Deadly Game
Page 20

Her breath stilled, caught in her lungs as his gaze drifted possessively over her, hot and aroused and filled with na**d desire. She could feel fingers stroking over her br**sts, almost feel the bite of his teeth, the lap of his tongue teasing her ni**les, fingers stroking her inner thighs until her body wept with need.
Stop it! Mari circled his neck with her arms, pressing closer so he could feel the hard peaks of her ni**les. You’re killing me here. You can’t do this with the others here. We aren’t alone.
I can’t do this without them here. If we were alone, I’d strip you na**d and eat you alive. God, Mari, do you have any idea how bad I want to lay you down and f**k your brains out? Damn it. That didn’t come out right. It’s more than that—far more than that. Because he wanted her to belong to him. He wanted to wake up every morning looking at her face, find ways to make her laugh, take years to know every facet of her personality. He didn’t know why, but that need was every bit as strong as the need to be deep inside of her.
He could smell her musky scent, calling to him. She was damp with need, reacting to his graphic fantasy and language. Instead of being afraid or repulsed, she was reacting. A part of him wanted to weep. Any woman should run screaming from his mutilated body. In his fantasy, the images in his head, he had been explicit, his c**k scarred with multiple cuts, his balls covered with them. He hadn’t held back the need for rough sex, yet she wanted him. Just the thought of her wanting him made him so hard he thought he might burst, and each time her bottom slid seductively over the thick bulge in his lap, his blood pounded savagely.
Has it ever been like this for you before?
Ken could hear the sudden shy note in her voice. She was embarrassed to ask him, yet needed to know. He tunneled his fingers through the thick mass of gold- and platinum-colored hair. No.
What are we going to do about it?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m going to put as much distance between us as possible.
And I don’t have a say in your decision?
He bent his head to hers, buried his face in her hair and just held her close to him, savoring her scent and the softness of her body. You don’t know what you are, Mari. A gift. Something to treasure, something so precious I don’t dare take a chance on being around you. If I had you, even once, I’d never be able to let you go. He brushed a kiss in her hair, uncaring that his brother was watching. He had only a few more precious hours with her and then she’d be out of his life forever. He was going to take what he could get. I could never say these things out loud to you. It’d sound corny, and I’d feel like an idiot, but you need to hear them.
Maybe I’m not able to let you go, Mari ventured.
You have no choice.
Chapter 8
“She’s had two nosebleeds on the plane and we can’t get this one stopped,” Logan announced, racing to open the door for Lily. “Did you pull her file so we could match her blood type?”
Ken carried Mari in his arms, jogging after the dark-haired woman as she hurried down the hall to the small clinic in the giant laboratory complex.
“Jack or Ken can donate. They’re both the same blood type,” Lily answered, gesturing toward the beds. “Get her in here fast.”
Everything was happening so quickly, Mari didn’t have time to think about it. The moment her nose started to bleed, the men were on the radio talking to Lily Whitney, getting instructions and talking to one another in rapid code.
She knew they were worried when she was whisked from the plane and into a heavily armored car with tinted windows and they drove at breakneck speed to a heavily guarded facility. Ken placed her carefully on the bed, and she reluctantly let her arm drop from around his neck. The moment she was no longer in physical contact with him, she felt alone and vulnerable.
Lily Whitney walked with a limp and was very pregnant. She had dark hair and a worried look on her face. Still—she was Peter Whitney’s daughter—the one person the sadist megalomaniac seemed to care about. She sent a distracted smile toward Mari, obviously meant to reassure her. “Which of you is giving blood?”
Ken rolled up his sleeve. “Me.”
“Take the bed next to her. I’ve got to administer the antidote, but she’s going to crash and crash hard. I’ve got a team assembled, so don’t panic on me.”
“What do you mean crash?” Mari asked. She reached out instinctively to Ken, gripping his hand. “What does she mean?”
“There’s no time,” Lily snapped. “You’ve had the drug in your system too long. Your cells are breaking down. I’ve got to get the IVs in you right now. Don’t fight me on this.”
“Mari.” Ken’s voice was low and calm. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m going to be right here. Let her put the IVs in and give you the antidote.”
Mari tried to quell the panic rising rapidly. They were all afraid—especially Ken. He had that same expressionless mask he normally wore, but his eyes slashed at her in warning. He would force compliance if she didn’t stay calm and let them do this.
Terror reigned. She didn’t know them. She didn’t trust them—especially Peter Whitney’s daughter. She had known betrayal most of her life. Could all this be an elaborate plot of some kind?
Ken framed her face with both hands. “If you never trust me again, this one time, I’m asking you to put your life in my safekeeping. You’re going to crash as soon as Lily gives you the antidote, but you’ll bleed out if you don’t get it. We’ll bring you back. I swear to you, Mari, this is no trick.”
Lily didn’t wait for Mari to make up her mind. She was putting the IVs in her arm and one in each leg with astonishing efficiency. “Lie down on the bed beside Mari, Ken.” She flashed a small smile in Mari’s direction. It will help to keep her calm. We need her very calm. “I’m Lily. I’m sure you don’t remember me,” she said aloud.
