Phantom Game (GhostWalkers 18) - Page 51

Her heart beat too fast, and she knew they both heard and felt it, because they were connected to both networks. She still couldn’t bring herself to drop from either network. That closeness gave her access to his mind. She didn’t want to be alone. She liked feeling so close to him. She might tell herself it was easier to know he wasn’t betraying her, but she knew it was more than that.

He pulled her up against him. She should have already accustomed herself to the feel of his body; the steel trap of her mind had already noted, analyzed and cataloged every tiny detail with immaculate precision, but each time he touched her, she felt the same wild flutter in her belly. A silly reaction she couldn’t quite suppress. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. He was built like a leopard, all roped muscle, his body dense and hard, and she found everything about him utterly thrilling. She wanted to breathe him in, lick him up, rub the entirety of her body all over the entirety of his.

His eyes blazed down into hers. Wholly focused. Intense. She couldn’t look away. Captivated by that predator’s stare. Had it only been that fierce, possessive gaze, she might have tried to break free, but there was too much warmth, something she’d had so little of—and she needed desperately. Then his lips were on hers and she couldn’t think anymore. It was impossible with her brain melting. Every nerve ending in her body flared to life. Her veins flooded with adrenaline. Her panties were damp, her breasts ached. She’d never been so aware of being female in her life.

His mouth was pure fire. Addicting. The heat, scorching. Winding one leg around his thigh to get closer, blood pounded through her veins, thundered in her ears and settled wickedly in her sex as she pressed even closer to relieve the ache. Her bow and quiver of arrows dug deep into her shoulder, bringing her out of the foggy sex-induced euphoria.

Camellia pressed her forehead hard against Jonas’s shoulder. “I can’t breathe.” Clearly, she couldn’t think either. She was a sitting duck out in the open the way she was. She presented a great target, and kissing Jonas had made her forget all about the bullseye on her back.

Middlemist Red’s network connected with the mycelium and began working to change the humidity there at the edge of the clearing. The abrupt shift in heat and air caused droplets to condense and merge and form clouds that weren’t quite heavy enough to break open and rain. The clouds dropped lower and lower until they were dark and rolling along the ground, creating a fog bank that thickened and began to spread through the small clearing where the boulders were.

“Camellia?” Jonas’s tone was low. A question. “You doing this?”

“I don’t like feeling like I have a target on my forehead. Your friends are good, Jonas. They’re hidden and I can’t see them. If I can’t see them, it’s only fair they have a difficult time seeing me. I would feel so much better.”

Jonas didn’t release her, just kept her close to him as he studied the layers of grayish-lavender fog rolling through the trees. “You really managed to create that?”

“Not on my own,” she conceded. She was a little reluctant to get into the way she’d done it. She knew Jonas thought somehow she’d managed to warm the ground through the mycelium network beneath them, which was partially true.

“This is how you created a rain forest right in the middle of a high-altitude forest where snow would otherwise be a problem.” His eyes blazed down at her, so heated they looked liquefied, pure molten gold. He framed her face with both hands, bending his head to hers. “Woman, you have no idea just what a treasure you are, do you?”

She had no time to absorb his question. Or the fact that he truly meant it. His mouth once more descended on hers, and he swept her up in his fire. She opened her mouth, breathed in his heat and lost herself to the flames.

It was Jonas who lifted his head, looking over her shoulder, while she pressed her forehead hard into his chest. “The fog is so thick, it is difficult to see anything. If I put my arm out, even I can’t see it.”

“That’s the point.” The sound of her voice was muffled against his shirt but also by the fog. “If we move carefully, there is no way a sniper can find either of us.”

“Can I do this, Camellia? Create a fog like this if my team were on a mission and we got in trouble? Would I be able to conceal them from snipers?”

She nodded, although she did so slowly. She knew sooner or later he was going to ask that question.

Tags: Christine Feehan GhostWalkers Paranormal
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