Predatory Game (GhostWalkers 6) - Page 25

He'd placed a listening device right outside the kitchen window. Calhoun had a jammer, but he was so much smarter at electronics than that enhanced bastard--than all of them. Had any of Whitney's elite soldiers gotten that close to Calhoun?

And she would be gone this evening, dancing the night away with her lover. Well, he'd leave her a little surprise in her bed. In her panties. All over her entire damned room. Screw Whitney and his orders. And as for the cripple, well, tonight was going to be his last night. He was going to have him beaten to death right in front of the little whore. Whitney and his enhanced soldiers could choke on that.

CHAPTER 8

All this agonizing over Saber was inspiring. Jess was beginning to believe songwriters needed to suffer to produce good material--because this song was good. Every single note hauntingly beautiful, just like Saber.

He had started out working to unravel the mystery of that small digital recorder Louise Charter had brought to him. The recorder had been sealed in a plastic bag and locked in the office safe when she found it, and she hadn't been the one to put it there. The admiral had nothing whatsoever to do with her office safe. According to Louise, he didn't know the combination. If it was a plant to incriminate the admiral, whoever had placed the recorder there hadn't known that only the secretary had access to the safe.

The recording was in bad shape. He could hear voices, but was unable to catch the words, even with his advanced equipment. In the end, he thought it best to turn the recorder over to the soundman of the team, Neil. The man could do almost anything when it came to sound. And once that was taken care of...

The need for Saber consumed him, so he poured his frustrations into composing and everything else just went to hell. For the first time in his adult life, he wanted to quit his job with the military, so that if Saber was in his home for any reason other than because she wanted to be, the secrets would no longer matter and they could be together.

"Jesse?" Her soft siren voice cut through his thoughts, a note of hesitation so endearing he was already smiling as he turned to open his office door. For a moment his heart seemed to stop beating.

Saber was dressed in a figure-hugging, royal blue, off-the-shoulder dress. The skirt flared from the hips down to a hem of ragged tails. She had touched her long thick lashes with mascara, colored her full lips a pearly pink. The wild riot of curls spilling around her face gleamed with highlights. She was so incredibly beautiful his stomach clenched and his heart did a crazy roll.

"Did you still want to go with me?"

"You're not going without me, not looking like that," he said, black gaze moving hot and hungry over her.

She performed a little pirouette for him. "What do you think?"

"I think you can break hearts in that dress." Not to mention raise a man's temperature a few hundred degrees. Jess wiped at the little beads of perspiration forming on his skin. To hell with the dancing. He had other, far better ideas in mind.

"You like it then? I bought it on a whim a couple of months ago. You know me, I never wear dresses." She looked pleased at his response.

"I'd better get cleaned up to at least be presentable if I'm going to be seen with you. You look absolutely beautiful, Saber."

A faint blush stole into her cheeks. "Did you get quite a bit of work done?"

He nodded as he followed her into the hall, unable to take his eyes from her slender form. Just the way she walked suggested music to him. She was beautiful, and while he dressed, all he did was fantasize over her. He took care with his clothes, wanting to impress her, wanting her to feel the way about him that he felt about her.

Saber waited while Jess changed into his dark Italian suit, the charcoal gray one. The one that always made Saber melt inside when he put it on. She loved the tangy, masculine scent of him, the way his hair was so neat except for that one persistent, very sexy lock of hair that always fell across the middle of his forehead.

In the van he sat for a minute, simply looking at her. His gaze was possessive, admiring, everything Saber could ever have wanted to see. It caused a rush of moist heat, the swirl of butterfly wings, and made her mouth go suddenly dry. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, and then swallowed hard when his hungry gaze followed the movement.

"Jesse," she protested breathlessly.

"Kiss me." His voice went husky with raw need. He needed her kiss, the feel of her lips, her mouth, his body burning with desire, craving the honeyed taste of her.

Even as her brain protested, her body was already leaning toward his, wanting the heat that flared between them, wanting just one more taste of the forbidden.

