Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers, #9)(44)
I’ll be there in a few minutes, sweetheart. Not that he was all that much comfort to her—yet.
He had grown up on the streets, but he’d had Mack and Jaimie and the others as a family. They’d banded together, and Mack’s mother watched over them all as best she could. He’d learned trust and loyalty growing up that way. Who had taught those things to Rose? Her childhood had been one of discipline and duty. She’d learned to endure, but she was determined to give their baby something she’d never had—a loving parent. He was just as determined that he would be right beside her.
Fargo picked up the empty bottle and stared at it morosely. “Swear to me that if I go into town after our little senorita and some supplies, you won’t go near the woman.”
Carlson glared at him. “She’s my woman, not just any woman. But no, I’m not about to screw up. Just bring us someone who can take a lot of heat. I like it rough.”
“It’s not like we’re giving her back,” Fargo said. “She’ll take it any way we want to give it to her.”
Carlson glanced at his watch. “Rose will be sitting outside in another twenty minutes, and after that we’ll report to Whitney. You can go when he shuts down for the night. You’ll have plenty of time to get what we want and be back here before anyone is the wiser.”
Fargo stood up, stretching. He tucked his knife into his belt and kicked at the empty bottle. “A woman sure beats chasing those coyotes with homemade arrows.”
Carlson smirked. “True, if she fights some. Coyotes sure do scream if you hit them in the right place. And they can take a long time to die.”
“You’re such a sick bastard, Carlson. That’s what I like about you.” Fargo stumbled away from the camp.
The smile faded from Carlson’s face, and he looked again toward the hidden house in the desert—and Rose. Kane didn’t like the look on his face, a dark promise of retribution.
Very carefully Kane began to backtrack, crawling, belly down, over the contoured slopes, stopping every few feet to erase his tracks with a small push of air. He had to make it back to get in a position to better protect Rose while she sat outside and put on her pregnancy show.
The baby’s restless, Rose sent him. Come inside. I think he has a tummyache. You’ll have to walk him while I sit outside.
Rose. He put a warning in his voice. There was nothing about the situation he liked. If he went inside, she sat outside without his protection. If she didn’t go out, they ran the risk of Whitney’s men thinking she was giving birth and breaking in. Parents allow their babies to sleep for twenty minutes all alone in their own rooms.
He made his nightly circle around the house, careful to search for any signs that the house had been approached. Once the men settled for the night, he usually checked the tunnel, just to be certain. He was nervous about that entrance. Neither of Whitney’s men had gone near the hidden entrance, and he doubted they knew of its existence—which meant Whitney didn’t know either.
What game had Diego Jimenez been playing with Whitney? Clearly he’d traded information for delivering Rose to Whitney, yet he hadn’t said a word about the weapons, the tunnel, or the Humvee to Rose, a logical thing to do if he was really trying to help her. What did that mean exactly? He had to figure it all out soon, because time was running out for them fast.
He isn’t asleep, Kane. I can’t leave him.
He swore under his breath and then made an effort to calm down. Damn it, Rose. Do you have any idea what could happen if Carlson decided he wanted to visit with you tonight?
I’d kill him, she replied calmly. I’m no longer in a cage, and I’m not tied up. He’d be dead the moment he showed his face.
She wasn’t going to budge on her threat. If he didn’t come in and watch the baby, she was staying inside. Suppose he decides to dart you from a distance and take you while you were out? That’s what I’d do.
He’s not as smart as you, and in any case, you’d come after me, kill him, and take me back, so no matter what, you have to come inside and look after our son.
She’d pulled the “our son” card. How did a man react to that one? Women had sneaky little ways about them. He had all the logic in the world on his side, but it didn’t seem to matter, not when she knew how to twist everything until there was no way but hers.
Kane sighed and capitulated. Coming in. Are you going to win every argument? He was pretty certain he’d asked her that once before. Maybe twice.
Only the important ones.
He should have been angry at the feminine pleasure in her voice, but he loved her laughter, and he’d take it no matter how it came—even if he was the recipient of her amusement.
He slipped and slid down the last slope to the trail leading to the door. As he turned back to cover his tracks, he spotted Carlson and Fargo. They were hunched low, running to get in place before Rose’s normal time to sit outside. She’d already established a pattern, and they were counting on it. That gave him pause. Rose was a trained soldier. She knew better than to repeat patterns, yet neither Carlson nor Fargo had questioned her movements. He’d talked to her about varying the time she sat outside, but she’d been adamant that she sit outside at the same time each night. Which again made no sense until she explained.
Whitney expected her to forget her training, to become undisciplined in her actions because she was a woman out in the world without someone giving commands. He’d told them over and over that they would fail out of their environment. They weren’t male, and they needed a commander. Rose was giving Whitney what he expected.