Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers, #9)(27)
Warmth flooded his mind. Reassurance. They don’t want me dead. Whitney wants our baby. They might try to take me now, but I’m armed and I’ve got you—my secret weapon.
The confidence in her voice shook him to the core. She was sitting calmly out in the open, waiting for the enemy to make a move, relying on him to keep her and their child safe. Rose might appear small and fragile, but she was first and foremost a soldier, trained almost from birth. Whitney and his team of killers might have done better to remember that. Whitney didn’t have much respect for the women he’d designed and trained over the years, focusing on their weaknesses and flaws rather than seeing them as human and three-dimensional. It was Whitney’s flaw, that megalomaniac ego that pushed reality into the background.
Kane’s fingers tightened around the rifle. He was actually guilty of the same thing. He persisted in seeing Rose as someone in need of protection. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to underestimate you, Rose. I have great respect for your abilities. He felt it needed to be said. He was ashamed of his need to protect her, but it wasn’t going away. If anything, the need was growing stronger.
Don’t apologize, Kane. You’ve treated me with more respect and better than any other man in my life. Believe me, I appreciate you.
Kane kept his gaze on the desert. Four men running this way. They’re spread out, standard pattern. All armed, but only two are carrying extra gear.
Do you think those two are going to hang around?
He caught the apprehension in her voice. You know they will. They’re going to wait it out and report to Whitney when you have the baby. I can take them out, and we can get the hell out of here if you’re up to it.
Her hesitation alarmed him. I don’t think it’s a good idea right now, Kane. I’m getting the contractions again. They aren’t as regular as the ones the other day, but they’re harder and lasting longer.
She was definitely frightened. The word contractions scared the holy hell out of him. He took a breath and fit the rifle to his shoulder, tracking each of the men through his scope. He had taken the rifle from Jimenez’s private arsenal, recognizing his favorite sniper rifle. It felt like an old friend. He’d cleaned it, taken it apart and put it back together, test-fired it several times, and repeated the entire operation until the rifle felt like his own.
Once he’d seen the Humvee and the CROWS system, he knew he had to tell her the truth. No way could Jimenez have acquired that system without serious backing—and he feared he knew exactly who that man had been.
Rose, Jimenez left a hell of an arsenal behind. All military issue, all the very latest technology, which meant he was in bed with Whitney.
That doesn’t make sense. For all his failings, Whitney is a patriot. He wouldn’t put weapons into the hands of a rebel.
Kane could see the enemy now, see their grim, dark-striped faces clearly. Dressed in desert camouflage clothing, they ran at a steady pace, covering the mile quickly.
They’re spreading out. Look unaware and sweet and innocent.
It’s a little hard to look innocent when I’m as big as a house.
He suppressed his unexpected laughter. She wasn’t as big as a house, not by a long shot. Hell, Rose, from the back I couldn’t even tell you were pregnant. Only your tummy is round. He congratulated himself for being wise not to use the beach ball reference. You might not think you’re innocent, sweetheart, but pregnant or not, you’re very innocent.
What does that mean?
It means, he said, once you have that baby, I’ve got a whole hell of a lot to teach you. Before she could reply and tell him to go to hell, that she didn’t plan on sticking around, he gave another report. Flanking you now. One coming around on your left side.
I can’t see him yet.
The knots in his gut unraveled a bit at the calm in her voice. He admired her, plain and simple. He was lying prone, rifle in hand, watching the enemy. She was a sitting duck. He watched each man reach a position where he was able to see the one side of the house.
Checking you out now, sweetheart. They’ve gone to ground. Keep reading the book. What else does it say?
Oh dear. This isn’t good. You know the part where women can have sex as long as there aren’t any complications? Not so much in the last month. Sex can bring on labor. My dreams are shattered.
He loved the laughter in her voice. Her teasing tone told him she was lying her ass off, but he liked that she was comfortable enough to tease him about sex. He was tied to her for life and would never find a woman with quite the same appeal, but she had no ties to him other than the baby—certainly not sex. He wiped his chin on his sleeve and kept his eye to the scope.
Your dreams? he echoed. I’m suffering here, woman. He shifted just enough to ease his body into a more comfortable position in the sand. Teasing back and forth about sex was dangerous when they had enemies coming at them, but he understood it was simply another form of comic banter soldiers often used to relieve the tension. Now you go and tell me something like that. He had no problems with camaraderie. He could do camaraderie standing on his head—but not when she was putting images of his body locked with hers in his head.
Sorry, I couldn’t resist. The book actually does say that.
She hesitated, and his body reacted, tightening in anticipation. She seemed suddenly uncertain about sharing some piece of information. For a woman forthcoming about things, that didn’t bode well. Tell me.