Predatory Game
Page 21

 Christine Feehan

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“You like it then? I bought it on a whim a couple of months ago. You know me, I never wear dresses.” She looked pleased at his response.
“I’d better get cleaned up to at least be presentable if I’m going to be seen with you. You look absolutely beautiful, Saber.”
A faint blush stole into her cheeks. “Did you get quite a bit of work done?”
He nodded as he followed her into the hall, unable to take his eyes from her slender form. Just the way she walked suggested music to him. She was beautiful, and while he dressed, all he did was fantasize over her. He took care with his clothes, wanting to impress her, wanting her to feel the way about him that he felt about her.
Saber waited while Jess changed into his dark Italian suit, the charcoal gray one. The one that always made Saber melt inside when he put it on. She loved the tangy, masculine scent of him, the way his hair was so neat except for that one persistent, very sexy lock of hair that always fell across the middle of his forehead.
In the van he sat for a minute, simply looking at her. His gaze was possessive, admiring, everything Saber could ever have wanted to see. It caused a rush of moist heat, the swirl of butterfly wings, and made her mouth go suddenly dry. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, and then swallowed hard when his hungry gaze followed the movement.
“Jesse,” she protested breathlessly.
“Kiss me.” His voice went husky with raw need. He needed her kiss, the feel of her lips, her mouth, his body burning with desire, craving the honeyed taste of her.
Even as her brain protested, her body was already leaning toward his, wanting the heat that flared between them, wanting just one more taste of the forbidden.
The moment his mouth claimed hers, the trembling started. His teeth teased at her full lower lip, insisting she open to him. Hesitantly she obeyed, liquid fire rushing through her veins, arousing something fierce and primitive in her that matched the savage in him.
His tongue claimed her mouth the way his body meant to claim hers, hard, thrusting, sweeping her up with him, a wild mating tango that went on forever. Her heart, soul, and body belonged to him in that moment, melting, merging, straining to be part of him.
Lack of adequate air tore them apart. Rather than let her go, Jess’s hands framed her head, his lips wandering over every inch of her face and throat. Saber moaned softly, clinging to the hard muscles of his shoulders.
“Do you want to stay home, baby?” He whispered the enticement, a sorcerer bent on tempting her.
Her breath left her in a rush and she stared at him, shocked and pleased and closer to agreeing than she wanted to admit. “We don’t dare, Jess.”
She didn’t dare. He, however, was altogether a different story. With Saber, he’d dare just about anything-give up anything-even his career if necessary. Very gently Jess put distance between them. It took a minute to control his breathing, to get his raging body under some semblance of control.
“Glory, Jesse, you have got to stop doing this.” Saber fanned herself with her hand, blue eyes so dark they were violet.
“Personally, angel face, I’m becoming quite partial to ‘doing this.’” He set the van in motion, a small, crooked smile softening the hard curve of his mouth.
An answering smile hovered on her lips. “Well, don’t think it’s going to be a habit. We’re liable to set the neighborhood on fire, we’re that combustible.”
His eyebrow shot up. “I don’t think you’re being the least bit open-minded about this, Saber.”
“It’s a matter of survival,” she informed him. Her long lashes concealed the expression in her eyes.
He flashed his predator’s smile. “Exactly. Now you’re getting the idea. It is a matter of survival.” There was no laughter in his voice.
She frowned, bit back a response, deeming it more prudent to remain silent. She was definitely not getting the better of him. In fact, she had a sinking suspicion she was losing ground fast. She wanted him so bad. More than she’d ever wanted anything in her life, yet he would always be out of reach. Even if a miracle happened and he really fell in love with her, she’d never be able to stay.
“Amazing,” he teased. “Saber Wynter without a word to say.”
She stared out the window, refusing to be provoked.
Jess’s laughter faded at her discomfort, and he reached a hand across the intervening space to brush her cheek with caressing fingertips. Saber jumped and turned her violet-blue gaze on him. Haunted eyes. It was Jess who swallowed hard and looked away.
The club was relatively small, suggesting intimacy. Most of the patrons knew each other and greeted Jess and Saber immediately. Saber stood at Jess’s side, her hand in his as they moved through the crowd to their table. Jess ordered her usual 7UP and orange juice without a murmur, one of the many things she appreciated about him. Saber never touched alcoholic beverages and normally her dates acted almost offended by it, or treated her as if she were a child who needed coaxing. Jess simply took her preference in stride.
The band was good, playing a mixture of rock and roll and slow romantic tunes.
“Jess. How good to see you.” The voice came from behind them, startling her. Saber hadn’t been aware of anyone approaching, and that was disconcerting. Normally, she was aware of everything. Her heart jumped and then began a quick hammer in her chest. She turned to see a couple right behind her, so close she could have touched them. Too close to have slipped her notice. She hadn’t scented them, felt their energy or rhythm, and her radar hadn’t gone off. Her heart sank. Jess had to be shielding them.
“Ken. Mari.” Jess held out his hand to the man.
Ken was covered completely in scars. It looked as though someone had sliced him into little pieces. He seemed as tough as steel, and his eyes were ice cold and watchful. Mari looked small beside him, but the way she moved was a dead giveaway.
