Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)(116)

Her palms hurt. She closed her fingers, forming a fist, her palm covered. She could feel the needles going through her skin, penetrating deep. Pinning her down. An insect. She felt venom rising. Her mouth hurt from keeping her lips clamped tight.


“Cayenne?” Nonny’s voice sounded far away.


Trap. She reached out telepathically. He wasn’t supposed to see her before the ceremony. She knew that. Knew they would all disapprove, but she needed him. She was desperate for his strength.


Baby. What is it?


She clung to his mind, knew he was surrounded by his friends. All the men he knew. Still, he answered her immediately.


I can’t… She trailed off. She could marry him. Just not like this. Not with everyone staring at her like she was an insect under a microscope. She wasn’t a true arachnid because she didn’t have eight legs. But still, she preferred that to the insect that all the men liked to call her. If they were referring to the spider in her, they should at least get that part right.


The door swung open and he filled the space, his wide shoulders and tall frame taking nearly every inch of it up. He was dressed in a black tuxedo and he looked gorgeous, the most handsome man she could possibly imagine. He took her breath away. Nonny scowled at him. Pepper tried to shoo him out. The little girls screeched a welcome and ran to throw arms around his legs. His hands automatically went to the girls’ hair, but he didn’t look at any of them. Only her. Only Cayenne, as if she was all he could see.


The terrible burning in her lungs eased, and for the first time in hours she felt she could draw air all the way in. He absently patted the girls on their heads and then, eyes still on her face, strode right in, closing the door behind him, muting the noise and blocking all view of her to their guests.


“Baby,” he said softly, as if they were the only two people in the room. His voice was black velvet, intimate. Brushing over her skin like the pads of his fingers. Featherlight, but commanding. His voice steadied her instantly. “Talk to me.”


She swallowed hard, feeling a coward. He needed this from her, and she always wanted to please him, to make him happy. She knew this was important to him, but she couldn’t make her feet move. Trap had called a reporter he sometimes talked to, one he respected more than most. He’d given him the scoop that one of the world’s most eligible bachelors was off the market and getting married in a few days. There was a picture of the two of them, smiling at each another, and a brief write-up on her, with a background she still was memorizing.


Trap had even given her dance lessons every night so they could dance after they were married. Trap seemed good at everything he did. He was graceful, fluid even, like a cat, and when he moved across the floor to the music, his rhythm was impeccable. In the privacy of their home, she loved it. She loved the feel of his body against hers, the masterful way he guided her steps, the shared laughter. She didn’t feel awkward at all. She actually felt happy. His woman. But not here. Not in front of them all.


Trap gently moved Nonny out of his way. “Baby, you should have called to me the moment you started getting nervous. There was no need for you to get so frightened.”


She moistened her lips. “This is important to you.” Her voice was low. A confession when she hadn’t even told him what a coward she was.


“You’re important to me. Talk to me. What’s wrong?” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side, under his shoulder, shielding her the way he did with his body.


“There’s too many people,” she admitted, her fingers finding the lapel of his elegant jacket. “I can’t walk out there in front of them with all of them staring at me.” A small shudder went through her body. “I know they’re your friends and you want them here. I want them here for you as well, but I can’t seem to move.”


She was close to tears. Too close. It would ruin the makeup Pepper had so carefully applied for the photographs. Nonny explained the importance of pictures and showed her several of the family albums. Pictures of her four grandsons decorated the walls. There were beautiful photographs of Gator and Flame as well as Wyatt and Pepper in the parlor and along the wall above the stairs. Cayenne wanted to line her walls with pictures of Trap and her, or just Trap. She wanted her home to feel the way Nonny’s house felt.


Trap bent his head to hers, his strong fingers under her chin, tilting her face toward his. “Baby, you don’t have to go out there alone. This is our ceremony. We get to make up the rules.”


“I’ve already ruined everything because you aren’t supposed to see me ahead of time.”


“Do you think I’ve ever, in my life, given a flying f*ck about the rules? I haven’t. That’s the answer, babe, I’ve never cared about rules. You don’t want to walk out there alone, without me, we walk out together. The girls can go ahead of us. No one’s going to care. They’re just happy you got me all wrapped around your little finger so they can give me hell whenever they feel like it.”


She couldn’t help it. He made her want to laugh. It was such a Trap response. “You can’t swear in front of the girls. Nonny told me if you keep it up, she might have to wash out your mouth with soap. I like kissing you and you might not taste as good.”