Conspiracy Game

Page 33

“Yeah? Well, don’t be too sure about that. The way I understand it, Whitney’s not having much luck getting us lab rats together so he’s trying to round up the women and establish some kind of baby factory with a few of his enhanced soldiers volunteering for donor duty.”
“Okay, that’s just sick.” Ken frowned. “So this woman-the one I’d react to-might be locked up in Whitney’s basement as a broodmare?”
“Makes you want to meet the son of a bitch on a dark night with no one around, doesn’t it?”
Ken crossed to his brother’s side and bent close to Briony’s neck, inhaling deeply. He was acutely aware of the rising tension and Jack’s sudden stillness. He straightened slowly, winked at his brother, and backed up. “Doesn’t do a thing for me.”
“Well, next time you’re going to get personal, you might warn me.”
“Get used to it. If you’re keeping her, then she’s my sister and that child is my niece or nephew. I’m a hands-on kind of man.”
“You just like to piss me off,” Jack said.
“Well, there’s that. On the other hand, we’ll find out really fast just how much of a bastard you’re going to be to live with-with your woman around. You get out of line, and I’ll have to take you out behind the barn.”
“We don’t have a barn.”
“I told you we needed a barn, damn it,” Ken said. “You had to have a shop. It doesn’t sound the same saying I’m taking you out behind the shop.” Ken dropped his hand on his brother’s shoulder, a silent gesture of camaraderie-of solidarity. “It’s getting a little cold out here for me. I’m for bed.”
Jack watched his brother walk into the house. Ken’s shoulders were straight, his gait even and fluid, but his heart was heavy, aching with the weight of dread-of the nightmare both had always feared. The savage wounds on Ken’s body had healed, but the scars were everywhere, inside and out. Jack didn’t like contributing to his brother’s burden, but there was no help for it.
Briony stirred in his arms, shivered, and snuggled closer, her body squirming against his groin. The feeling was different than any he’d experienced. The painful, aching tightness was there, a swift response he was becoming used to, but there was more, a rush of emotion threatening to choke him. He should have felt reluctance-he did feel it, but the wakening sensations, affection, stirrings of love mixed with passion and his heightened senses were all unexpected.
He stood up, cradling her slight weight against his chest. She lifted her head, blinked, and looked around her. “I was dreaming.”
“What were you dreaming?”
“That there were two of you.”
He took her into the house, striding down the hall toward his room. “That must have been frightening. Two men to order you around.”
“Not really.” She laid her head back down on his shoulder. “I’m used to four brothers, all with loud opinions.”
She sounded amused and drowsy all at once. It wasn’t just her scent, he decided, as he laid her on the bed and stretched out beside her. She trusted him on some instinctive level. No one trusted him-not even his twin brother, not even Ken. He turned on his side to wrap his arm around her, pressing his body close to hers.
“Don’t try anything,” she warned. “I’d have to smack you around.”
“I was just going to tell you the same thing,” Jack said.
“Really?” She turned her head to look at him, amusement creeping into her dark eyes. “What are you doing in here?”
“Keeping you from sleepwalking. It’s the only way I’m going to get any sleep.”
“I don’t sleepwalk.”
“It’s safer, trust me, baby.”
It wasn’t, but she wasn’t going to get into the reasons why. She turned completely over to study his face. “What if they find us? They could hurt your brother, Jack. I didn’t think about that. I was so busy protecting my brothers, I didn’t think about yours, and I should have. I’m sorry.”
“You had no way of knowing Ken and I shared a house.”
“Yes, I did.” Her gaze slid from his, flicked up to the ceiling. “You were worried about him when you were in Kinshasa. The rebels had tortured him, worse than what they did to you, and you were upset that you didn’t get to him fast enough. I caught glimpses of your home and knew he lived close-or with you. I just should have thought about how you’d feel if something happened to him.”
“You were thinking about the baby. You didn’t want to come here,” Jack pointed out. If she was going to be honest about the things she’d glimpsed, so could he. They had to come to an understanding at some point. She wasn’t ready yet, and he didn’t blame her, but he wasn’t going to pretend with her. She’d come to him. She had to know what kind of man she was dealing with. “I intend for you to make this your home.”
“I’m going to take one day at a time. I’m too comfortable with your touch, and I don’t trust myself around you anymore.”
“Don’t worry, baby, if you try to jump me, I’ll fend you off.”
She smiled, just as he knew she would. “Don’t think it couldn’t happen.”
The smile faded slowly and she looked frightened, so much so that Jack wrapped his arm around her waist. “What is it?”
“Doesn’t that bother you? What he did to us? You don’t have to even like me as a person, Jack. All that matters is ha**ng s*x together.”
He reached for her hand, held it close to his chest, rubbing her skin with his thumb. “I’ve got news for you, Briony. Most men are just fine with that.”
She yanked her hand away. “So I found out.” Hunching one shoulder, she turned on her side. “Isn’t there another bedroom where I can sleep?”
