Predatory Game

by Christine Feehan

  And she did feel lousy. Her head hurt, her body ached, and there was no doubt she needed aspirin. Muttering to herself, she ground fresh beans and obediently put on a pot of coffee.

  Jess found her slumped in a chair, elbows on the table, head cradled in her hands. He glided up beside her on silent wheels. "Are you sure you should be out of bed, angel face?" he asked gently.

  "Of course not," she retorted, without looking up. "The place is being overrun by your women. Someone had to do something."

  His mouth twitched but he remained silent as he poured her a glass of orange juice and set it next to her elbow. "Drink."

  She lifted her head. "Chaleen? Is someone really named Chaleen?" Her voice held a wealth of scorn.

  He tactfully refrained from pointing out she had an unusual name too.

  Saber drank half the glass in a gulp. "How many more should I expect?"

  "Now, honey," he soothed, deliberately feeding the fire. "She's very nice."

  "Some people probably thought Jack the Ripper was nice too. For heaven's sake, Jesse, she wears dead animals." She glared at him as if he'd slain and slaughtered the poor creatures with his own blood-soaked hands to make Chaleen darling's coat. "You were actually the lover of a woman who wears dead animals. That's so disgusting."

  He tugged at one of her wild curls. "She's not that bad."

  Blue eyes shot violet sparks. "Oh yes, she was--is. Who should I expect next? Attila the Hun's wife? You owe me for this, hot shot. I've probably saved you from a fate worse than death. That vamp had designs on your virtue." She had designs on more than that, but Saber was going to have to take a little time to figure out what.

  He nudged the juice a little closer to her, silently urging her to drink more. "I don't know, Saber, it might have been fun."

  "Don't give me that, Calhoun." Saber raked a hand through her hair in total exasperation. "You were terrified she was going to throw herself at you and you know it. I could see it in your eyes."

  He grinned at her. "Hallucinations again. I'd better call the doc in after all."

  She rolled her eyes. "The last time your doctor was here, he insisted I get a flu shot right along with you, and look what happened. I've never been sick until now and what do I have--the flu."

  "Drink your juice." This time he shoved the glass into her hand.

  She sent him a smoldering glare, but when he didn't wither, she took a sip. "Actually, I don't blame you a bit for wanting to change the subject. If I had such poor taste in my youth, I wouldn't want to dwell on it either," she sniffed.

  "So did you? Have bad taste I mean? In your youth?"

  Instantly a shutter slammed down, laughter fading from her dancing eyes and leaving them veiled, shadowed, even haunted. Saber shrugged the question away casually, too casually. "Good juice, Jesse. Is this fresh squeezed?"

  "Of course. What else would I do with you ill?" He ran his knuckles along her cheek in a rough caress. "How are you feeling this morning? I was worried last night."

  "Better. I'll go to work tonight," she assured him.

  "Saber, don't be ridiculous. You're not well." He laid a cool hand on her forehead. "You're still running a fever."

  "I'm better," she insisted.

  "Uh-huh, I can tell." He couldn't help smiling. Sitting curled up in the oak chair, clad in his robe, black hair tousled, long lashes sweeping the curve of her cheek, Saber was irresistible. Jess had to touch her, wanted to hold her. His finger traced the back of her hand, just to keep the contact. "I am your boss, baby, and I say you don't go to work tonight."

  She tilted her chin. "Do I get it off with pay?"

  "You drive a hard bargain."

  "I'll get your coffee," Saber volunteered.

  "Sit. I'll get the coffee. You finish that juice and get back to bed." Jess easily reached the coffeemaker sitting on the low counter.

  "So, all right, I'll admit I'm hooked. Does Chaleen work for the CIA, or is she some agent for another government?"

  Jess concentrated his entire attention on pouring himself a cup of coffee.

  Saber ruffled his hair. "Never mind, dragon king. I don't want you to have to lie to me."

  His hand reached up to cover hers, fingers sliding sensuously between hers. Before she could pull away, he captured her hand, brought it to his chest. "I'm willing to trade, baby."

  Saber could feel the steady beat of his heart. For some odd reason she had the urge to lay her head on his chest. She couldn't look into his probing eyes. "I don't have anything to trade."

