Conspiracy Game (GhostWalkers 4)

"You were thinking about the baby. You didn't want to come here," Jack pointed out. If she was going to be honest about the things she'd glimpsed, so could he. They had to come to an understanding at some point. She wasn't ready yet, and he didn't blame her, but he wasn't going to pretend with her. She'd come to him. She had to know what kind of man she was dealing with. "I intend for you to make this your home."

"I'm going to take one day at a time. I'm too comfortable with your touch, and I don't trust myself around you anymore."

"Don't worry, baby, if you try to jump me, I'll fend you off."

She smiled, just as he knew she would. "Don't think it couldn't happen."

The smile faded slowly and she looked frightened, so much so that Jack wrapped his arm around her waist. "What is it?"

"Doesn't that bother you? What he did to us? You don't have to even like me as a person, Jack. All that matters is having sex together."

He reached for her hand, held it close to his chest, rubbing her skin with his thumb. "I've got news for you, Briony. Most men are just fine with that."

She yanked her hand away. "So I found out." Hunching one shoulder, she turned on her side. "Isn't there another bedroom where I can sleep?"

"No. You can sleep in here. I have to be able to watch over you."

That low note of command was back in his voice, the one that grated on her nerves and implied that he was in complete control, while she was a victim of her runaway hormones.

"Do you ever ask?"

Jack didn't know why her sarcasm made him want to smile. "No. What would be the point? You're so tired, Briony, you don't know what you're doing or saying anymore. I'm not about to let anything happen to you. If you'd rather I sat in a chair all night, I will, but it won't change how we're both feeling."

"You don't know anything about my feelings."

Exasperated, he caught her hand and forced it between his legs, over the thick bulge pulsing with heat and urgent need. "It's not going to matter a damn whether I'm sitting six feet from you, in the next room, or lying beside you. This isn't going to go away until I'm buried deep inside of you where I belong." He let go of her hand, nearly shoving it away from him. "Now go to sleep before I forget all my good intentions and get a little relief."

Again Briony surprised him. He expected tears--or anger at his rough response, but she laughed softly. "There's some comfort in knowing I'm not the only one suffering."

"You don't have to. You give me the word and we'll both be sleeping like babies." If she said no, he might have no recourse but to head for the shower as soon as possible and relieve the terrible ache. It would be fast and cheap and unsatisfying, but hell, he was going to explode. And he had the sinking feeling the solution wouldn't last more than the next lungful of air he drew.

"I think a little suffering is good for your soul," Briony said.

Her voice was muffled in the pillow, but he was absolutely certain she was laughing at him. Jack contented himself with smacking her on her pretty little rounded ass, and was more than satisfied when she yelped and glared at him. He closed his eyes and tried not to think of her body naked, stretched under his while he drifted off to sleep. He hadn't embarrassed himself since he was twelve, but tonight might start a new phase in his life. Even with his physical discomfort, there was something right about lying beside her, having her close enough to hear her breathing and touch her soft skin--just to know she was there.

He heard her even breathing, slow and rhythmic, and knew she'd finally drifted off. Turning on his side, wrapping his body protectively around hers, he pushed his throbbing groin against the curve of her buttocks, one arm around her, his hand splayed over her stomach to hold their child as he allowed himself to drift into a light sleep.

CHAPTER 12

Briony wandered through the large house, surprised by how spacious it was. The ceilings were high and the rooms open, one running into the next. The house itself was shaped in a U, the kitchen, dining room, and great room separating the two wings. She peeked into the rooms in Jack's wing and found only his bedroom and the bathroom finished. The second bedroom was still under construction, with the walls bare Sheetrock.

In the great room, the furniture was sparse but well made, and she examined it closely, running her hand along the large, wide sofa, remembering Jack admitting that he made all of the furniture. It was beautiful, as were the other pieces, all made of the same hardwood. She didn't know if it was milled from their own trees, but she suspected it was. The cushions were thick and made of leather, obviously custom-made to fit each piece of furniture. Jack continually surprised her.

