Murder Game (GhostWalkers 7)

"I'm perfectly focused." His hand did a small circular massage, pressing lightly so that her body fit more snugly against his.

She turned her face up and kissed his throat. "I love you very much, Kadan Montague."

She didn't move away from him or demand he remove his hand. She danced closer, melting into him. He slid his palms up her back and encircled her protectively. His eyes burned. His throat closed. Tansy. His wife. She was his wife. His other half. She was and always would be his home.

He turned her around on the dance floor, struggling to find some balance with the emotions pouring in. She said he felt too much and the ice protected him, shielded him. At first he hadn't wanted to know how much he felt for her, but now that emotion, that terrible love that clogged his throat and made his heart ache, was his world.

"I want children," he murmured in her ear. "I want to feel them growing inside you, and see them feeding at your breast."

"Just remember it might inhibit your penchant for sex on the kitchen table," she teased.

Kadan drifted around the dance floor with her, lost in their world, barely aware of the GhostWalkers, the general, and her parents in the room. No one mattered to him but her. "I'll just have to be more innovative."

She turned her face up to press kisses along his throat. "I love you so much, Kadan. And you have to tell me, say the words out loud. It's our wedding day. And every anniversary and the day each child is born."

Laughter rumbled in his chest. "You drive a hard bargain, lady."

The song ended and another began. They hadn't broken apart, neither wanting to let go of the other. Kadan felt Tansy stiffen and knew before he turned who would be standing behind him. He forced a polite smile as he looked down at Tansy's mother, careful not to look at her father.

"Tansy?" Don Meadows stood there, his hand out, waiting for his daughter to dance with him while Sharon smiled expectantly up at Kadan.

Kadan felt Tansy's reluctance, but she turned to her father and obediently placed her hand in his. Kadan took Sharon into his arms, but his eyes followed his wife around the floor. She smiled. She spoke to her father, but when Kadan touched her mind, she was silently weeping. No one could tell, certainly not Sharon, who chattered away about how happy she was to have him for a son-in-law. All he could think of was getting back to Tansy and holding her, comforting her. She suddenly looked over her father's shoulder and sent him a small smile and Kadan's heart clenched.

He had married the most courageous woman he could imagine. She would stand with him and stand for their children. It wouldn't matter what Whitney, or Violet, or anyone else threw at them, they would be make it as long as they were together.

He guided Sharon across the room, bent to drop a brief kiss on her cheek, and then took back his wife.

Pulling her into the protection of his arms, keeping their bodies close, he leaned down, his lips against her ear. "I love you, baby, more than anything in the world. I absolutely love you." And when she touched his mind, there was no doubt.

Keep reading for a sneak preview of

the next exciting book

by Christine Feehan

BURNING WILD

Available May 2009

from Jove Books!

Jake Bannaconni swore viciously as he swerved the sleek, purring Ferrari to miss the Buick pulling right out in front of him. Downshifting, he was around the car and gone, the Ferrari a silver streak on the treacherous mountain road. Ahead of him, on the switchbacks, he caught glimpses of the Porsche he was pursuing. The low sporty car was swerving all over the road, traveling insanely fast on the steep, narrow ribbon of highway. Thanks to his "other," Jake had amazing reflexes and vision, and that advantage allowed him to push his car to the limit in an attempt to catch his quarry, even on the narrow, twisting mountain road.

A quick glance in the rearview mirror revealed his face was a granite mask, hard lines etched deeply, his gold-green eyes twin chips of ice, glittering menacingly. It didn't matter that he could scare anyone with a look, he truly felt murderous in that moment. He didn't care about the two occupants of that car, both falling down drunk, pawing each other obscenely in front of everyone at the senator's party, but he damn well wasn't going to let them destroy his child.

Shaina Trent, society's darling, jet-setter, life of the party and precious do-anything-for-Daddy daughter of Josiah was carrying his son. How could he have been so damned careless? He had known exactly what she was when he had bedded her. He had known both his family and hers had wanted the alliance. Each family suspected that he was the very thing they'd been seeking all along--a shifter--and they wanted his bloodline to boost their fading abilities. And they wanted to regain control of him. He should have suspected something when Shaina had thrown herself at him--after all, she'd never looked at him before, always acting as if she were far above him.

