Conspiracy Game by Christine Feehan Page A

I asked. You don’t like it, do you?”
    She shrugged. “I have trouble being in a space with so many people. It can be difficult, but I’m used to it.” She sent him a small smile. “It’s actually pretty amazing to be with you. I don’t feel sick or in pain at all.”
    “Why do you keep doing it?”
    She stretched to catch a dangling rope. “Because it’s my life. It’s what we do.” She went up the rope, her body fluid and graceful, pulling herself up hand over hand, not even using her feet.
    Jack caught the rope next to the one she went up and began his ascent, traveling faster to catch up with her. She increased her speed, forcing him to increase his. He heard her soft laughter, a challenge to him, and he passed her, reaching out to catch her rope with one hand, halting her progress.
    She wrapped her foot in the rope and grinned at him. “You have such an ego.”
    Her mouth was only inches from his, and her tantalizing feminine scent seemed to fill his lungs, until he was breathing her through his entire body. He loved the shape of her mouth and the way her smile lit her eyes.
    “You don’t even know.” He leaned into her, dragging her rope even closer. If he was any kind of a man, it had to be said. “You shouldn’t be alone with me.” He didn’t release her. She could drop away from him, but she couldn’t climb any higher.
    They stared at each other for what seemed an eternity. “Close your eyes.”
    Her eyes widened. She blinked twice, almost as if mesmerized, but then her lashes fluttered and she pulled back, shaking her head. “You can’t kiss me.”
    “I’m going to kiss you.”
    “I don’t kiss anyone.”
    His eyebrow shot up. “ Ever? ”
    “I can’t touch people. I mean, I do my family, but it has—repercussions.”
    “You kissed me.”
    “That wasn’t a kiss.”
    Jack allowed the rope to slip out of his hand, but kept pace with her as she climbed above the highest platform. He watched her swing upside down, perform a slow somersault in the air, and set her feet onto the platform. “You don’t have repercussions when you touch me.” He did the same controlled maneuver so that he stood beside her. He caught her by the shoulders and dragged her close to him, his grip unbreakable.
    Without another word he lowered his head to hers. There was no point in arguing—he had to kiss her. He couldn’t think of anything but the shape of her mouth, the soft texture of her lips—and he wanted to taste her. Almost from the first time he’d caught her feminine scent, she’d filled his mind, until he could think of little else.
    The moment his lips touched hers, time seemed to stop, to stand still. There was only Briony in his world. Not his shattered body, wracked with pain, not his firm resolve to keep her at an emotional distance—everything that had come before was gone, until there was only this one woman. She tasted of hot spice and honey, an addicting rush that sped through his veins with the speed of a fireball and settled deep inside of him. He would never get her out. He could spend the rest of his life kissing her and it would never be enough.
    He caught her face in his hands, holding her still while his mouth moved over hers and his tongue probed deep, wanting more, claiming more. He started with the best of intentions, a light, feathering kiss, tongue tracing her soft lips and teasing until she opened for him, but the moment he sank into the magic of her mouth, soft and warm and so inviting, he couldn’t prevent the groan of hunger, the ravenous need that broke free so that he took complete control of the kiss, using every bit of experience and expertise he had. He didn’t want to give her time to think—only to feel—to want him the way he wanted her.
    Something struck the metal frame of the building, and Briony pulled away, swinging her head around, her breath coming in a ragged gasp. “Soldiers?”
    “Maybe,” he replied grimly.
    “They’re at the door,” she