She followed the rich aroma of fresh coffee into the spacious kitchen and stopped abruptly when she saw the stranger sitting at the table. Even from the back, he looked like Jack, but there was a subtle difference in his scent. She stood in the doorway, reluctant to intrude.

He turned his head and smiled at her. "You must be Briony. Come in and have some breakfast."

He looked like Jack--not as hard, but far more ravaged. The scars marring his skin looked painful and deep, but somehow he managed to look not only confident--but good-looking in a rough pirate sort of way.

He stood up and crossed to the sink. "Coffee or orange juice with breakfast? I'd choose coffee if I were you. Jack's already handing out orders about what you can and can't have. It may be the last time you get close enough to even smell a cup of coffee in a while."

She laughed. "Both then." It was difficult not to stare at him, and she didn't know if it was his resemblance to Jack or the scars. Although Ken was much more mutilated, she recognized the patterns and symmetry of his scarring, so much like those on Jack's body. "Where is he?"

"Left for town before sunup. I think he's buying clothes, groceries, and making you a doctor's appointment." He grinned at her as he held out a chair. "I'd love to be a little fly on the wall when they try to tell him he has to wait a week or two to get you in."

"Want to make a bet whether or not I'll be going today?"

"Hell no. Jack has no social skills. If they give him a hard time, he's liable to pull out a knife this big"--he measured a foot with his hands--"and start cleaning his fingernails. If he wants you seen by a doctor today, you will be."

Briony sank into the chair. "He didn't say anything about a doctor to me."

"You'll get used to him. He doesn't talk much. He's more of a man of action. He muttered something about prenatal care while he was drinking his coffee. I didn't know he knew what prenatal was." Ken placed a plate of food in front of her. "I'm not the best cook, but it's food."

Briony laughed again. "He definitely takes charge. And the food looks good."

Ken lifted his coffee cup, the smile fading from his eyes. "Jack's always had to be in charge, and that won't change. He's a strong man, and he knows what he can and can't have in his life to stay balanced."

"Just say whatever it is you need to say," Briony encouraged.

"Don't push him too hard. And don't hurt him."

Her eyebrow shot up. "That's it? That's the best you can do? I was expecting wisdom, something to make sense of all this, but that's no help." She ran her fingers through her unruly hair. "Give me something else."

Ken glanced right and left and leaned over the table. "He's bossy," he added in a conspiratorial whisper.

"He's a dictator," Briony corrected. "Don't try to soft-soap it for me. You should hear the man throwing out orders left and right."

Ken smirked. "At least now he can order you around instead of me. I owe you for that."

"Don't count on it. I'm betting he has plenty for both of us."

"You have no idea."

There was a short silence, a little awkward in spite of the fact that both of them were trying. Briony took a deep breath and forced a smile. "What are you working on today? Can I help?"

"I'm tiling one of the bathrooms. As you may have noticed, only a few rooms are actually finished. We've been taking our time and trying to get ea

ch room exactly how we want it. Jack wants to start on the second bedroom in his wing so by the time you have the baby, the room will be ready for it."

Briony shook her head. "Don't go to a lot of trouble and expense. I'll be able to protect the baby after it's born. It's just now, when they come at me, I worry they'll hurt the baby, and as I get bigger, I'll probably get slower. I'm not asking Jack to take on the responsibility forever."

"Is Jack the baby's father or not?" Ken asked, his gray eyes darkening, reminding Briony of thunderclouds.

"Jack's definitely the father, but I can understand why you'd ask. I'm not trying to trap him, Ken." Briony felt dark color creeping up her skin.

"I asked because you don't seem to understand my brother. He'll never walk away from you or the baby. You're in his life now. It won't always be pleasant or easy, but he'll protect both of you with his life. He'll make certain you have everything you could ever need--or want--because that's the kind of man he is."