  His eyebrow shot up, but before he could respond, the shrill ringing of the telephone interrupted them. He grinned, white teeth flashing. "You have a guardian angel." Jess reached a lazy hand out for the receiver. "Yes?"

  Saber rolled her eyes at his unconventional greeting. A faint scowl flitted across his features, and for a brief moment his dark gaze rested on her small face.

  "She's ill, Les, she's not coming in tonight." Deliberately, he ignored Saber's frantic signals, holding the receiver away from her, fending her off with one hand.

  "I can go in if they need me," she hissed. Her gaze slid over his rough good looks and narrowed speculatively. Was that a smear of bright red lipstick along the bluish shadow of his jaw? Her fist clenched. Had he allowed that witch to kiss him?

  "What kind of calls? Threats? What the hell does 'not exactly' mean?" Jess sounded impatient. "If someone is harassing the station, or Saber in particular, call the police."

  "No." Saber made another grab at the telephone, her face pale. "Jesse," she wailed when he whirled his chair around, keeping his back to her, preventing her from getting to the receiver.

  "What exactly is he saying? Yes, that's right. Call the security company, have them double the guard around the station. Brady's security tonight? Have him give me a call. Sure, Les, thanks for calling." He dropped the receiver in its cradle and turned his chair to face her.

  "That was my phone call, Jesse," Saber protested, her heart slamming in alarm, "you had no right to keep me from it."

  As usual, he didn't seem to be the least bit intimidated or upset by her outburst. "Sit down before you fall down," he suggested calmly. "You're trembling."

  "With anger," she exploded, but she did sit, afraid her shaking legs wouldn't support her.

  "With fear. Tell me about it, Saber. Who are you expecting? Just how dangerous is he?"

  Stubbornly her chin went up. "It is not my fault some crackpot is calling the station. It happens. It doesn't have a thing to do with me. Triple the guard at the station for all I care."

  "Don't worry," Jess said, "I will. Les says the man has called nine times, last night and this morning. Brian recorded a couple of the calls on his shift as well. He hasn't threatened you, but he wants to meet you."

  "Everyone wants to meet me. I'm cute."

  "Your voice is sexy as hell and these creeps get all sorts of ideas."

  "Will you please wipe that disgusting stuff off your face? I can barely stand to look at you," she snapped.

  His eyebrow shot up. "What disgusting stuff?"

  "You know very well. You just had to let her kiss you, and you've got her lipstick all over you."

  His eyes burned black velvet. "You'll have to do it, honey. I can't see it."

  Saber shook her head. "No way. You let her put it there, you can just get it off yourself."

  Jess shrugged. "I guess it will just have to stay."

  She glared at him. "You know where she kissed you."

  "I don't remember." He had to work to keep the grin from his face.

  Furious, Saber jumped up, wet a cloth, and bent over him, scrubbing at the offensive smear of lipstick along his jaw. "I could just smack you one, Jesse."

  He pulled her onto his lap, exactly where he had planned to have her from the moment she had come downstairs. "Thank you, baby, I appreciate it. I wouldn't have liked going around all day with Chaleen's brand on me."

  "But you would have." Saber wasn't ready to forgive him. "A
ll day, just to make me crazy."

  "Would it have?"

  "Of course."

  "Well, since we're talking." He pulled the military issue knife from his pack and held it up in front of her. "I thought I'd return this to you."

  She went absolutely still. "Where did you find that?" She didn't touch it.

  "You had a nightmare. Before you woke up, you tried to protect yourself."

  Saber jumped off his lap, careful to avoid the knife, and stared at him, a look of horror stamped on her pale face. "I did what? I attacked you, Jesse?"

  Tears swam in her eyes, and when he moved toward her, she backed away, putting one hand on his arm to keep him at a distance. "No. No. If I did that, it's not safe for you anymore. I have to leave. I can't believe I did that."

  It wasn't the reaction he wanted or expected. If she was an actress, she was the best he'd ever seen. He could feel her distress, waves of it rolling off of her, distress and fear. Both emotions were broadcast so strong they swamped him. His body reacted with signs of stress, heart rate increasing so dramatically that he pressed his hand to his chest.

