Ruthless Game by Christine Feehan Page B

and, if she was honest, so happy to see him.
    He caught her chin and forced her head up. The pounding in her chest was alarming. The baby drummed against her ribs, almost as frantic as she was. She moistened her lips, steeling herself to meet those gorgeous eyes. She was so broken, and Kane was the kind of man who would fix a woman, the rescuer, the hero, a man who could be counted on. She was using a good man, and she hated herself for it. The shame would be there in her eyes for him to see as well as her heart.
    The pad of his thumb brushed over her lips, and her womb clenched. The baby shifted. She forced herself to lift her lashes and look into his eyes. Everything in her stilled—settled. Kane, with his tough face and piercing eyes, looked at her and saw her. She could tell he wasn’t looking past her or at an illusion she created. He saw her weaknesses, and it was all right with him. She didn’t have to hide from him. She didn’t have to project what he wanted to see. For the first time in her life she could just be herself in front of another human being.
    “Are you afraid of me?”
    She hadn’t expected the question. Her mouth went dry. Was she? Not in the way he meant. Kane, for all of his ferocious soldier abilities, was gentle inside. She’d known that the moment she laid eyes on him. He could shift into battle in a moment, become a fierce protector, a fighter, and she had no doubt he would kill swiftly if need be, but he was gentle inside where it counted.
    “No ...” She had difficulty maintaining eye contact when that wasn’t exactly the truth. He deserved truth from her, and she’d promised herself she’d give it to him, no matter the cost, if he stayed with her. “Yes.”
    He leaned forward and brushed his mouth along hers. Featherlight. The breath of hope. Stealing her soul. Her heart jerked. Her stomach somersaulted. She held herself very still while sensations poured through her veins and rushed to invade her cells. She’d already taken him deep into her lungs, and she knew she’d never be able to get him out again.
    “You smell a little like heaven, Rose,” he said and shifted his weight, moving off the bed in one fluid motion that reminded her of flowing water. “I keep my promises. If you believe nothing else, believe that.”
    She did believe he kept his promises. She believed in him. And that was the entire problem. She was a woman who had been betrayed at birth by her own parents, dumped in an orphanage because she wasn’t male. The orphanage betrayed her by selling her to Whitney. Whitney betrayed her by raising her as a soldier instead of a child, and then conducting his experiments. In the end, he’d taken everything from her, including her dignity, forcing her into a breeding program, reducing all those years of work and discipline to nothing at all. He treated her as if it was only her body that mattered, not her psychic talent or all of her training. She was intelligent and able to fight as well as the male GhostWalkers, but Whitney had denied her even that. Believing in anyone was absolutely insane. Yet there was Kane.
    Kane left her there on the bed, taking the empty soup bowls with him. It was difficult to leave, but he was scaring her, and that was the last thing he wanted. She was stressed enough and in a delicate condition. He could stitch his own wounds and those of his team. He’d even been known to push a bullet through his skin a time or two, but this baby thing had him rattled. He didn’t have a clue what to do in the particular situation.
    At the door he paused and looked back at her. She seemed so small and lost and alone. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to tuck you in.”
    That bought him a ghost of a smile. “I’m not three.”
    “I know. I’m not doing it for you.” He turned and walked away from the sight of her.
    She was enough to break any man’s heart. For one moment he wished he was the hero type, the white knight charging in to save her, but he