Power Game

by Christine Feehan

  She doubted that, but she loved hearing him say it. She hadn't gotten that far in her dreams. She wanted the home and family, but she didn't know the least thing about being physical with a man. She'd kept as far from that subject as possible because Whitney had his beloved breeding program and was always selecting one of her fellow soldiers to partner with one of his supersoldiers to try to have a baby. She wanted no part of his latest madness.

  She moved the scant foot separating them until she was right up to the bars. He pushed the key into the lock, turned it and then deftly keyed a code in. He pulled the door open and stood in front of her, blocking the way to freedom with his body. He was quite a bit larger than her, taller and wider, his shoulders nearly making two of her.

  She licked her lips, finding it difficult to breathe. "I've never done this," she blurted, half hoping that would drive him off. Who wanted someone totally inexperienced?

  His smile widened. Very gently he wrapped his palm around the nape of her neck and pulled her closer to him. Right up against him. Both hands framed her face and held her still for him. "Do you think that matters to me?"

  She blinked up at him. Up close he was even more dangerous than she'd first thought him. "It should."

  "Why?"

  "Won't you feel cheated when it isn't very good?"

  "Who says it won't be any good?"

  He sounded amused. His amber eyes had gone a really intriguing shade of gold. His thumb swept her cheekbone, sending more heat through her body. Electricity seemed to arc between them. If he felt it, he didn't show it, but she did, the little strikes shocking on her nerve endings.

  "It's bound to be terrible, since I don't know what I'm doing."

  "I know exactly what I'm doing. You're in good hands, baby."

  Now butterflies took wing. Hundreds of them. No, thousands of them. Her stomach did a slow, rolling somersault. She knew he was teasing her, but coming from him it was sensual. Sexy.

  She wanted the kiss from him, but she knew it was far too much for her to handle. She shook her head, her gaze held captive by his. "It's not a good idea."

  His smile reached his eyes, turning the gold molten, so that just looking at him had her breath catching in her throat.

  "It's not an idea, sweetheart, it's a necessity. I must not have explained that very well to you." He bent his head toward hers. Her breath left her lungs in a long, ragged rush. She felt the press of his lips against her forehead. A brush. Then his mouth was on her left eyelid. "Are you going to forgive me?" He kissed her right eyelid.

  She pressed one hand to her stomach, a mass of nerves. The touch of his lips felt . . . exquisite. Perfect. Better than anything she'd imagined. Her brain short-circuited.

  He trailed kisses from her eye to her right cheekbone, following that path so that everywhere his lips touched she felt little darts of fire. "Will you, Bellisia? Will you forgive me?" His voice slid over her skin like a caress and slipped under her guard as it always did.

  She tried to find her voice. Words. Anything to deter him. Kissing her would be the last thing he'd do with her, she was certain of that. She hadn't even read about kissing the way some of the other girls had. There had been one night when a couple of the girls had been clowning around and practiced with each other. They both burst out laughing and made faces. She didn't want Ezekiel Fortunes ever laughing at her.

  His lips slid down from her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth. Barely touched there, but she felt it all the way through her skin to her insides. His tongue traced along the seam of her mouth and then he licked her lips. She gasped. Her hands curled into two tight fists, both bunching his shirt so the material was soft against her palm.

  Everything about him was a contrast. His skin was warm and soft, yet his muscles were so hard he felt like stone. His hands were huge, shaping her face with just his palms, leaving his fingers to move over her skin, teasing behind her ear and over her pounding pulse so gently when he could have crushed her.

  "Baby, you have to say the words to me so I know you mean it. I need your forgiveness. There's no way for me to close my eyes and rest if I don't have that from you. I'll have to stay up all night convincing you I would never hurt you or allow anyone else to harm you."

  He alternated brushing his lips over hers and licking at her lips with the tip of his tongue. His mouth was warm and satin soft, but firm and very persistent. His tongue was hot and damp, teasing her senses until she would have given him anything if she could talk. She nodded her head, because of course she could forgive him. She understood.

  There was relief in knowing he detested Whitney as much as she did. He didn't have to state it. He'd said "bastard." In that tone. That said it all.

  His mouth was gentle on hers, kissing her until she was reeling with the strange, exhilarating feeling. "Say it now, baby, right now. Whisper the words into my mouth so I can keep your forgiveness inside me forever."

  He was the devil tempting her. She couldn't help herself. She wanted to give him the moon. Saying what was already true was no hardship if she could catch her breath. Her lips parted. She drew in a breath. "I forgive you."

