Toxic Game (GhostWalkers #15) - Christine Feehan Page 0,86

have to go. I have very little time. Peony’s got a gift for tracking and we need her to run these men down.”

“Keep sending reports.”

Draden had enough. He hit the end button and turned to face Shylah. There was no condemnation on her face, but then he didn’t expect to see it there. He knew her now. He knew she waited on judgment. Because she hunted criminals, he thought she might see in terms of black and white, but she seemed to listen to everything with an open mind. Still, he had committed murder. There was no getting around that. It had to be said.

“Just tell me,” she said.

“Not here.” The little room reeked of the three scientists and what they’d done. He didn’t want to confess to her there, where their evil lingered.

She was the one who held out her hand, signaling to him that she was willing to hear him out, just as he knew she would. He enclosed those delicate fingers in his much larger hand, needing the connection. Even when he’d asked her to stay if they both lived, she hadn’t answered him.

They walked together across the clearing, back into the forest along the trail leading to the ranger’s hut. “We needed those files, Shylah. I would have sold my soul for them.”

“I’m aware of that.” She glanced up at the sky and then looked to the trees. “The birds are usually very vocal this time of day.”

“Soldiers surrounding us.”

It was after noon and should have been bright and sunny. The early morning had held promise, but already the oppressive heat had come and with it, dark, ominous clouds. They moved overhead with the building wind.

“Obviously, but it could be the weather,” she commented. She didn’t push him to get started on his explanation. He was certain most women would.

“A storm is coming in. According to Malichai, who likes to give us all kinds of trivial facts about weather when we’re on a helicopter and can’t get off, Indonesia has frequent storms, but they aren’t nearly as intense as those in some other countries.”

She sent him a tantalizing smile, one that held a hint of laughter, but also something deeper. “Good to know.”

Her smile did something to his insides. He’d been tense. His gut in knots. That one, brief smile tied them together. It felt like an intimacy between them. That smile was his alone and he knew that.

He was falling deeper with every minute in her company. Trap and Wyatt. They had to save her. He knew others were working to find a vaccine or at least a therapy to aid the two of them, but he counted on his fellow GhostWalkers. Trap was renowned in the field, Wyatt, a close second. At least he knew the two tenacious GhostWalkers wouldn’t stop trying.

They approached the ranger’s hut as they always did, very cautiously. She checked the webs, he checked their surroundings. Nothing had been touched. Once inside, she headed for the small shower. It was mostly cold water, but after hunting killers all night through the forest, he knew she always showered, cold water or not. He stood at the window and watched the storm coming in.

Just as in the swamp he called home, it was warm—almost hot, yet it was growing dark, and in the distance, he heard the first roll of thunder. Drops of rain fell through the canopy, turning the leaves of the trees a beautiful silver. They hit the roof, drumming loudly, and he knew the drops were probably warmer than the water pouring over Shylah’s body.

The moment the thought came to him, he tried to push it away. The image of her naked, all soft skin and nothing else, just a few feet from him, was difficult to get out of his mind. They couldn’t go there until she knew everything she needed to know about his past.

Still, she had those breasts. Full. Round. High. When they lay in bed, his hand had cupped the undersides and his thumb had grazed her nipple. She had the kind of nipples he could play with for hours and never get tired of. He wondered how sensitive she’d be when his mouth was on her. His tongue. His teeth.

If you don’t intend to do anything about it, stop thinking about putting your mouth on me. That’s hard to ignore.

He spun around. She stood just outside the shower, wearing a tank top and jeans. She dried her hair with a towel, but the water