Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)(91)

Immediately his eyes locked with hers. Kadan’s eyes blazing with sheer force. Her breath hitched in her lungs and she choked, but didn’t look away. The water poured down on her. She could feel the heat and sting of it on her raw skin. Vapor curled around them, and it was real, from the water temperature and not in her mind. He stood there, a warrior of old, fully clothed and soaking wet, his blue eyes so dark they were midnight blue, his mouth set in grim lines, his fingers still digging into her shoulders, connecting her with reality.

“Are you back with me, baby?”

His voice. She wanted to melt into a little puddle at his feet the moment she heard that soft, velvet voice caress her, stroke her body, slip inside her to wrap around every cold spot and warm her. She didn’t dare speak. If she continued crying, she’d never stop, and speaking would bring another flood of tears. She knew what had happened. She couldn’t hide it from him. She’d been standing on the brink of madness and he’d pulled her back from the edge.

She nearly crumbled, humiliated and ashamed, wanting to tear her gaze from his, but he refused to release her, stepping forward to close the gap between them, still looking down at her, still commanding her gaze. One hand slid up her shoulder to the nape of her neck, sliding around her throat to tip up her chin with his thumb.

“Say it, Tansy. Say you’re with me.”

She swallowed, knowing he felt the movement in the palm of his hand. “I’m with you.”

“You’re mine. You belong here, with me. Say it.”

She touched her tongue to her lips. They stood there, water pouring around them, her clothes torn and strewn on the floor, her skin practically scrubbed off, her mind damaged almost beyond repair, and he wanted . . .

His hand closed tighter around her throat. He gave her a small shake. “Say it.”

“I belong here, with you.” She wanted to belong with him, but he was so strong and she was so falling apart. Her mind was shattered, the pieces scattered everywhere. She had the mad desire to look around for them, but his gaze continued to command hers, refusing to allow her look away from him.

“Who do you belong to, Tansy? I want you to say that you’re mine. Say it out loud so that you know it. So that you believe it. I’m not letting you go. I refuse absolutely to give you up. Not to someone else, not to your parents and certainly not to a bunch of murderers. Who do you belong to?”

She was lost in his strength. Lost in his eyes. “You. I belong to you.” She barely whispered the words, her throat clogging.

He still held her gaze, refusing to release her. “And who do I belong to?”

She blinked. Warmth poured into her. She was aware of him filling her mind, pushing out every ugly thing that had been there. He was there, slamming the door closed on the voices, building a brick wall across it. Kadan. Of course. She felt a ghost of a smile, of hope. “Me. You’re mine and you belong to me.”

He crushed her to him, so tight it drove the breath from her, nearly cracking her ribs, but she only wrapped her arms around him and held on. He buried his face in the soft hollow of her shoulder, and it was impossible to tell if the water from the shower soaked into her skin or if his face was wet with tears. He didn’t move for a long time. When he did, his hands were gentle.

“Let’s get you out of here.” He reached up and turned off the water, then pulled a towel around her. “The others should be checking in soon, and I want to get a hot cup of tea into you.”

She stayed still, allowing him to rub the water very gently from her skin. He seemed to need it even more than she did, his hands sliding over her, the roughened calluses feeling good in spite of the abrasions on her arms. Her hand throbbed, and when she looked down, she saw that it was bruised and swollen, but she didn’t remember what had happened and was afraid to ask.

“I have to tell you the details or I could leave something important out.”

The towel halted movement abruptly, just below her breasts. He looked at her, his face more grim than ever. “Fuck that, Tansy. This is ended right here.”

His crude and immediate reaction made her want to smile all the more. Inside her, where he couldn’t see, light burst through her, driving out more of the ugliness. He was like a breath of fresh air sweeping through her.

She caught his face in her hands and kissed his strong jaw, nibbled her way from his scar to the corner of his mouth and teased at his sensual lower lip, tugging with her teeth. “Why didn’t you want me this morning?” She couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice. “Why didn’t you make love to me? Was it this? The things in my head? The damage? Or was it the fact that my father’s involved with Whitney?”

Kadan’s head came up and his eyes blazed down at her, hot and hungry, filled with burning lust and something else that made her go soft inside. “I was being nice, giving you time.”

She frowned at him. “Time for what? One moment you were lying next to me and I could hear your breathing change and feel you hard against me, and then you just rolled over like you couldn’t stand being next to me.”

“Couldn’t stand being next to you?” He echoed her, his gaze narrowing.

His hand snaked out and caught the nape of her neck, dragging her against him, mashing her breasts against his wet chest. He fastened his mouth to hers, a brutal, almost angry kiss, devouring her, staking claim to her mouth while his hand slid possessively down the long curve of her back to her hip. He ground his body hard against hers. “Don’t f*cking ever tell me I don’t want you,” he snapped, eyes blazing.