Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)(112)

Tansy kept her gaze on his face. He sounded so tough. So hard. His face could have been carved of stone, his body sculptured from steel, so very still. When he ceased all movement, he became part of his background, every part of him completely motionless—waiting. For her. He looked as if whatever she said didn’t matter, as if she couldn’t shatter him into a million pieces, but his mind was in hers and she knew better. She knew air might be flowing through his physical chest, but deeper inside, where ordinarily he was safe from anyone seeing him, he was holding his breath—waiting. For her.

“I love you, Kadan. I want to be with you always. And I don’t bully so easily. I’m not afraid of you, and no one pushes me anywhere I don’t want to go. I’m committing myself to you—to us. So yes, I’ll marry you when this is done. I have no idea what kind of future we’ll have, but even if I only get a small part of you, I’ll have the best part.”

Kadan couldn’t move even if he’d wanted to. For a moment he had the strange sensation of falling on silken sheets and into her warm, soft body, of sharing her skin and sliding into the sheer intimacy of her mind. Everything in him settled.

“Okay.” It was the briefest of words.

He had no idea what else to say. He could show her, but he couldn’t say it. She didn’t seem to mind. She flashed a sassy grin at him, just as if she caught glimpses of how much she meant to him; he hoped so—she deserved to know.

“At the end of the day, when we sit in our rocking chairs, Tansy, and watch our grandchildren play, I can promise you, being with me will have been worth it.” Because he was going to devote himself to making and keeping her happy, and in a lot of ways he was very single-minded.

“Are we going to have grandchildren?”

“I want everything. I never thought I would have a home or a family, and with you I have both, but you made me want it all. Lots of grandchildren.”

She took another drink of tea and regarded him steadily over the cup. “And when you’re off doing your thing with the boys, am I going to be at home alone with the children?”

He wasn’t going to lie. “This is who I am. I can provide a safe home with others like us, with GhostWalkers. We all help one another. You won’t be alone, but I’ll be leaving for short periods of time frequently and we have to live in a safe environment. We have no choice.”

“I don’t worry about being alone. I’m good at it. When you’re gone, I can do my photography work up in the mountains.” She flashed him a small, seductive smile. “You can come looking for me.”

“You can stay where I put you,” he corrected. “During the times I’m gone, you won’t be able to go to your parents, where I can’t protect you and our children from Whitney or anyone else who might want you for their own reasons.”

“That makes sense when we have children, but certainly before, I can still work.”

His jaw tightened. “You can be in a safe environment.”

“And my photography?” Her voice dared him to tell her she couldn’t do something she loved.

“When I come back, we’ll both go. I’m good at carrying equipment. Trained for years in it. I’ll have dinner ready when you get back to camp every night.”

Her eyes lit up, and he knew he wanted to see that look on her face for the rest of his life.

“Good then.” She surprised and pleased him, capitulating without further argument, as if she knew that when it came to her safety, he couldn’t compromise. “I’m not into big weddings, but I’m a fairly traditional girl, and torturing you with a formal dress and tux sounds like a good idea, just so we start off right.”

He blinked. A muscle ticked in his jaw and there was no way to stop it.

Her smile widened.

“You aren’t nice.”

“Just making sure you know what you’re in for.” She tilted her chin a little with a mixture of challenge and defiance. “Did you tell Tucker and Ian the puppet master threatened my parents again?”

“Of course I did. We’ve stepped up security. Three more of my team members are arriving today to help Tucker and Ian, although the location is secure and I doubt they’ll really need it. I wanted you to feel comfortable with their security. Did you want to call your mother today?”

She looked away from him, carefully setting the tea mug on the end table and plucking at imaginary threads on her jeans. “I think I’ll wait another day or so.”

“She’ll be worried about you,” he persisted. “You’ve always called her. Your mother is as much a victim here as you are, Tansy.” He kept his voice low and gentle, a stroking caress rather than judgment.

“I know she is. I just don’t know what I’m going to say when she wants me to talk to my father. I’m not ready for that, and I don’t want to say or do anything that would hurt her.”

He wanted to argue with her. The longer she waited, the harder it might be for her, and if she didn’t call, her mother would become more upset and probably ask more questions, but her hurt was too raw, too painful, and he let it go. He’d force the issue another time for her sake, but not now, not when she was so pale and her eyes looked like two bruises. He crossed the room and took the seat at the opposite end of the couch, reaching for her bare foot and pulling it into his lap so he could begin a gentle massage.