I want, what I need, who I am, deep down where no one else can see. And if I'm your partner, your true partner; you have to trust me to see the real you even when you can't. I do the things you ask because I know I can trust you to keep me safe, to tell me the truth. You have to love me all the way, give yourself to me all the way, or let me go."

  His heart slammed hard in his chest. "You have me, Tansy."

  "Then believe in me when I tell you that cold part of you is a guardian, not a monster. Yes, you have killed, and you're capable of killing, you do your job, but you don't kill for fun or pleasure or because it makes you feel powerful. You are not a monster and nothing will ever turn you into one. That line is not blurred for you. You would have come to your senses and put your weapons away and crawled into your mind where no one could see and grieved for me. You were grieving; you just didn't let yourself feel it."

  He blinked and there was love in his eyes. Tenderness. Joy. "I don't deserve you, but I'll be damned if I give you up."

  "I won't let you give me up."

  Kadan kissed her hard, his mouth rough, then tender. "You're naked and I've got all my clothes on."

  "And weapons," she pointed out.

  "Sorry about that." His hips began a slow seduction, moving in long, languorous strokes. "I'm not leaving your body, not even long enough to take my clothes off. We're going to be like this all night, and then tomorrow, you're going to come with me to Montana and we're getting married."

  She tugged at his shirt until he levered himself up enough to let her pull it over his head and toss it aside. "I think we need a little more planning time for a wedding."

  "No, we don't." He licked her ear, teasing with his tongue. "I'm not waiting. And then I'm tying you up in a locked room naked, no clothes, and spending our honeymoon torturing you with pleasure until neither of us knows whose skin we're in."

  "That's the plan?" She shoved at his jeans and the open belt to get more room as his hips pushed deeper into her, filling her with heat and fire.

  "That's the plan," he said firmly. "So don't bother wearing panties under your wedding dress."

  CHAPTER 21

  "You haven't told me you love me, Kadan," Tansy said.

  Around the room people milled and talked and laughed, some swaying to the soft music and others crowding around the table of food. Kadan ignored them, centering his complete attention on Tansy. He lifted her left hand, thumb feathering a caress over her skin, and then he kissed the wedding band he'd pushed onto her finger just an hour earlier. "I showed you last night."

  "You haven't said you loved me," Tansy reiterated. "You know, those three little words you like to hear me say."

  "I told you the other day when that bastard wrapped his fingers around your neck and choked the life out of you." There was an edge to his voice, his eyes going midnight dark.

  Tansy scowled at him. "I was dead. I don't think that technically counts."

  Kadan swung her into his arms because he needed to feel her close to him. He couldn't talk about her being dead, not even joking--not yet. The mu
sic was soft and sexy, and he pulled her tight against him, one hand sliding down the curve of her spine to rest on her rounded bottom as he swept her around the room.

  He pressed his lips against her ears. "I've asked you twice if you were wearing panties. That should tell you something." His tongue flicked out in a lazy swirl and then his teeth bit down on her earlobe.

  She laughed softly, bringing instant joy to him. "It tells me you're thinking about sex, not our wedding reception. Stay focused here, my man."

  "I'm perfectly focused." His hand did a small circular massage, pressing lightly so that her body fit more snugly against his.

  She turned her face up and kissed his throat. "I love you very much, Kadan Montague."

  She didn't move away from him or demand he remove his hand. She danced closer, melting into him. He slid his palms up her back and encircled her protectively. His eyes burned. His throat closed. Tansy. His wife. She was his wife. His other half. She was and always would be his home.

  He turned her around on the dance floor, struggling to find some balance with the emotions pouring in. She said he felt too much and the ice protected him, shielded him. At first he hadn't wanted to know how much he felt for her, but now that emotion, that terrible love that clogged his throat and made his heart ache, was his world.

  "I want children," he murmured in her ear. "I want to feel them growing inside you, and see them feeding at your breast."

  "Just remember it might inhibit your penchant for sex on the kitchen table," she teased.

  Kadan drifted around the dance floor with her, lost in their world, barely aware of the GhostWalkers, the general, and her parents in the room. No one mattered to him but her. "I'll just have to be more innovative."

  She turned her face up to press kisses along his throat. "I love you so much, Kadan. And you have to tell me, say the words out loud. It's our wedding day. And every anniversary and the day each child is born."

  Laughter rumbled in his chest. "You drive a hard bargain, lady."

  The song ended and another began. They hadn't broken apart, neither wanting to let go of the other. Kadan felt Tansy stiffen and knew before he turned who would be standing behind him. He forced a polite smile as he looked down at Tansy's mother, careful not to look at her father.

  "Tansy?" Don Meadows stood there, his hand out, waiting for his daughter to dance with him while Sharon smiled expectantly up at Kadan.

  Kadan felt Tansy's reluctance, but she turned to her father and obediently placed her hand in his. Kadan took Sharon into his arms, but his eyes followed his wife around the floor. She smiled. She spoke to her father, but when Kadan touched her mind, she was silently weeping. No one could tell, certainly not Sharon, who chattered away about how happy she was to have him for a son-in-law. All he could think of was getting back to Tansy and holding her, comforting her. She suddenly looked over her father's shoulder and sent him a small smile and Kadan's heart clenched.

  He had married the most courageous woman he could imagine. She would stand with him and stand for their children. It wouldn't matter what Whitney, or Violet, or anyone else threw at them, they would be make it as long as they were together.

  He guided Sharon across the room, bent to drop a brief kiss on her cheek, and then took back his wife.

  Pulling her into the protection of his arms, keeping their bodies close, he leaned down, his lips against her ear. "I love you, baby, more than anything in the world. I absolutely love you." And when she touched his mind, there was no doubt.

