Lethal Game

by Christine Feehan

  He’d never felt inferior before. Never. Not around any of them. But he hadn’t been lying in a bed with a leg that wasn’t worth shit while the woman he wanted most in the world to see him as someone worthwhile was surrounded by men who could do just about anything. Hell. She’d had to save his life, not just with her healing skills but by following him when he’d allowed himself to get kidnapped.

  He’d been so arrogant, it hadn’t occurred to him that Mills would kick the shit out of his injured leg. He should have. He’d exposed that injury to the enemy on purpose, using it as an excuse to go into the water so Shevfield could make his try. He’d been so damned smug. Now, seeing the men he admired most, the men he thought of as his family, he could barely stand being in bed, the one they all had to rally around because he couldn’t take care of business himself. He wanted to be there for his woman, not have his family do it for him.

  “We’re soldiers, babe. All soldiers take chances. You certainly have. I know that Whitney’s training exercises are often very lethal. You managed to escape and stay out of the sights of Whitney and any of his spies.”

  “Why are you doing this?” There was hurt in her voice. “Did you need your friend to tell you that you shouldn’t try to exercise that leg yet because he’s male? A hotshot doctor? I told you and you just ignored my advice.”

  He winced. He hadn’t looked at it the way she might. “My working the leg or not working it has nothing to do with Trap. I listened to you. And I’ll even admit, on some level I knew you were right. I just didn’t want it to be true.”

  “Why?”

  She hadn’t moved. She remained pressing her body against the door, her large blue eyes reflecting the light from the lamp by the bed.

  “Baby, come here,” he insisted. He didn’t want to sound like a self-pitying wimp, and he would if he had to explain to her that he was jealous of his friends.

  “I need to know what’s going on with you, Malichai. This isn’t easy for me. I thought we’d go back to the swamp and meet your friends one at a time, in a casual setting. They’re taking over my bed-and-breakfast. I’m not saying I’m not grateful for the help—I am—but they know more about what’s going on than I do. These are my guests. My friends. I feel responsible for them. Before, you listened to me. You talked to me. We were a team. Now, I don’t know what you’re doing or thinking, and I feel very lost.”

  That was the last thing he wanted. “Please come here to me, Amaryllis. I’m feeling a little lost myself. I’ve never been in a relationship, and I’ve never had an injury that sidelined me at the worst possible time. There’s something . . .” He couldn’t put it into words, but something was really wrong with his leg. He could feel it. He knew the damage, whatever it was, wasn’t going away anytime soon—if ever—and he needed to be one hundred percent to help his team against this new, very elusive threat. Maybe he was doing what he always did, working harder, trying to focus his attention on healing his injury faster by working it. Pushing himself to get stronger.

  “What is it, Malichai? Talk to me.”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to lose you.” He just blurted it out. He hadn’t meant to say it. He hadn’t even wanted to think it.

  She tilted her head to one side and frowned. “Malichai, that doesn’t make any sense at all. We’re already together. I made a commitment to you. You have to talk to me and sort out what you’re really feeling.”

  “Then come over here.” He held out his hand. The anxiety in him was increasing, not decreasing. That part of him that always knew when something wasn’t right. It was all-encompassing now, swamping him. The urge to move, to throw the covers back and get up and start taking care of every problem was so strong he actually turned in the bed to drop his feet toward the door.

  The movement galvanized Amaryllis into action. “Don’t you dare, Malichai.” She leapt across the room, proving immediately that she was definitely a GhostWalker. She crossed the room in one single jump, landing beside the bed and putting a hand to his chest to deter him. “I think you need to learn to verbalize, Malichai.”

  That made him want to smile in spite of the churning in his gut, telling him something was off and danger was imminent. “I’m more of an action type.”

  “You have the most unusual eyes, almost golden. At night they shine back at me. Sometimes, when you’re upset or worried, the shine becomes a glow and you look very dangerous.” She frowned and leaned in to rub the pad of her finger across his lips. “Like now, Malichai. You look like a very lethal predator.”