He downshifted and put on a burst of speed as he caught another glimpse of the Porsche sliding sideways around a turn. His heart went to his throat. The driver was so drunk he stayed in the wrong lane. Jake doubted either realized he was in pursuit. Shaina leaned toward the driver to massage his neck flirtatiously.

Jake cursed himself for geting into such a predicament. Desperate to find a way to shackle him, the two families had made an alliance, and, like an idiot, he had fallen into their trap. A part of him even felt guilty and thought he deserved exactly what he got.

He had deliberately slept with Shaina as a way to get back at her father, yet Shaina had been using him just as he had been using her. He hadn't been stupid enough to believe her when she told him she was on birth control, but he had been fool enough to use the condoms she produced. What none of them had figured out yet was that he would gladly burn in hell before he would accommodate them all.

Planned pregnancy was the oldest snare in the book. It was too late now; he had to live with the consequences--and so would the rest of them. Both families--and Shaina--had seriously underestimated him. He had planned his revenge for years. He had everything in place. It wouldn't take much to ruin either family financially, and he wasn't above buying freedom for his child.

Jake slammed his open palm on the steering wheel in an agony of recrimination. He knew better, but he just couldn't resist thumbing his nose at Josiah. But they would never have his kid. It didn't matter whether the boy was a shifter or not. Jake would find a nurse, a decent one, to come in and raise him right. He sure couldn't love the boy, but eventually he'd find someone who could.

A muscle jerked along his jaw. He'd always been savage, clawing and fighting his way out of the cage they'd tried to keep him in. They wouldn't have a chance to cage his child. His son would never know that unnatural, deceitful life. A nurse wasn't a perfect solution, but it would be the best he could do for the kid.

He couldn't trust Shaina to keep the unborn child healthy, so here he was in California, chasing her down, the jet standing by to take her back to his ranch where his guards would keep her out of trouble and away from drugs and alcohol until the baby was born. He had a team of doctors at his disposal, the best his research could find in Texas, and he was going to make certain the kid had the best possible start.

Jake swore viciously again. Shaina could drive off a cliff for all he cared, but he made it clear that he owned her father's company, had bought up the stock, and he would ruin them all if they dared cross him. The child was his, bought and paid for. Shaina was not going to endanger it. He had turned the tables neatly, ruthlessly, finding a bitter pl

easure in all their shocked faces.

Shaina, damn her, had no right to drink herself silly and poison the unborn baby. She had no right to go off with a drunken fool when she was so close to delivery. She had thought herself safe, a thousand miles away from his home state, never dreaming he would be concerned enough about the baby to track her down.

With each passing mile, he shortened the distance between the Ferrari and Porsche, closing the gap steadily, relentlessly. He could see the convertible now, weaving all over the highway, crossing the center line, changing lanes, tires squealing in protest around every sharp curve. He was right above them looking down and he saw Shaina move her hand to caress the driver's lap. The Porsche swerved again right into the other lane.

Suddenly his heart jumped again, and an icy shiver feathered down his spine. He caught a glimpse of a little Volkswagen Bug puttering along, two turns ahead, coming right into the path of destruction. Jake actually called out a warning, totally helpless to stop the inevitable.

The collision rocked the ground, shattering the peace of the night, a cacophony of terrible noises he would never forget. Grinding metal, the scream of brakes, the force of the vehicles coming together, folding like accordions. The sight and sounds sent chills down his spine. Sparks flew, the convertible tumbled over and over, spilling gas everywhere. The Volkswagen, a compacted scrap of twisted metal, slammed into the mountain, flames licking its length and up along the dried grass.

The smell of gas and flames and blood hit him hard. Jake hesitated long enough to report the accident from his cell phone. Leaping from the Ferrari, he sprinted toward the closest car, the crushed Volkswagen. The road was strewn with shattered glass and metal fragments. Shaina and her new boyfriend lay motionless on the ground in the distance, blood running from them in streams. Neither had been wearing a seat belt, and both had been thrown several feet from the car. He doubted if anyone could have lived through the force of that head-on collision, but something propelled him forward in spite of the flames moving quickly along the road.