The moment his mouth claimed hers, the trembling started. His teeth teased at her full lower lip, insisting she open to him. Hesitantly she obeyed, liquid fire rushing through her veins, arousing something fierce and primitive in her that matched the savage in him.

His tongue claimed her mouth the way his body meant to claim hers, hard, thrusting, sweeping her up with him, a wild mating tango that went on forever. Her heart, soul, and body belonged to him in that moment, melting, merging, straining to be part of him.

Lack of adequate air tore them apart. Rather than let her go, Jess's hands framed her head, his lips wandering over every inch of her face and throat. Saber moaned softly, clinging to the hard muscles of his shoulders.

"Do you want to stay home, baby?" He whispered the enticement, a sorcerer bent on tempting her.

Her breath left her in a rush and she stared at him, shocked and pleased and closer to agreeing than she wanted to admit. "We don't dare, Jess."

She didn't dare. He, however, was altogether a different story. With Saber, he'd dare just about anything--give up anything--even his career if necessary. Very gently Jess put distance between them. It took a minute to control his breathing, to get his raging body under some semblance of control.

"Glory, Jesse, you have got to stop doing this." Saber fanned herself with her hand, blue eyes so dark they were violet.

"Personally, angel face, I'm becoming quite partial to 'doing this.'" He set the van in motion, a small, crooked smile softening the hard curve of his mouth.

An answering smile hovered on her lips. "Well, don't think it's going to be a habit. We're liable to set the neighborhood on fire, we're that combustible."

His eyebrow shot up. "I don't think you're being the least bit open-minded about this, Saber."

"It's a matter of survival," she informed him. Her long lashes concealed the expression in her eyes.

He flashed his predator's smile. "Exactly. Now you're getting the idea. It is a matter of survival." There was no laughter in his voice.

She frowned, bit back a response, deeming it more prudent to remain silent. She was definitely not getting the better of him. In fact, she had a sinking suspicion she was losing ground fast. She wanted him so bad. More than she'd ever wanted anything in her life, yet he would always be out of reach. Even if a miracle happened and he really fell in love with her, she'd never be able to stay.

"Amazing," he teased. "Saber Wynter without a word to say."

She stared out the window, refusing to be provoked.

Jess's laughter faded at her discomfort, and he reached a hand across the intervening space to brush her cheek with caressing fingertips. Saber jumped and turned her violet-blue gaze on him. Haunted eyes. It was Jess who swallowed hard and looked away.

The club was relatively small, suggesting intimacy. Most of the patrons knew each other and greeted Jess and Saber immediately. Saber stood at Jess's side, her hand in his as they moved through the crowd to their table. Jess ordered her usual 7UP and orange juice without a murmur, one of the many things she appreciated about him. Saber never touched alcoholic beverages and normally her dates acted almost offended by it, or treated her as if she were a child who needed coaxing. Jess simply took her preference in stride.

The band was good, playing a mixture of rock and roll and slow romantic tunes.

"Jess. How good to

see you." The voice came from behind them, startling her. Saber hadn't been aware of anyone approaching, and that was disconcerting. Normally, she was aware of everything. Her heart jumped and then began a quick hammer in her chest. She turned to see a couple right behind her, so close she could have touched them. Too close to have slipped her notice. She hadn't scented them, felt their energy or rhythm, and her radar hadn't gone off. Her heart sank. Jess had to be shielding them.

"Ken. Mari." Jess held out his hand to the man.

Ken was covered completely in scars. It looked as though someone had sliced him into little pieces. He seemed as tough as steel, and his eyes were ice cold and watchful. Mari looked small beside him, but the way she moved was a dead giveaway.

These were GhostWalkers, not just friends of Jess. He had called in his team. She should have known he'd realize someone was watching them. She should have anticipated that he'd call on his friends. She was slipping, and now she was virtually surrounded by the enemy.

Jess caught her hand and tugged until she was beside him, so close she could feel his warmth. "Saber, these are good friends of mine. Ken and Mari Norton. They're newlyweds, so expect them to suddenly gaze into each other's eyes and forget we're here. Ken, Mari, this is my Saber."

Tags: Christine Feehan GhostWalkers Paranormal
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