These were GhostWalkers, not just friends of Jess. He had called in his team. She should have known he’d realize someone was watching them. She should have anticipated that he’d call on his friends. She was slipping, and now she was virtually surrounded by the enemy.
Jess caught her hand and tugged until she was beside him, so close she could feel his warmth. “Saber, these are good friends of mine. Ken and Mari Norton. They’re newlyweds, so expect them to suddenly gaze into each other’s eyes and forget we’re here. Ken, Mari, this is my Saber.”
Deliberately Saber forced a smile, studying the other woman, trying to place her, trying to figure out if they’d ever been in the same compound. Whitney had several training facilities and he liked to keep the girls in groups, but he separated the groups and introduced different training techniques in an effort to find what worked best. She’d never seen Mari before, but there was no doubt she was a soldier, a GhostWalker.
Saber stuck her hand out, her breath catching in her lungs-waiting. Would they take her hand? Did they know? If Whitney had sent them to retrieve her, they’d hesitate or find some excuse not to touch her. They’d fear even her touch.
Mari took her hand immediately, a welcoming smile on her face. “It’s so good to meet you.”
Ken not only took her hand, but covered it with his other one. If they knew about her, they were too good to show fear. “So you’re the woman who has finally put Jess in his place.”
For a moment she thought she hadn’t heard right. “It’s not like that…,” she began to protest, but Jess reached up and took her hand right out of Ken’s and kissed the center of her palm, his gaze locked with hers. She lost her train of thought.
“She’s the one,” Jess admitted. “She’ll deny it, but that’s because she’s an outrageous little liar. We were just about to dance.”
Ken leaned close to him. His voice was a pseudo-whisper. “It was Mari who dragged me here too. I sympathize greatly.”
Mari smiled and shook her head. “I can’t dance at all. Ken loves it.”
Ken wrapped his arm around her waist and took her out onto the dance floor. She slipped easily into his arms. They didn’t dance so much as hold one another and sway.
Jess’s black gaze burned possessively over Saber. He glided easily onto the floor and held out his hand to her. Saber’s smile was slow, unconsciously sexy, blue eyes clinging to his. She slid onto his lap, circling his neck with her slender arms, slowly relaxing against the wall of his chest, head on his shoulder. Jess’s hand slid up her back, his other swaying the racing chair to the slow, sensuous rhythm of the music.
She was unbearably soft, her skin hot through the thin separation of their clothing. Their hearts beat together, his body stirring to a fierce arousal all too noticeable against the back of her bare thigh. She smelled fresh and sweet and Jess couldn’t resist sliding his tongue along her neck, tasting soft, scented skin. His teeth nipped experimentally, the hand at her back drawing her even closer so that he could experience the reaction of her body. She laid her head on his shoulder, her hand tapping out a rhythm on the nape of his neck.
Saber was lost in the music, in the hard strength of his body. It was a melting heat, a merging of souls, a slow, erotic pulsing of blood and instruments, body and mind. It lasted an eternity, forever, it lasted a heartbeat, a moment.
As the soft strains of music faded away, the real world forced entrance to their private sanctuary. Bereft, Saber lifted her head, eyes starry, breath impossible to control. She looked as if he’d made love to her and for a moment Jess tightened his hold, almost forgetting where they were.
A swift upbeat number had couples breaking apart. Ken clapped Jess on the back. “Enough of that, you two,” he reprimanded. “Let’s see some moves.”
Reluctantly, Jess allowed Saber to slide from his lap, closing his eyes against the savage ache as her firm, rounded bu**ocks slid enticingly over his lap.
“Is that some kind of challenge?” He winked at Saber, his voice a little bit husky, his breathing not quite under control.
Ken nodded. “You got it, Calhoun. You and Saber are supposed to be so hot, at least that’s the word from Max.” He winked at Mari. “Well, maybe you already are.”
“Very funny.” Saber moved back, h*ps swaying to the beat of the music, feet picking up the rhythm. She didn’t know who Max was, but they’d all obviously discussed her in the context of her belonging with Jess, and she was absurdly pleased about that.
Jess smiled, a slow sensuous response to the rhythm of her body, easily tilted his chair, balancing on two wheels, moving with her, around her, Saber around him, close, apart, eyes locked on one another. Her body flowed with all the grace of a ballerina and the strength of a gymnast. She was a wild little thing of pure beauty, music mysteriously coming to life.
It was obvious they were in a world of their own, the only two people on the dance floor. It looked as though every moment had been choreographed to perfection, a swirl of man, woman, and machine. Jess’s ability to spin, jump, and glide in his wheelchair was phenomenal. Their soft, muted laughter and wild, skillful dancing continued for several songs.
Ken and Mari, laughing together, joined Saber and Jess at their table.
“So are we the champions?” Jess asked, grinning at his friend.
“I give up,” Ken conceded. “You two can keep your crowns.”
“I can’t dance at all,” Mari admitted. “Ken makes me look good, but I don’t think I’ll ever get the hang of it. Where’d you learn to dance like that, Jess?”
Jess sipped his drink, eyes on the perfection of Saber’s face. “This lady right here. She loves to dance, and has music going all the time. She’d nag me all the time, until I had no choice.”
He smiled at Saber tenderly.
You have it bad, Jess. Ken sent the thought telepathically. She’s definitely a GhostWalker, but Mari has never seen her before. Have you checked her out?