Toxic Game (GhostWalkers #15) - Christine Feehan Page 0,131

Even with his continual training, genetics had to play a part.

“I like looking at you,” she confessed as he turned toward her. The box in his hand was enormous and looked heavy. It didn’t make sense that her heart was pounding, but it was. She touched her tongue to her upper lip, moistening it. She really couldn’t imagine what he’d gotten her.

Draden put the box on the bed and stepped back. She didn’t look at the present, she was too caught up in the expression on his face. He really liked giving her things. He was excited and a little anxious. She ran the pads of her fingers down his thigh. The one the MSS had darted. The swelling was down, as was the redness.

“Draden.” She breathed his name. “Look at this.” Her fingers stroked over the entry site. “It looks far better than it did yesterday. You heal fast.”

His eyes remained on her face, almost as if he were afraid to look, to believe, but eventually his gaze flicked down to his thigh. She heard his swift intake of breath.

“Maybe Trap wasn’t giving us a line of crap, Shylah. Maybe we have a chance. A real one. We gave him our blood. He’ll be able to tell if we’re still fighting it off or if it’s replicating too fast.”

She reached for the present, not looking at him. “If we do manage that kind of a miracle, will you regret marrying me? You can always ask them not file with the registry.” She kept her voice strictly neutral.

“I meant every damn word of my vows, woman. If you’re thinking of walking away from me, you can think again.”

She glanced up at him, hearing the underlying hint of anger in his voice. She realized immediately how she’d sounded. She was insecure, but he really had to be. His birth mother had sold him. The woman he’d called mother had died. He’d withheld his trust from just about everyone else until she came along.

Shylah sent him a tentative smile. “I’m glad you feel that way, because I was going to remind you what I do for a living.” She frowned suddenly. “What do you think the private sector pays for assassins?” Her hands paused on the wrapping paper and she looked up at him.

Those incredible blue eyes of his were darker than ever. “You plan on staying with me?”

He clearly wanted her to say it straight out. She felt like he was holding himself in.

“Of course I plan to stay with you. Don’t be a blockhead. I’m just as nervous as you are. I’ve never been in a relationship, but I love you more than life. I’m in all the way.”

He studied her face for what seemed forever. The expression on his face was so blatantly loving that she felt heat rising, spreading through her body. She loved that he would let himself be so vulnerable with her. “Did you just call me a blockhead?”

She pressed her lips together to stop a smile. “Sort of. Maybe. You kind of deserved it for already doubting me.”

“You were doubting first.”

Damn. He had her there. She had started it. Instead of confirming her culpability, she began to carefully remove the wrapping paper from the box.

“Shylah.”

She heaved a sigh but didn’t look up. “Okay, fine. I’ll admit I might have started the entire boneheaded conversation. What did you say about once it was over, it was over?”

“That was when I screwed up, not you.”

She laughed because she couldn’t help it. “You’re so crazy. I can’t get the box open. Whoever sealed it didn’t want what’s inside to see the light of day.” She frowned up at him. “It isn’t Whitney’s head on a platter or anything ghastly like that, is it?”

“I should have thought of that.” He caught up a knife from under the pillow and slid it carefully around the top of the box.

The contents were wrapped in Bubble Wrap and packed carefully in foam. She eased the first big piece out, glancing up at his face. His breath hitched. Hers did as well. Whatever he’d gotten her meant a lot to him. He hadn’t just had Joe pick something out. This was specific, from Draden to her.

Very slowly, her heart beating far too fast, she began to take the layers of Bubble Wrap from the object. Blue peeked out at her. Gold. It was shaped almost like a vase, but had golden feet and two scrolled golden handles. Then all air was trapped in