"I know he's honorable," she conceded. She couldn't very well blurt out she wanted more than sex from Jack. She wanted to be loved. She wanted him to love her child, not just feel responsible. Of course Jack would take care of them. His code of honor dictated that he give them his best--but his code wasn't his heart.

Ken tapped the table with his finger, a small rhythm that told her volumes. She studied his face, the gentleness there, the concern, the flicker of unease.

"Jack is...different--extraordinary, but different. It would take a very special woman to live with those differences," Ken said.

"You admire him."

"I know him." He leaned back in his chair, legs sprawled out in front of him. "Most people don't. You'll be living here a long time, Briony. My advice is to get to know him."

It was heartbreaking to stare into the man's ravaged face when he looked so like Jack. Not broken, not unbending--just accepting, as if he took whatever fate threw at him in stride and lived the best he could. That was Jack--and it was apparently his brother too. Briony ducked her head to keep those piercing eyes from reading her expression. She felt at home here. It made no sense, but these men, this house--all of it felt right to her.

Restless, she stood up and crossed to the window. "Is the yard really booby-trapped? I'd like to be able to walk around outside. It's so beautiful."

She heard the chair scrape. No footsteps. For such stocky men, the Norton twins walked softly, but she caught his scent as he neared her--almost the same as Jack's, but with that strange, subtle difference. His hand came over her shoulder with a piece of paper in it.

"My orders," he said.

She took the paper and read the words scrawled in a masculine hand across the sheet. She spun around to face him. "He made you get rid of them all?" For some reason the vise gripping her heart so hard began to ease.

"Every last one, which, I might point out, he insisted we put there in the first place, the jackass. He dragged my butt out of bed at four-thirty this morning to do it too." He grinned at her. "I'm usually much better looking, but he robbed me of my beauty sleep."

Briony burst out laughing. "I slept in. It's almost noon."

"Little slacker. You just didn't want me to put you to work." He winked at her. "Now that I'm thinking about it, can you cook? Because my brother leaves a bit to be desired in that department."

Briony instinctively turned her head. Ken had known all along, but she didn't feel him until his scent reached her. Jack. She breathed his name in her mind. Soft. Intimate. Before she could think, before she could stop.

Jack. That soft sigh of his name was enough. Walking in, hearing the laughter, the easy banter between Ken and Briony had nearly stopped his heart. Jack. The sound of his name brushing along the walls of her mind, almost as if she cherished him, gave him peace, made him a part of that laughter, brought him into a secret world of true intimacy between a man and a woman--one he'd never experienced.

She looked up to meet his gaze, and her face lit up, a welcoming smile curving her mouth, lighting her eyes. "Hey you." It slipped out before she could stop it, and gave away instantly her growing feelings for him.

He walked across the room, arms filled with packages, straight to her, leaning close to brush a kiss along the corner of her mouth. "Has Ken been taking care of you?"

"Yes. He's been wonderful. What in the world is all this stuff? I thought you were getting a few clothes." She tried to cover the rush of excitement, of pleasure, at seeing him; the embarrassment she felt for her behavior the night before.

Jack frowned. "I should have sent Ken. The salesladies kept adding things to the list. I don't know what half of it is. You have an appointment with the doctor this afternoon, and I have vitamins you're supposed to be taking." He dumped the packages on the kitchen table, frowning as she rescued her coffee cup. "Ken. Didn't I tell you that she shouldn't have caffeine?" He held his hand out for the cup.

Briony bared her teeth at him. "Back away from my coffee if you want to live."

"I heard it wasn't good for you."

"You heard wrong." She put both hands around the cup and gave him her most fierce look. "Don't make me hurt you, Jack. If you touch this coffee cup, you're going to lose some fingers."

"Ouch." Ken grinned at his brother. "The woman isn't going to put up with your shit for a minute."

"Ken," Jack cautioned. "We're going to have a baby in the house--clean up your language." He couldn't stop looking her. She was dressed in his shirt and drawstring pants, barefoot, hair rumpled, and she looked so damned sexy he wanted to eat her up.

Ken groaned. "I'm so out of here." Have a little mercy, Christ, Jack.