  Keep reading for a sneak preview of

  the next exciting book

  by Christine Feehan

  BURNING WILD

  Available May 2009

  from Jove Books!

  Jake Bannaconni swore viciously as he swerved the sleek, purring Ferrari to miss the Buick pulling right out in front of him. Downshifting, he was around the car and gone, the Ferrari a silver streak on the treacherous mountain road. Ahead of him, on the switchbacks, he caught glimpses of the Porsche he was pursuing. The low sporty car was swerving all over the road, traveling insanely fast on the steep, narrow ribbon of highway. Thanks to his "other," Jake had amazing reflexes and vision, and that advantage allowed him to push his car to the limit in an attempt to catch his quarry, even on the narrow, twisting mountain road.

  A quick glance in the rearview mirror revealed his face was a granite mask, hard lines etched deeply, his gold-green eyes twin chips of ice, glittering menacingly. It didn't matter that he could scare anyone with a look, he truly felt murderous in that moment. He didn't care about the two occupants of that car, both falling down drunk, pawing each other obscenely in front of everyone at the senator's party, but he damn well wasn't going to let them destroy his child.

  Shaina Trent, society's darling, jet-setter, life of the party and precious do-anything-for-Daddy daughter of Josiah was carrying his son. How could he have been so damned careless? He had known exactly what she was when he had bedded her. He had known both his family and hers had wanted the alliance. Each family suspected that he was the very thing they'd been seeking all along--a shifter--and they wanted his bloodline to boost their fading abilities. And they wanted to regain control of him. He should have suspected something when Shaina had thrown herself at him--after all, she'd never looked at him before, always acting as if she were far above him.

  He downshifted and put on a burst of speed as he caught another glimpse of the Porsche sliding sideways around a turn. His heart went to his throat. The driver was so drunk he stayed in the wrong lane. Jake doubted either realized he was in pursuit. Shaina leaned toward the driver to massage his neck flirtatiously.

  Jake cursed himself for geting into such a predicament. Desperate to find a way to shackle him, the two families had made an alliance, and, like an idiot, he had fallen into their trap. A part of him even felt guilty and thought he deserved exactly what he got.

  He had deliberately slept with Shaina as a way to get back at her father, yet Shaina had been using him just as he had been using her. He hadn't been stupid enough to believe her when she told him she was on birth control, but he had been fool enough to use the condoms she produced. What none of them had figured out yet was that he would gladly burn in hell before he would accommodate them all.

  Planned pregnancy was the oldest snare in the book. It was too late now; he had to live with the consequences--and so would the rest of them. Both families--and Shaina--had seriously underestimated him. He had planned his revenge for years. He had everything in place. It wouldn't take much to ruin either family financially, and he wasn't above buying freedom for his child.

  Jake slammed his open palm on the steering wheel in an agony of recrimination. He knew better, but he just couldn't resist thumbing his nose at Josiah. But they would never have his kid. It didn't matter whether the boy was a shifter or not. Jake would find a nurse, a decent one, to come in and raise him right. He sure couldn't love the boy, but eventually he'd find someone who could.

  A muscle jerked along his jaw. He'd always been savage, clawing and fighting his way out of the cage they'd tried to keep him in. They wouldn't have a chance to cage his child. His son would never know that unnatural, deceitful life. A nurse wasn't a perfect solution, but it would be the best he could do for the kid.

  He couldn't trust Shaina to keep the unborn child healthy, so here he was in California, chasing her down, the jet standing by to take her back to his ranch where his guards would keep her out of trouble and away from drugs and alcohol until the baby was born. He had a team of doctors at his disposal, the best his research could find in Texas, and he was going to make certain the kid had the best possible start.

  Jake swore viciously again. Shaina could drive off a cliff for all he cared, but he made it clear that he owned her father's company, had bought up the stock, and he would ruin them all if they dared cross him. The child was his, bought and paid for. Shaina was not going to endanger it. He had turned the tables neatly, ruthlessly, finding a bitter pl
easure in all their shocked faces.

  Shaina, damn her, had no right to drink herself silly and poison the unborn baby. She had no right to go off with a drunken fool when she was so close to delivery. She had thought herself safe, a thousand miles away from his home state, never dreaming he would be concerned enough about the baby to track her down.

  With each passing mile, he shortened the distance between the Ferrari and Porsche, closing the gap steadily, relentlessly. He could see the convertible now, weaving all over the highway, crossing the center line, changing lanes, tires squealing in protest around every sharp curve. He was right above them looking down and he saw Shaina move her hand to caress the driver's lap. The Porsche swerved again right into the other lane.

  Suddenly his heart jumped again, and an icy shiver feathered down his spine. He caught a glimpse of a little Volkswagen Bug puttering along, two turns ahead, coming right into the path of destruction. Jake actually called out a warning, totally helpless to stop the inevitable.

  The collision rocked the ground, shattering the peace of the night, a cacophony of terrible noises he would never forget. Grinding metal, the scream of brakes, the force of the vehicles coming together, folding like accordions. The sight and sounds sent chills down his spine. Sparks flew, the convertible tumbled over and over, spilling gas everywhere. The Volkswagen, a compacted scrap of twisted metal, slammed into the mountain, flames licking its length and up along the dried grass.

  The smell of gas and flames and blood hit him hard. Jake hesitated long enough to report the accident from his cell phone. Leaping from the Ferrari, he sprinted toward the closest car, the crushed Volkswagen. The road was strewn with shattered glass and metal fragments. Shaina and her new boyfriend lay motionless on the ground in the distance, blood running from them in streams. Neither had been wearing a seat belt, and both had been thrown several feet from the car. He doubted if anyone could have lived through the force of that head-on collision, but something propelled him forward in spite of the flames moving quickly along the road.