  Her eyes widened even more and she snatched her hand away from him, rubbing her palm on her thigh, fear in her eyes. "What's wrong? Is it your heart? Jesse, answer me right now."

  He felt instant relief, the heaviness in his chest easing, his heart slowing to normal. "I'm fine, baby, just sit down and stop getting upset over nothing."

  "Pulling a knife on you is not 'nothing,' Jesse."

  "I pulled a gun on you. We're a violent couple."

  "That's not funny. None of this is funny. I keep the knife in my bedroom for protection, but I never thought I'd ever have a nightmare and try to use it on someone. I can't stay here."

  Saber took a deep calming breath and forced air through her lungs, trying to remain calm. Oh God, had she almost killed him? First with her touch and then with a knife? She wanted to run fast and far away from herself.

  The faint humor left his face, leaving his expression bleak and cold. "Don't be ridiculous, Saber. You can throw the knife away if you're afraid, but leaving doesn't solve anything."

  If only it were so easy as throwing away a knife.

  "Leaving keeps you safe."

  "Does it? Does it really?"

  She was so upset. She'd never been sick before--not once in her entire life. And she'd never made such a mistake before, yet was Jess in danger? Did Chaleen present a danger to him? And there was the uneasiness she couldn't shake, that feeling of being watched. She'd even gone out the night before around four in the morning and patrolled the parameters of the property, but she hadn't seen anyone. She intended to do the same tonight, because she was going to make absolutely certain she wasn't bringing her hell down on Jesse.

  She hopped up, needing to put distance between them. "I don't want to talk to you anymore. I'm going upstairs."

  A muscle twitched along his jaw. "Go on, Saber, run like a little rabbit, stick your head under the covers."

  Saber fled without a backward glance, racing for the sanctuary of her room. She'd pulled a knife on Jess and he'd been able to disarm her. It had to have been because she was still asleep. He couldn't use his legs. He was helpless, really. Burying her head in the pillow, she tried to make her mind blank, tried to block out the image of hurting the one person in the world she cared about.

  But he was helpless. And he had enemies, maybe as many as she did. Someone had to take care of him. He didn't realize how vulnerable he really was in that chair. He needed her. Needed her to watch over him. She lay awake staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out the right thing to do without having to give him up.

  Subject Wynter. Something happened tonight while I was away. Subject left the residence, which leads me to believe the virus had little effect on her. She nearly caught me. I was about to turn on the road when she pulled in before me. In order to keep from giving myself away I continued on away from the residence. I believe she is beginning to suspect she's under surveillance. I believe we're going to need another pair of eyes and ears to maintain adequate...

  He stopped dictating abruptly.

  He didn't want anyone else around to witness any fun he might have while gathering information--after all, that was his business. He erased the entire tape. It wasn't his night for surveillance. If she'd left the residence and hadn't been caught, that wasn't on him. No one would be the wiser that he'd wanted another glimpse of her window, that sometimes he just sat listening to her voice on tape and staring at her bedroom in the hopes he'd catch a glimpse of her. He found it exhilarating to sit just down the road from her, in plain sight, creating his plans for the sexy little siren--he had so many.

  CHAPTER 5

  "Wake up, Saber," Jess called from the bottom of the stairs. "I know you can hear me. Come on down here."

  He had to see her. It was pathetic how much he needed her, how much joy she brought to his life.

  "Go away." Her voice was muffled, confirming his suspicions that she had the covers over her head to block out the sunlight. "I just got to bed."

  Saber wasn't certain she could face him. The idea that she had tried to kill him had haunted her all night. And what if she hadn't tried to use a knife? He would never have known, would never have been able to defend himself.

  "It's your own fault you didn't go to bed last night. And you can forget any sympathy from me, not after the way you woke me up at five a.m. with that crap you call music."

  She answered him with total silence. She was ashamed of her loss of control. She covered her face with her hands and could have wept in despair.

  Downstairs, Jess heaved a sigh. "I'm serious, angel face, you don't get down here in five minutes, I'm coming up after you. And if you put me to all that trouble, you won't like the consequences," he threatened.