Sorry, I didn't realize I was thinking without putting up our barrier.

I'm going to be getting hot and bothered with that kind of crap. I'm going to work. You can find me tiling the bathroom if you ever pry yourself away. Ken stalked off, glaring at his brother over his shoulder.

"Well, at least I know how to get some work out of you now," Jack called after him.

"Thinking what?" Briony asked. She took a sip of her coffee.

"That you looked so damned sexy I could eat you up."

Briony nearly spit the coffee all over the floor. "Good grief, Jack. I look terrible. You need help. Look at me, I don't even have a brush."

"You look beautiful." He opened the bags and began to pull things out. "Brush, toothbrush, toothpaste, and all the stuff you need to wash your face."

Her eyes widened with surprise. He'd obviously asked for help, and the salesladies had been more than happy to steer him to the most expensive products in the stores. He brought out beautiful soft sweaters and designer jeans as well as expensive, very sexy underwear. He'd even remembered shoes and socks, and a dress so elegant that she'd never have a single place to wear it.

Briony sank into a chair, staring in awe at the wardrobe he'd laid out. Each item had been picked with great care. He hadn't just grabbed things off a rack, he'd taken his time and made certain everything was soft and comfortable and the latest fashion. Tears welled up. She was so emotional lately. "Jack. I don't know what to say. This is amazing. Everything I need."

"Not really, but it's a start." He pulled a small box out of his pocket. "These aren't your mother's, but you have a habit of touching your earrings for reassurance. I thought they'd do until we get your mother's back." He slid the box over the table to her and turned to pace restlessly across the kitchen.

He'd rather face a firing squad than watch her face while she opened the box. He hadn't been certain if getting her the earrings would upset her, and already tears were glistening in her eyes. He was beginning to sweat. How did other men find it so easy to be around a woman they cared for?

She opened the box slowly and stared down at the earrings. "They're beautiful, Jack. Really beautiful." He hadn't gotten her diamonds like her mother's, but exquisite rubies, burning with fire. They resembled fireworks bursting in the sky. She swallowed the choking lump in her throat. "Jack. This is so incredible,

but how can I possible accept them?" She wanted to--the earrings were so beautiful, but more than that, they were from him.

A slow smile lit up his face, and it occurred to her that it was the very first time she'd seen his eyes really light up. "Call it a celebration of the baby. Take them. No one else around here is going to wear them--well, maybe Ken might--but they'd look better on you."

Briony removed them from the box and fastened them in her ears, holding back her hair for him to approve. "What do you think?"

"I think they were made for you." He leaned down again and brushed a kiss on the top of her head. "Were you sick this morning?"

"I'm sick every morning. And often during the day. It comes and goes. I think it's part of the experience." She touched one of the sweaters, rubbing her fingers over the soft material. "I know it's stupid--it's not like Whitney can be everywhere--but I'm afraid to go to the doctor. He wanted us to get together, isn't there a chance he planted a doctor here?"

"I considered that," Jack said. "I asked around to find the doctor who'd been around the longest."

She nodded. "Okay. Thanks, that sounds good."

Jack's eyebrow shot up. She wasn't guarding her thoughts that closely, and it might have sounded good to her, but it didn't feel good in her mind. She was still worried that Whitney might expect her to go to Jack and that he'd bribe the doctor.

Jack caught Briony's chin and tilted her face up to his. "First, let me explain this. I'll be going with you to these doctor visits, and Ken will be right outside the window with a rifle and scope. He doesn't miss. Second, Whitney would never think I'd take you in. He doesn't know me; he only thinks he does. And thirdly, if you don't get that little worried frown off your face, I'll be obliged to kiss it off and then we'll both be in trouble."

For a moment her heart seemed to stop beating. She could only stare up at him, lost in the intensity of his gaze. There was nothing at all easy about Jack, even when he was doing the sweetest things. There was too much dark possession, too much raw, driving need, and--God help her, something in her responded like an addict.