  The moment she said the words to him, his mouth was on hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth, exploring, stroking little caresses along her tongue until she thought she might go insane with wanting to kiss him all night. Sensations poured into her body. Crashed through her nerve endings. Awakened things she hadn't known existed inside her.

  He kissed her over and over. Gently. Almost reverently. All the while his hands cupped her face, fingers stroking those amazing caresses behind her ears and into her scalp that only added to the dizziness she was swept up in. Her mouth followed his. Survival skills were something she excelled at. She learned fast, she always had, and kissing was something that suddenly was extremely necessary to her survival.

  When he finally lifted his head, just inches from hers, she chased his mouth, feeling almost bereft without his lips on hers.

  "Sweetheart, if we don't stop, this is going to get out of hand, and that's not a good idea until we know each other better. I don't want you disappearing on me now that I've found you. Let's get into the house."

  He stepped back because right in that moment she was incapable of moving. She touched her lips with shaking fingers. "That was . . ."

  "Perfect," he finished for her. "Perfect for now. I promise to do better when we're where we need to be."

  Reluctantly he let his hand fall from her face, only to trace a finger from her shoulder to her wrist. He picked up her limp, trembling hand and put it in his palm. Her entire hand, fingers and all, fit right there. If it got any better, she wasn't certain she could handle it.

  "You ready to go inside? We only have tonight, Bellisia. Tomorrow morning, I have to be at Stennis at zero six hundred. When I get back, we'll have a great deal more time. I want to convince you not to take off. To throw in with us and help keep Ginger, Thym and Cannelle safe while they grow up."

  A faint smile made its way to her mouth. She felt it under the pads of her fingers. Her lips were still tingling, still feeling him. It felt like a brand on her.

  "You've got to give me something, sweetheart." He threaded his fingers through hers, and then brought their linked hands to his chest. "We good right now?"

  "Ask me." She managed to get the two words out. She doubted she could be much more coherent than that.

  "Ask you what?"

  "For my word." She liked that he was willing to take her word. That he thought she was an honorable person. That he was willing to believe her to the extent he was.

  "Bellisia, will you give me your word of honor that you'll stay with Nonny at the Fontenot compound and help guard the girls, Pepper and Nonny while I'm away?"

  She nodded her head but replied aloud. Solemnly. "Yes. I'll stay."

  "I wasn't finished."

  She lifted her chin, frowning at him. "You weren't?" When he shook his head, she couldn't help being a little wary. "There's more?"

/>   "There's more. And it's important. Maybe the most important part of all."

  She regarded him steadily. "Lay it on me."

  "I need your word of honor that once you hear I'm back, and you will, probably long before you see me, that you won't go off with some new man who has been flirting outrageously with you."

  "Okay. I can do that. I don't think I'm ready to run off with another man."

  "Good. I'd hate to scare you by causing bloodshed to some unknowing male, but there's more. I'm not finished."

  She tried tugging at her hand halfheartedly. She was acutely aware of him and the teasing only intensified her feelings for him. "How can there be more? Obeying your orders. Kissing. Giving my word. Steep price to pay for leaving my very fancy real estate. I had my own private bathroom."

  "Uh. No. That's the bathroom for the laboratory. You'd have to share."

  She rolled her eyes. "What's the rest?"

  "You can't leave when you hear I'm on my way back or even that I am back, not until we have a chance to spend a little time together."

  "You drive a hard bargain. I don't know, I just might have to go back into the cage. You're not my favorite person."

  "You forgave me."

  "I did, but you lost my job for me. I liked waitressing. It had its perks. You know, like being able to actually eat real food."

  "I'll get your job back for you," he promised, his thumb sliding over her jaw in a caress that sent a shiver of acute awareness down her spine. "Or at least find you another one you'll love and where you'll be able to eat real food."

  "How can you do that?"

  "I'm charming when I need to be."

  She believed that. "I don't find you all that charming."

  "You're lying your pretty little ass off, baby."

  "Now I know I'm going back in the cage. You're arrogant on top of everything else."

  He shook his head. "Not arrogant. Confident. You admittedly don't have a lot of experience, so you need a confident man to guide you in these perilous times."

  She arched an eyebrow. "'Perilous times'? 'Confident' man?"

  He nodded solemnly as he took a step toward the door. Her arm was locked to his side, her hand to his chest. He moved slowly, but he definitely took her with him. "I need your word, sweetheart, that you won't run off on me, not before I have a chance to talk you into staying with me after the mission is completed."