  “Not to you, Amaryllis.”

  “I know that. Honey, why would you think that you would lose me? It has something to do with your team showing up, and don’t try to tell me differently. You began to withdraw the moment they all began to call in saying they were here.”

  He shrugged, deciding truth was better than deception. “I’m going to look whiny and jealous, but better you see now that I can be that way than much later when we’re married and we have a few dozen kids . . .”

  “Stop.” Laughing, she pushed at his hip so he moved over, and she could sit on the bed with him. “You’re so crazy. Who in the world are you jealous of? Please don’t say Trap. First, the man isn’t exactly filled with scintillating conversation and he’s very abrupt about his wife’s pregnancy . . .”

  He loved her laughter and let it soothe him, but he didn’t want her to think Trap didn’t pay attention to his wife. “Trap adores Cayenne.” Still, he liked that she was annoyed with Trap. The man had money, was good-looking and had two good legs.

  “He may adore her, honey, but to dismiss the fact that she might give birth any moment because there are doctors around is ludicrous. She’s counting on him and he’s thinking with some lofty part of his brain, not his heart. He needs to be her husband, not her doctor, who, by the way, has never actually delivered a baby out of his va-jay-jay so he needs to be just a little more thoughtful on the subject.”

  Malichai stared at her for a moment and then burst out laughing. “I’m falling more in love with you every minute. I do have to agree with you there. Trap thinks she can deliver a baby and just go right on fighting in the jungle. He might get a bit of a surprise with this one.”

  “So, stop worrying about me wanting to be with someone else, it’s ludicrous.”

  “I don’t stack up very well against men who have two legs and can take care of the enemy while I lie in bed twiddling my thumbs.” He laid it out for her.

  Amaryllis stared at him for a long time. Too long. His stomach dropped. She knelt up on the bed in front of him, framed his face with both hands and leaned in to brush her lips against his. Featherlight. The touch sent desire slipping into every cell in his body. Gently. A unique invasion. The sensation was so gentle, barely there, but every bit as impactful, craving building slowly but never stopping.

  Then her teeth tugged at his lower lip. Her tongue slid along the seam of his mouth. He opened his mouth and she was there, pouring need and passion into him. Pouring something else that felt like love. He was so unfamiliar with that emotion that at first, he wasn’t certain what it was that surrounded him and lifted him up. That he chased after. That he craved.

  His arms went around her, locking her to him, and he took over the kiss. He was rougher than he intended, but she was driving him insane with need. With the possibility that she really would choose him no matter what.

  “Lose the panties, Amaryllis.” He kept kissing her, his hand in her hair, bunching it in his fist, making it difficult for her to comply, but it didn’t matter. He had to keep kissing her. Her taste, the one that sent that emotion rocketing through his body, moving through him to center in his groin, drove him beyond all sanity. He wanted her with every breath he took. He needed her right then even more than that.

  She struggled to obey him, dragging her jeans and panties down her legs all the while kissing him back. It should have been aw
kward and impossible, but somehow, they made it work, and then she was straddling his lap, lowering herself slowly over him.

  His cock was on fire. Burning. Throbbing. It felt like a steel spike and she felt so tight as she sheathed him, inch by slow inch, that he thought his head might explode. She strangled him, a scorching-hot vise surrounding him with a silken fist.

  Malichai threw back his head, wanting to roar with pleasure, but he stayed as silent as possible when she began to move at his urging. “That’s it, baby, ride me.” His hands guided her.

  Amaryllis caught on fast, her muscles squeezing, biting down as she moved up and down his shaft, massaging and milking, the friction almost unbearable. He wasn’t certain if it was pleasure he’d never known, or passion that bordered and rode that fine edge of pain because that silken fist was so tight. Whichever it was didn’t matter, because he never wanted it to stop.