“No. You can sleep in here. I have to be able to watch over you.”
That low note of command was back in his voice, the one that grated on her nerves and implied that he was in complete control, while she was a victim of her runaway hormones.
“Do you ever ask?”
Jack didn’t know why her sarcasm made him want to smile. “No. What would be the point? You’re so tired, Briony, you don’t know what you’re doing or saying anymore. I’m not about to let anything happen to you. If you’d rather I sat in a chair all night, I will, but it won’t change how we’re both feeling.”
“You don’t know anything about my feelings.”
Exasperated, he caught her hand and forced it between his legs, over the thick bulge pulsing with heat and urgent need. “It’s not going to matter a damn whether I’m sitting six feet from you, in the next room, or lying beside you. This isn’t going to go away until I’m buried deep inside of you where I belong.” He let go of her hand, nearly shoving it away from him. “Now go to sleep before I forget all my good intentions and get a little relief.”
Again Briony surprised him. He expected tears-or anger at his rough response, but she laughed softly. “There’s some comfort in knowing I’m not the only one suffering.”
“You don’t have to. You give me the word and we’ll both be sleeping like babies.” If she said no, he might have no recourse but to head for the shower as soon as possible and relieve the terrible ache. It would be fast and cheap and unsatisfying, but hell, he was going to explode. And he had the sinking feeling the solution wouldn’t last more than the next lungful of air he drew.
“I think a little suffering is good for your soul,” Briony said.
Her voice was muffled in the pillow, but he was absolutely certain she was laughing at him. Jack contented himself with smacking her on her pretty little rounded ass, and was more than satisfied when she yelped and glared at him. He closed his eyes and tried not to think of her body naked, stretched under his while he drifted off to sleep. He hadn’t embarrassed himself since he was twelve, but tonight might start a new phase in his life. Even with his physical discomfort, there was something right about lying beside her, having her close enough to hear her breathing and touch her soft skin-just to know she was there.
He heard her even breathing, slow and rhythmic, and knew she’d finally drifted off. Turning on his side, wrapping his body protectively around hers, he pushed his throbbing groin against the curve of her bu**ocks, one arm around her, his hand splayed over her stomach to hold their child as he allowed himself to drift into a light sleep.
CHAPTER 12
Briony wandered through the large house, surprised by how spacious it was. The ceilings were high and the rooms open, one running into the next. The house itself was shaped in a U, the kitchen, dining room, and great room separating the two wings. She peeked into the rooms in Jack’s wing and found only his bedroom and the bathroom finished. The second bedroom was still under construction, with the walls bare Sheetrock.
In the great room, the furniture was sparse but well made, and she examined it closely, running her hand along the large, wide sofa, remembering Jack admitting that he made all of the furniture. It was beautiful, as were the other pieces, all made of the same hardwood. She didn’t know if it was milled from their own trees, but she suspected it was. The cushions were thick and made of leather, obviously custom-made to fit each piece of furniture. Jack continually surprised her.
She followed the rich aroma of fresh coffee into the spacious kitchen and stopped abruptly when she saw the stranger sitting at the table. Even from the back, he looked like Jack, but there was a subtle difference in his scent. She stood in the doorway, reluctant to intrude.
He turned his head and smiled at her. “You must be Briony. Come in and have some breakfast.”
He looked like Jack-not as hard, but far more ravaged. The scars marring his skin looked painful and deep, but somehow he managed to look not only confident-but good-looking in a rough pirate sort of way.
He stood up and crossed to the sink. “Coffee or orange juice with breakfast? I’d choose coffee if I were you. Jack’s already handing out orders about what you can and can’t have. It may be the last time you get close enough to even smell a cup of coffee in a while.”
She laughed. “Both then.” It was difficult not to stare at him, and she didn’t know if it was his resemblance to Jack or the scars. Although Ken was much more mutilated, she recognized the patterns and symmetry of his scarring, so much like those on Jack’s body. “Where is he?”
“Left for town before sunup. I think he’s buying clothes, groceries, and making you a doctor’s appointment.” He grinned at her as he held out a chair. “I’d love to be a little fly on the wall when they try to tell him he has to wait a week or two to get you in.”
“Want to make a bet whether or not I’ll be going today?”
“Hell no. Jack has no social skills. If they give him a hard time, he’s liable to pull out a knife this big”-he measured a foot with his hands-“and start cleaning his fingernails. If he wants you seen by a doctor today, you will be.”
Briony sank into the chair. “He didn’t say anything about a doctor to me.”
“You’ll get used to him. He doesn’t talk much. He’s more of a man of action. He muttered something about prenatal care while he was drinking his coffee. I didn’t know he knew what prenatal was.” Ken placed a plate of food in front of her. “I’m not the best cook, but it’s food.”
Briony laughed again. “He definitely takes charge. And the food looks good.”
Ken lifted his coffee cup, the smile fading from his eyes. “Jack’s always had to be in charge, and that won’t change. He’s a strong man, and he knows what he can and can’t have in his life to stay balanced.”