“I know of you.” Mari tried not to wince when the needle went in. I hate needles, she confessed, ashamed. It’s so stupid really. I can break bones and shoot someone at a hundred yards without batting an eye, but I hate needles. She should be used to them; Whitney was always taking blood for something, or giving her shots, or strapping her to a table and adding to her genetic enhancements. He used her as the guinea pig much more often than the other women because he considered her difficult to control. She asked too many questions, incited the other women to rebellion.
She felt Ken settle in next to her, his weight making her body roll toward his. Their h*ps touched. His thigh slid along hers. The heat of his body warmed the cold of hers. She was instantly hyper-aware of him, of his masculine scent and his sheer strength—of the fact that she was a woman and he was a man.
“Relax, Mari.” His fingers tangled with hers.
Lily and another man were working to get bags of something thick and yellow into the IVs while someone else was sticking needles into Ken’s arm.
Tell me what’s happening.
Don’t panic. We’ll get you through this. Lily is really good. She’s studied this drug, because Zenith obviously can regenerate our cells, but after it’s been in our systems for a length of time, it begins to have a negative impact. The cells deteriorate at a very rapid rate, almost the same rate as healing occurs. He squeezed her hand to reassure her. Mass hemorrhaging occurs. She’s giving you the antidote fast, that’s why so many IVs. She’ll shoot some of the antidote into your muscles as well.
And that’s already happening to me. That’s why the leg keeps bleeding and now I’m getting nosebleeds. A frisson of fear crept down her spine. She could deal with anything if she knew what was happening. She would not panic. Why would he continue to give us the drug if he knew it would kill us?
The pad of Ken’s thumb brushed back and forth over her wrist. Blood began to run in a tube from his arm to hers. If you’re captured and can’t get to him, you die. It’s another protection in place for him. If you come back, he administers an antidote and no one is the wiser. If someone comes back late, he either saves them where no one can see or that person simply disappears. He wins any way you look at it. All of us are disposable.
I’ll bet Lily isn’t. Mari studied the face of the doctor’s daughter. She wore a look of total determination. No one was that good of an actress. Lily Whitney was totally focused on saving Mari’s life.
Has he talked about her lately?
No one gets that close to him—well—other than Sean. Sean’s a supersoldier, and Whitney keeps him around as a bodyguard.
There was that name again. Sean. Ken often caught glimpses of Sean in Mari’s mind. More than that, there was respect—admiration even. His gut twisted into hard knots at the mention of the man, and something dark and shadowy swirled in his brain.
Could I really die?
He brought her knuckles to his lips wanting to comfort her, not wanting to answer her, or think about the possibilities. She sounded forlorn, and vulnerable. His heart reacted with a strange shifting. There was more blood at the corner of her mouth. Ken ignored the way air rushed from his lungs, leaving him fighting to breathe. He refused to panic if Mari wasn’t. Lily would save her because there was no other choice.
If something happens to me, tell Briony I thought of her every day—that her happiness mattered more to me than anything else. Even in his mind, her voice sounded faraway, paper thin, as if she struggled to breathe, to live.
Ken went still, holding her hand tightly against his lips. Her skin was soft, even along the scar that split his lip. “You aren’t going to die, Mari. We won’t let that happen.” He said the words aloud because he wanted Lily to hear. He struggled to keep his voice even, calm, without a threat, when he knew he meant it as a threat—when everyone in the room knew it was a threat. His heart pounded in terror. He couldn’t lose her this way. He wouldn’t let Whitney win this battle. Mari had to live.
Lily put her hand briefly on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Ken. I understand.”
Maybe she understood, but he didn’t. He felt torn in two. Mari was virtually a stranger, yet he felt as if he knew her intimately. He had known the GhostWalkers for some time, many of them for years, but it was Mari he wanted to protect, Mari he needed to know was safe and alive and well somewhere in the world—even if it couldn’t be with him.
“How could he do this?” Ken bit out the question before he could stop himself, glaring at Lily, a sudden flash of anger shaking him.
Ryland, Lily’s husband, frowned, straightening slowly from where he was bent over Ken’s arm, making certain blood was flowing smoothly from one patient to the other. There was a certain threat in his manner.
Lily shook her head slightly to warn her husband not to interfere. “I don’t know, Ken. I’ve asked myself that question a million times. They say the line between genius and insanity is too fine to measure. And he’s deteriorating every day.”
“Why do you say he’s deteriorating?”
“He’s been hacking into our computers right from the day he disappeared. Flame found a way to get a program into his computer so we can spy on him. From his notations I can see that his mental state is slipping more and more with each new project. He’s so far from reality, I can’t even begin to guess what he might do next. I have no idea how we’re going to stop him.”
There was utter weariness in her voice. Lines of worry edged her young face. Her eyes held sorrow—too much sorrow and responsibility for a woman her age. Ken reached out to touch Lily’s hand. “I do.” He said it with conviction, wanting her to believe him, wanting to ease her suffering.
Mari caught his arm and tugged, the gesture weak but insistent. He turned his head toward her. She was glaring at him.
What’s wrong?