Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers, #9)(28)

She sighed. I think the baby dropped.

His heart thudded. He blinked, and the man he’d been watching was gone that quick out of his line of sight. Kane marked where their enemy had gone to ground, but that didn’t mean the bastard wasn’t on the move. The baby dropped? he repeated, feeling like he’d been hit over the head with something really hard. What the hell does that mean?

When I took my shower this evening, the pressure was off my ribs. I think the baby moved down into the birthing position.

I haven’t read the book, Rose. He searched every inch of the sandbank where the enemy had disappeared, trying not to panic—not because he’d lost sight of the enemy, but because he had a very bad feeling about babies dropping and what that meant.

She hesitated again, and that small hesitation continued to freak him out. He studied the sandbank. Had blades of saw grass moved? There was no wind. Not even a breeze. The night air had cooled, but it was still warm. Stars were everywhere, glittering like diamonds scattered across the sky. It was a beautiful night. He always marveled how something so ugly as murder could take place in such peaceful settings. The night was made for a man and woman to sit quietly and enjoy the constellations and each other.

“I see you,” he whispered under his breath. The saw grass bent toward the house, and he caught a glimpse of the outline of the enemy’s shoulder. On your left, Rose. He’s moving toward you. Don’t look. If he gets too close, he’s a dead man.

He checked the other three before putting the rifle back on the one closest to Rose. The others were holding position.

Don’t shoot him. Rose’s voice was tight, even shook a little. They need proof. Whitney wants documentation of everything. They’re probably trying to get a clear picture of me. He has to maneuver into position.

That little wobble in her voice had him stroking the trigger. Ice flowed in his veins normally when he was waiting for a kill shot, but tonight, with Rose sitting out in the open surrounded by the enemy, his mind was a little difficult to discipline.

This is f*cking bullshit, Rose. I’m going to kill them all and we’ll get the hell out of here. We have the Humvee.

Kane. The soft note in her voice turned his heart over. I love that you want to protect me, but I’m telling you, I can’t travel. I can’t do it. If I could, I’d say let’s go for it, but it’s too soon for the baby to be born, and I think my body is so worn down it just can’t hold her anymore.

Kane wiped the sweat from his face with one hand, watching the enemy closest to Rose. The man was still easing himself forward. Now he was within fifty feet of her.

Kane knew Whitney had “paired” him; hell, he’d even agreed to it, though he hadn’t known exactly what it meant at the time. As far as he understood it, it had something to do with pheromones. Didn’t that just mean he would forever remain sexually attracted to her? If so, if that was all, what the hell was wrong with him that every cell in his body demanded he get Rose out of the situation?

Now that he’d found her again, his child growing inside her, now that he’d watched her sleep and listened to her soft laughter, admired her courage and respected her fighting capabilities, he feared pairing was far more than sexual. Whether Whitney’s program had done that or whether he was just falling like a ton of bricks for the woman, he didn’t know, but it was messing him up having her in danger.

What’s he doing?

She sounded nervous, yet she tried to cover it. His heart twisted. He wanted to gather her into his arms and hold her. I hate to admit it, but you were right. And just for the record, that might be the only time I ever say those words to you, so treasure them. He figured if he teased her a little to lighten the tension, it would help both of them. He’s recording you sitting there looking all content and smug outside your hideaway. Whitney will love that.

I try to please.

His stomach settled. Her tone was stronger. Something was wrong, though, and he wanted these men gone. You all right?

She hesitated, and the knots were back just like that.

Rose? he prompted.

The contractions are pretty hard, Kane.

Kane rubbed his jaw. Once again he’d underestimated. She hadn’t been afraid of Whitney’s men. She’d probably been sitting there, armed to the teeth, waiting for them to make a wrong move. She was worried the baby was coming too early.

As soon as you can get inside without looking as if there’s a problem, go in. Hopefully they’ll leave faster. Two of them plan on staying behind, but they can’t risk you seeing them, so they’ll have to set up camp a distance from here.

How long will you be, Kane?

There was a distinct quaver in her voice. He swore under his breath, the urge to just shoot the bastards and get to her nearly overwhelming common sense. I won’t be long, sweetheart.

He hoped he was telling the truth. He knew that two of Whitney’s men would return to the helicopter, probably as soon as Rose went inside, now that they had their visual confirmation for their boss. The other two might set up camp immediately, believing she was alone, or one might remain watching. If that happened, Kane was going to have to reenter the house using the tunnel, and that meant a long hike through the sand without being seen. Visibility on such a clear night was virtually miles. He’d be crawling, and Rose would be waiting, maybe going into labor.

I should have just shot the bastards. It would have been easier, Rose.