Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)(94)

Kadan tipped his chair back, not saying anything, regarding her through brooding, half-closed eyes. He looked frightening, his face a hard mask, his mouth tight. Her heart began to beat very fast. Kadan would never hurt her, certainly not for taking a stand, not when she was right—not ever. She forced herself to remain silent, not to appease him, although she wanted to. She lowered her eyes and sipped at the tea, holding the mug tight against her throbbing palm, hiding the knife impression from him.

“Your choice was to stop. I dragged you back into it.”

She shook her head. “You walked away. You were going to tell them you didn’t find me, or that I’d lost my abilities. I chose to come with you.”

His jaw tightened. A muscle jerked and his eyes were twin chips of blue ice. “You have no idea the lengths I’d be willing to go to keep you safe.”

There was no give in him and he didn’t sound loving. He sounded cold and hard and terrifying. She caught a glimpse of that eight-year-old boy who found a gun in a river of his family’s blood and chose to pick it up and seek his own brand of justice. He was ruthless and merciless, and he would be even more so protecting her.

“I’m counting on you to keep me safe while I do this, Kadan. But we have to stop them. Not for your friends, but because they’re evil and we can’t leave them running around loose on innocent people. You know it as well as I do. You have no intention of stopping.”

“That’s different.”

She nearly snorted tea out her nose. “Why? Because you’re the heap big man?”

He leaned forward then, the chair legs coming back to the floor with a crash as he bent over the table, catching her chin in his palm. “No. Because you’re my woman and I’ll be damned if anything happens to you. I didn’t feel a whole hell of a lot before I met you, and now that I do, I don’t like where it can take me if something bad happens. You don’t want to hear this, Tansy, but I’m not all that far removed from the men you’re hunting.”

“That’s not true, Kadan.”

“Lie to yourself then, but don’t ever be stupid enough to think that I wouldn’t kill for you, or die for you. You want to do this, then you do it my way. I mean it, Tansy, you do it my way. That’s all I’m going to give up.”

“That’s not giving up a thing.”

“The hell it isn’t. I don’t want you anywhere near this mess. I can slap your ass in a safe house with ten guards on you around the clock and there’s not a thing you can do about it, so don’t tell me I’m not compromising here.”

“You’re being a bastard.”

He put both hands on the table and leaned in close again, his voice pitched low, his eyes turning glacier blue. “I am a bastard. It’s time you figured that out.”

She sat back in her chair, glaring at him over her tea. After a moment of silence she heaved a sigh. “Fine. Tell me how we’re doing this.”

“You will give me your word of honor that you won’t touch anything to do with the murders or the killers or the victims, nothing at all, without me present, and only with gloves. No handling anything without protection.”

“I may not be able to track the puppet master,” she protested.

“Then it won’t happen. Gloves and me, or no handling. Your word.”

His implacable tone set her teeth on edge. “Kadan, try to be reasonable. Do you realize how much information I got this time? We haven’t even had a chance to go over it.”

He didn’t reply. He simply stared at her, unyieldingly.

“We can find a way to make it safer.”

“Take it or leave it.”

She growled at him. “You’re so stubborn. Fine, then. You have my word. I could shake you sometimes.”

“Well I could paddle you sometimes. So I guess we’re even.” There was no give in his voice, no triumph, just stating a fact in that wicked, black velvet, suggestive tone.

She had the feeling he was really contemplating turning her over his knee, and something perverse in her had her tingling with unexpected arousal. How did he do that, turn everything into sex with just a tone? She was in for one wild ride with him, but she couldn’t let him just take her over. She had to learn to hold her own.

Tansy leaned her chin into her hand. “You’ve got that look in your eyes.”

“What look?”

The one that took her breath away and made her panties damp. And they were arguing over something important.

“The argument is over. We both compromised,” he pointed out, reading her mind. His lips curved into a sensual smile. “I’m fortunate that I make your panties damp. Lift up your shirt for me.”

She regarded him steadily, wondering if he was challenging her or testing her. She didn’t care which it was, she’d told him the truth. If he needed access to her body, she was more than willing to give it to him. She pulled the hem of her shirt up over her breasts and held the material out of the way. His eyes darkened from ice blue to midnight. His fingers trailed over the creamy slopes, brushed over her nipples, and followed the red marks down her body.

“Did you put something on this?” He stroked a caress over one angry streak on her belly.

She nodded. “It looks worse than it is. My skin marks easily.”