  She threw back her head and picked up the pace so that his breath exploded out of his lungs in time with hers. She looked beautiful, exotic, so perfect there in the dark, her body surrounding his, his cock buried deep inside her. He loved knowing she was his woman. Some men needed many to make themselves feel like a man. He had always needed one. The only. Now that he had her, he knew why.

  Every movement of her body sent little bolts of lightning forking through his entire being, so that flames rushed through his veins like a drug. His hips thrust hard, an automatic, nearly desperate response. He never wanted this to end. He let himself get lost in her, in all that fiery heat. He caught her hips and took over, using his strength to power her body to pound down over his. Each streak of that tight silken fist pounding up and down his shaft and over the sensitive crown nearly had him losing all control.

  He held on grimly, forcing himself to look at his woman. To see her face, feel how close she was. She made little noises, a kind of soft moan that added to the need building so high in him. Everything about Amaryllis was perfection to him. Just looking at her, the way she threw her head back with abandon, the way she gave herself to him, total surrender, the way she moved her body over his, as if she could never get enough of his cock, and the expression of bliss on her face, all heightened his pleasure.

  “You there, baby? You need to get there.”

  “I’m there.” She panted the words, her breath as ragged as his.

  He took her over the edge, took them both tumbling off into space somewhere, while the fire consumed them and the stars surrounded them. Her body gripped his so tightly, he thought he’d have the imprint of her sheath on his shaft, but it felt like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Pure fire enclosing him in a world of sensation. Searing him, branding him. Velvet stroked him. Silk gripped him. Her music surrounded him.

  He held her to him, trying desperately to find air. Emotion overwhelmed him, rising out of nowhere, shocking him. He tightened his hold on her, locking her close, forcing her face against his chest so she couldn’t look up at him. He knew his vulnerability to her was naked on his face. There was no way around it, not right then.

  Amaryllis didn’t fight him. She snuggled closer to him, her arms just as tight around him. She seemed to almost know before he did what he needed. Sometimes he was aware of the press of her lips against his skin. Other times it was the fan of her lashes against him, but she didn’t lose patience, and just let him come down from the rush at his own pace.

  When he could finally pull his thoughts together, he loosened his arms and reluctantly allowed her to slide off him. He found it amazing to be so connected to another human being, not just their bodies, sharing the same skin, but their minds and even hearts. He’d shied away from that thought from the beginning, but he had to face it. He was already all in. Completely.

  Malichai searched his mind while she headed for the bathroom. She had alleviated that nagging fear—that she wouldn’t want him now that he wasn’t a hundred percent with a battle possibly looming. Why was his gut still churning and his radar going off so persistently? Something was wrong and it wasn’t going away because his woman had just given him the best sex he’d ever had.

  Amaryllis returned, dressed in capri yoga pants and a short tank top that hugged her breasts and left her midriff bare. When she moved, he could see the alluring underside of her breasts peeking out. He liked the sight of her. She looked around for somewhere to put her clothes and her gaze fell on his face. Instantly, she froze, her entire attention on him.

  “What is it, Malichai? I thought we took care of your worries.”

  “I thought so too. My gut still says something is very, very wrong.”

  “I’ll go check out the kitchen.” She glanced at her watch. “It won’t take any time to walk through the halls just to make certain everything is all right.”

  Malichai stiffened. “I’m not lying here in bed while you put yourself in danger. We don’t even know how bad the leg is this time.”

  “I know how bad. I did my best, but those fractures in the bone are persistent. They keep returning. I don’t know if they were already coming back before Mills kicked you, or if that brought them out again. The reason doesn’t matter right this moment, it only matters that they’re there. Rubin worked on you for hours. I did as well. Nothing can mess that up. He told you to rest the leg, Malichai, and you have to do what he says.”

