Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers, #9)(126)
“You married?” Drake’s voice was very casual.
Her heart jumped. “No.”
“I didn’t think so. No man in his right mind would let someone like you take strangers out alone into the swamp.”
She touched the knife at her belt. “I can take care of myself.” Why had he asked? She’d seen the way his gaze drifted over her, taking in everything. He couldn’t have failed to note her lack of a wedding ring. Still, maybe some women didn’t wear their ring. She let her breath out. Maybe under that expressionless face he was a little more interested in her than he let on. “Are you?” She couldn’t imagine it. She couldn’t imagine any woman holding his interest for long.
Silence stretched between them until she stopped again and looked at him. He gave her a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I doubt I could find a woman who would put up with me.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Are you that difficult?”
“I imagine I might be, yes,” he admitted. His voice dropped an octave—became soft, seductive, an intimacy she was totally unfamiliar with. “You’ll be living with me for the next week. You’ll have to tell me.”
Her mouth went dry. Her heart jumped and damp heat collected. His gaze locked with hers and she immediately experienced the sensation of falling into him. It was bizarre, but she couldn’t look away, as if he’d managed to take her captive in some primitive manner. His stare was both charismatic and alarming. Her heart began drumming a very real warning. Everything feminine in her responded to him, yet at the same time urged her to run.
She was lost in his gaze, so she witnessed the abrupt change. The green with golden flecks suddenly went antique gold. The round pupils dilated three times wider. He moved, or did he? She didn’t think she’d blinked, but his body was suddenly close to her, almost protective, shielding her from something he’d seen without so much as turning his head. Icy fingers crept down her spine. Her warning radar exploded, and this time the threat wasn’t emanating from the man in front of her. Maybe it never had been and his predatory magnetism had confused her. Whatever the reasons, she hadn’t recognized her alarms for what they were.
“A man is back in the shadows just at the entrance to the trees. He’s watching you.” His voice was pitched very low, nearly inaudible. Had she not had such good hearing, she would have missed the whisper. “Do you know him? Look over my left shoulder.” He took another step closer, bending his head toward hers as if he might kiss her.
Her breath caught in her throat. Everything in her stilled. She placed the palm of her hand on his chest, right over his soundly beating heart, but whether to push him away or to steady herself as she raised her head, she wasn’t certain.
She flicked a quick glance to the tree line and her throat nearly closed. Red eyes glowed back at her. Something was there all right—someone. She couldn’t tell who it was, only that human eyes didn’t reflect back light in that manner.
“We don’ need to cut through the grove to get to the dock. This road curves around and then goes back toward the canals. It’s a little longer but ...”
“I think a stroll through the grove is just the thing,” Drake interrupted.
She shook her head. “I don’ know if you’ve been readin’ about the ghost cats people think they’ve been spottin’ in the swamps, but sometimes those things are more real than we want them to be. I’d just feel safer if we stayed in town.”
“Look at me.” He kept his voice low, and she swore it was almost a purr it was so soft and alluring, but it was definitely an order.
Beneath her skin, she felt an itch. If she’d been a cat she would have sworn he’d ruffled her fur the wrong way, but before she could stop herself, her gaze jumped to his. Instantly she was caught by that commanding, focused stare. His eyes were gorgeous, frightening and sexy all at once.
“You’re safe with me.”
His tone was just too intimate, too certain—so certain that when she stared into his eyes, in spite of her brain telling her to be logical, she believed him. And how dumb was that when she knew there was a leopard stalking and killing people? Drake Donovan might be a powerful man in his world, and clearly everything about him shouted he could handle himself—but not with a killing machine like a shifter. Cunning and intelligent, the shifter used both man and beast to bring down prey.
She swallowed hard, unable to escape those piercing eyes. He’d locked in on her and there was no fleeing. It occurred to her suddenly that he was telling her something altogether different than she’d imagined. She frowned, but he was already turning her very gently but firmly back in the direction of the grove. Reluctantly, she took a few steps, confused by Drake, confused by her reaction to him.
She scowled. Drake Donovan threw her off balance. She glanced deeper into the shadows. Nothing moved. No eyes stared back. Whoever had been there had changed position. Still, she was uneasy and that wasn’t a good sign. She dropped her hand very casually to the knife at her waist, unsnapping the safety flap with one thumb.
“We’re fine,” Drake said softly. “A man at ten o’clock and two more trailing after us.”
Her scowl deepened. She was the guide. It was up to her to protect him in the swamp. This was her home turf and she should have spotted the others long before Drake became aware of them. He was messing up her warning system. She had the uncomfortable feeling he was setting off the alarms and she couldn’t see beyond him. So why would she feel safe with him?