  He heard her stirring, muttering. Something hit the wall and he grinned. Saber padded down the hallway on bare feet, rubbing her eyes drowsily with her fists. At the banister, she leaned her head over, her shining hair an intriguing mass of unruly curls. She was wearing what looked to be one of his old shirts, one he was certain he had tossed out recently. The thought made him smile.

  "What exactly do you want, dragon king? Because this is totally uncivilized behavior," she accused. "Even for you."

  She looked incredibly small and feminine, her huge eyes so drowsy they seemed to be an open invitation to temptation. She looked like sin and sex to him, all rolled up together, and his body responded in the now-familiar way, hard and aching with a demand he was afraid would never quite be sated.

  "My willpower is dwindling away," he muttered.

  "What?" Saber looked more confused than ever. "Jesse, you are making absolutely no sense. Not that I think you make much sense anyway, but it's only noon. Noon is the same to me as three in the morning is to someone else. I am in deep sleep mode. I don't care how cute you think you are, go away and stop bothering me."

  "Stop complaining and get down here. Patsy's on her way." Cute? She found him cute? Like some teddy bear. That was worse than if she'd called him sweet. He was going to show her cute if she kept looking at him like that.

  "Patsy?" Saber groaned and shook her head. "Oh, Jess, no. I cannot take your sister on no sleep. She thinks I'm ten and you're a pervert out to ruin my virtue."

  "Well, don't feel bad. Usually she thinks the woman is a vamp and is after my virtue so really, you're the lucky one this time."

  She sat at the top of the stairs, smoothing her shirt tail over her knees, her hair wild and her lashes drooping. "Poor Patsy. She's always trying to look out for someone. I like her, I really do, but she's..." She stopped, searching for the right word to describe his older sister.

  He found himself smiling. She always managed to make him smile. "A stick of dynamite? Come on, baby, grab a shower and eat something. By the time she gets here, you'll be in great shape."

  "I'm never in great shape around Patsy," she muttered. "Can't we pretend I'm not here? I could stay u
p here sleeping." Patsy was wonderful and so loving, but she wanted to take care of Saber. No one had ever tried to take care of her. She was a very solitary person and the people around her had always avoided touching her--with good reason. Patsy, however, had no idea of personal space. She hugged and kissed and generally tried to run Saber's life--in the nicest way possible of course, and maybe that was the biggest problem. Saber was growing too fond of her as well.

  "And leave me to face her alone?" Jess scoffed. "No way. Not a chance in hell. Get dressed and get your very awesome ass down here." Jess rubbed his shadowed jaw thoughtfully. "I'd better shave."

  "Jesse," she wailed, trying not to be pleased at his "awesome ass" comment. "Why drag me into this? She's your sister." He looked good. He brought such sunshine into her life. And he made her feel special, as if he couldn't deal with life without her. She wanted him. Wanted him. Ached for him.

  "You're my housekeeper. Helping out with guests is part of your job. Now stop being a little complainer and get down here."

  Saber forced a glare when she wanted to laugh, just because he was incredibly beautiful and he wasn't holding a grudge over the way she'd tried to stab him. "You owe me big time for this, Jesse."

  Jess regretfully turned his back on her, although the sight of her lingered in his mind. Saber couldn't have been more beautiful if she had spent all day locked in a beauty parlor with a team of makeup experts. The sight of her slender, bare legs and fresh, soft skin put far too many erotic thoughts in his head.

  Saber was falling in love with him, she just didn't know it. He rubbed his jaw, hoping he was right. He was happy around her. He loved their strange conversations and her causes. He liked watching the expressions chase across her face. She had to be falling in love with him. She was running in every direction but the one she should be. She belonged with him, and whether it was the right time or not for either of them, he was going to make certain she stayed where she belonged.

  Patsy Calhoun was tall with a woman's curvy figure, a generous mouth, and rich dark hair spilling around her face in a soft feminine sweep emphasizing her cheekbones. Normally she was smiling and looked sophisticated and in absolute control, but when Saber opened the door, she was leaning against the wall in tears.