  Rubin had avoided his eyes when he’d given him instructions on resting. “I’m not moving around, Amaryllis. Just lying right here.” His voice held reluctance. He realized his entire body did. Something was wrong and he’d been looking outside himself for an external reason. Now, he realized, his radar was going off, warning him that the problem was with him. With his leg. His physical makeup.

  “Malichai?” She put her clothes on top of his dresser. “What is it?”

  She was growing very adept at reading him. He wasn’t certain that was a good thing. He shoved both hands through his hair and looked at her. She was beautiful, ready for bed, ready to snuggle next to him. He wanted that closeness with her more than anything—other than losing his leg.

  “I’m going to call Rubin in right now to examine my leg with you, but as much as I love that top, he doesn’t get to see you looking like that. Only me. And I’m going to tell you up front that he’s a good-looking man and if you look like you’re going to trade up, I’m killing him.”

  She burst out laughing, the sound filling the room and pushing some of the sour notes from his knotted belly.

  “I’ll make certain I won’t look like I’m trading up, so you won’t have to go to all that trouble. Finding places for buried bodies is getting difficult these days.”

  “Thanks for that show of solidarity.”

  “Anything for you, honey.” She whipped her little half shirt off and reached for her tee with deliberate slowness. Her firm breasts were high, calling to him immediately. She smirked as she pulled the T-shirt over her head, covering temptation.

  “I can see that.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

  She laughed again. “I’ll just check the kitchen while you call in that healer.”

  “You’re not checking the kitchen without backup,” he said stubbornly.

  “You just pointed out that I’m a GhostWalker. Do you always need backup? And it’s my kitchen. I know every tiny inch of this house.”

  He’d hit her in her pride. “Fine, babe.” He waved her toward the door. “I’ll call Rubin in and you be back here in fifteen.” He made a show of looking at his watch. Trap, Amaryllis is heading to the kitchen and then to look around and make certain everything’s tucked in tight. Can you shadow her? Not let her see you?

  No problem. If not me, Cayenne will.

  Malichai tried not to wince. Amaryllis had been right. Trap wasn’t worried in the least about Cayenne’s pregnancy. As far as he was concerned, it was a natural part of the cycle of life. Women had been giving birth since the dawn of time. He was one of those men w
ho thought she should give birth, cut the cord herself, put the baby in a sling and hoe an entire field. Malichai couldn’t afford the time to tell him differently, not right then. And Cayenne was a warrior through and through. Also, she could make herself incredibly small and crawl across a ceiling without being seen.

  Going to call Rubin in tonight. I have a bad feeling about my leg.

  Instantly Trap’s attention was captured and Malichai knew there was no way Trap would be shadowing Amaryllis.

  Bad feeling? About your leg? I’ll come right up.

  I want Amaryllis safe.

  Trap stopped answering immediately, as was his way. Malichai cursed under his breath. He shouldn’t have said anything at all. Rubin was a very strong psychic. He could bridge a telepathic gap even for those with little or no telepathic ability. Still, it was Ezekiel Malichai reached for. His older brother had always been the one they turned to when things weren’t good. He needed Ezekiel there. He needed his brother just to be in the room with him.

  Zeke, need you to ask Rubin to slip in and take a look at my leg.

  Silence stretched for so long, at first Malichai didn’t think they’d connected. Then his brother’s voice slipped into his mind and with it, worry. You mean right now, tonight? Are you all right?

  Just want his opinion, nothing big. Have any of you examined Cayenne? Do you know when she’s supposed to give birth? Deliberately, he changed the subject.

  Cayenne had slowly managed to invade their hearts. She was a fierce warrior and she went her own way. She knew little about life outside the cage she’d been raised in, but she was learning, mostly about Trap’s world, his wants and needs. But she loved Nonny, Pepper and the five little girls who were Wyatt and Pepper’s.

  Do you honestly think Cayenne is going to let us examine her that way? She’d probably throw a web around us and hang us upside down for a while from a tree. Trap’s been her doc.