Viper Game (GhostWalkers 11) - Page 74

She had nowhere to go. No skills. No paperwork. She was nothing. She wouldn't allow Wyatt Fontenot to tie himself to nothing - to trouble that would eventually get him or someone else killed. She loved him too much for that. She loved her daughters and Nonny too much for that.

A hand slapped hard around her wrist, tightening like a vise, yanking her back to the edge of the bed. "Just where the fuck do you think you're goin'?"

She closed her eyes at the pure rage in his voice. She did that to him a lot. There was no way to explain this to him, no way that wouldn't put him in a position of having to try to talk her out of it.

She refused to turn around and look into his eyes. She couldn't. "Let go, Wyatt. I don't want to have to fight you, but I will. Just let go."

"Fight me?" A hint of amusement slid through the rage. "You think you're capable of winnin' a physical fight with me, babe?"

He yanked her hard, and she sprawled across the bed. Sprawled on top of him. Her gaze jumped to his face, to the eyes she knew better than to look into. There was no amusement there whatsoever. He was furious.

"Wyatt, I'm leaving. I can't do this. There's nothing more to say." She fought to keep her voice low. Controlled. Firm.

She still couldn't breathe, her lungs burning for air. Her chest felt like it might explode. Fear skittered down her spine and the terrible knots in her belly rose to her chest to add to the weight threatening to crush her.

"You're not leavin' me, Pepper."

She actually saw the glitter of the cat as the dominant male rose in him. The need to meet every challenge. She wasn't trying to challenge him, she was trying to save him. She couldn't stand this. Couldn't do this. She was such a coward to try to run in the middle of the night from him, but she knew this would happen. Knew he would fight her, and she couldn't bear that either.

It hurt. It hurt to breathe, to think. She tried getting her wrist back, dropping the bag and using her other hand to try to pry his fingers loose.

"Wyatt, stop it. Let go of me."

"No."

Just like that. No. That was Wyatt.

"Mon Dieu, Wyatt, just let go. I have to leave. We both know it. Stop acting like you don't. It just makes it worse." It burst out of her. Unexpected. Frightening in that she couldn't contain it.

He went still. His eyes changed. His entire demeanor. The anger slipped, but his grip on her wrist didn't. "You're stayin' right here, Pepper, and we're goin' to figure out just what's wrong and fix it."

Something inside her, the terrible, frightening, explosive knot in her chest expanded and contracted, radiating such pain she thought her heart might have actually burst. There was no containment. No way to stop the volcano from erupting. She felt it rising like a tide, a mad insanity she couldn't escape.

"Wyatt. Mon Dieu!" She scraped one hand through her hair. "How can you not see I have to do this for you. To protect you. You won't protect yourself. What's wrong with you that you don't see someone has to protect both you and the girls from me? From what I am? You're such a good man. Clean and decent. You have a family who loves you. You came from that, Wyatt. I don't even have a last name. I can't unmake what I am. No matter what I do, I'll always be this."

She swept her hand down her body, tears spilling, lungs burning, throat raw. "What I do is so vile, so disgusting, entrapping men with sex and then killing them. Watching them adore me as the life goes out of them. I won't have that for you. Or the girls. I have to leave. I have to."

She couldn't stand it one more second; she began to fight, swinging at him, trying to break his unbreakable grip. He rolled fast, forcing her onto her back, and he was over her in an instant, his thigh coming down over the top of hers, pinning her while his hands caught both her wrists, stretching her arms above her head and pinning them to the mattress. She thrashed, trying to dislodge him, desperation setting in.

"Wyatt. Please. You aren't thinking this through."

"Stop fighting." His voice went soft. Smoky. Drawling. A sexy Cajun drawl.

She felt the heat of his body and tried to buck him off of her. She was strong, but not in comparison to him. And she would never, ever hurt him. Never use venom to escape. He seemed immune to the biochemical spilling from her body, so she couldn't even use that weapon against him.

"Baby, focus here. Look at me." He waited until her gaze reluctantly met his. "Even if you got loose, which you won't, did you think I wouldn' recognize the signs of my woman sayin' good-bye when we have sex? A man like me knows his woman. I know how you breathe when you come for me, how your eyes change, that dazed, sweet look of confusion and bliss. I gave the boys the heads-up and told them to stop you if you managed to slip away from me."

Wyatt lifted his head, and something in his eyes made her shiver. "That's not goin' to happen. I'm not givin' you up, so lie still and let's talk this out."

She shook her head, the crushing weight in her chest settling over her heart. "You aren't thinking straight, Wyatt. You're a rescuer. You think I need to be rescued. When there's no let up, you'll see I'm right. This won't work. Do you really think I can get pregnant every single time you leave? That's the solution? Years will go by and something terrible will happen because this isn't going to stop."

She was pleading with him. She'd worked up the courage to leave, but she was leaving behind every single thing that was good. Everything that meant anything to her. She knew it was a form of suicide; once she was away from him, from the children and Nonny, she'd be dead inside. But this was Wyatt and her children and she was - unclean.

"First, babe, we're workin' on the problem, and there are birth control pills that simulate pregnancy. If that works, it's an easy solution. If not, we'll come up with an answer. And second, more importantly, you did what you needed to do to save Malichai. To save me. To save Nonny. Braden's soldiers weren't particularly fast, but they didn't have many vulnerable spots on them. They weren't smart, but they kept comin'. You did what you had to do, Pepper."

"You didn't see their faces, Wyatt. You didn't see what I did to them. Just

skin-to-skin contact. Mouth to mouth." She said it deliberately to rile him.

Wyatt didn't even wince when she told him. He didn't even blink, nor did his eyes move from hers. "That was combat, baby. You weren't doin' anythin' wrong. I'm not upset with you. I know that hurt to look at them, it should hurt. When it doesn', that's when we know we're in trouble."

Wyatt watched her face. Her eyes. She was breaking his heart. She thought so little of herself. She didn't see her own courage. She had known when she'd taken that soldier out what it was going to cost her and she'd done it anyway. For him. The girls. Nonny. Malichai. Hell, for the entire team.

"I know what you had to do, babe, but you did it for us. To save us. That's what people who love one another do. They save each other by any means available to them. You weren' goin' to bring that soldier down with a bullet or a knife, not and keep him from sprayin' the operatin' room with bullets. I didn' have an assistant other than Nonny and I was havin' a hell of a time keepin' Malichai alive. Without you, all of us would have been dead."

She shook her head, looking so sad his heart stuttered in his chest. He held her there, the strong column of his thigh pinning her down while he blanketed her body with his own. He was careful not to crush her, but he took no chances. She was well trained and skilled in hand-to-hand combat. She just didn't want to hurt him.

"Talk to me, sugar." He bent his head and pressed a kiss to her throat. "You have to talk this out with me. We have an agreement and I'm holdin' you to it."

She ran her fingers through his hair. Gently. Lovingly. He felt love for her, rising like a tide deep inside of him. She had no clue, and he only had words and his body to show her what she meant to him. He didn't blame her that she didn't trust that he knew for certain what he wanted. She'd had so little time with him.

He brushed his mouth down her throat to her sternum, pressed more kisses there. One hand slid up to her blouse with those little buttons he liked so much. Her hand caught at his as he slid them open.

"Wyatt, think about this. Think with your brain. You're so smart. You know how this is going to end."

Tags: Christine Feehan GhostWalkers Paranormal
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