  She took a breath. A long one. She felt as if her mind was at war. One side was pure panic, full flight mode. The other side wanted to spend as much time with Ezekiel as possible. She had never played or teased or been teased by a man before. She knew it was much more than that. She was having fun because it was Ezekiel, not some random man. For some unknown reason, she liked being around him.

  "All right. I'll stay until you're back home from your mission," she conceded. "But you'd better be prepared to get my job back for me."

  He grinned down at her, and immediately her heart stuttered in reaction.

  "Nonny knows everyone. I get Nonny on my side, you'll have your job back." He eased her toward the door.

  "Isn't that cheating?"

  Bellisia realized she was hanging back, reluctant to go with him. This was her chance to meet Nonny and the three little girls. She could meet their mother. It would be the opportunity of a lifetime to be able to question them without any of the men present. Why was she so hesitant to go with him into the house?

  "What's wrong, sweetheart? No one in that house will hurt you. The children are highly intelligent and very sweet. It will be fun for you."

  She tried to analyze exactly what was wrong and came up with the reason she was dragging her feet. "I don't know the first thing about talking to children. I've never had a grandmother or even really talked to someone I . . ." She trailed off. How to explain her feelings about Nonny? She didn't have the words.

  "Someone you admire? I understand completely. The first time I ever saw Nonny, she was sitting on her front porch in her rocking chair. She had a shotgun close to one hand and a pipe in the other. She didn't ask us questions, she just accepted us because we were Wyatt's friends. Wyatt is one of her grandsons and he'd brought us back with him. I have two brothers, Malichai and Mordichai. They've never known a lot of love in their lives. They're good men, but sometimes a little rough around the edges."

  "Like you."

  "No, babe, not like me." He shook his head as he pulled the door open and drew her through into the night. "They're good men," he reiterated.

  She could hear the soothing sound of the river lapping at the pier. At the bank. She turned her head toward the sound. In spite of the darkness, to her, the water was shiny, radiating a brilliance that beckoned to her. She loved the sound of water, even needed it, but his tone overrode the continual pull of the water on her body.

  "Ezekiel, you're a good man. I've seen you with the triplets, and you were unbelievably gentle."

  "Don't." His voice was low. A whip. "Don't see me as something I'm not. Growing up, I didn't have time to learn the nicer things. How to be polite and civilized. I grew up fighting for every scrap of food I could get for my brothers. You have no idea what I'm like inside. What I've done or am willing to do for my family."

  She took a step and turned so she blocked his path to the house. All the while a part of her felt the pull of the water. The droplets in the air no one else ever felt, cool on her skin. Her skin felt dry and tight, stretched over her muscles, aching and even painful in spots, but even with that, the call of the water wasn't stronger than her need to get him to see himself the way she saw him.

  "I never learned the niceties either, Ezekiel. And I don't have a family to fight for, but if I did, there wouldn't be much I wouldn't do for them."

  "I'm ruthless. Brutal, even."

  "I saw that when you stopped me from escaping. I felt hurt and betrayed and angry at you."

  "You didn't inject me with venom and you could have any number of times. You didn't inject any of the others either." There was a question in his tone.

  She shrugged. "I hadn't fully made up my mind about you or your team members. I didn't know for certain if you were working with Whitney or not."

  "You believed it. I saw it on your face and you still didn't kill me when you had the chance."

  She glared at him. "I'm trying to say something here. You're a good man whether or not you believe it. You had good motivation for stopping my escape. Saving hostages comes before hurt feelings."

  He swept his thumb along her lips, tracing the bow. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Bellisia."

  "What the fuck are you doing, Ezekiel?" Gino's voice came out of the night. He strode toward them, his eyes glowing like that of a predatory cat. Every step betrayed his anger. "She goes back in that cell right now."

  Bellisia's first thought was to make a run for it. Her body coiled tight in preparation, yet appeared relaxed. One strong jerk should break Ezekiel's hold on her. Everyone underestimated her strength. She would sprint for the water and be gone.

  Ezekiel transferred her from his right side to his left, even closer to the water, but away from Gino. He tucked her beneath his shoulder, his entire demeanor protective.

  Behind Gino came Mordichai, Draden and Rubin, all looking grim.

  8

  Bellisia found herself noting every single detail around her. A slight breeze stirred, came off the river and rushed the house. It swirled on the front porch and then moved on as if playing. A fish jumped not more than two feet from the pier. There were rustlings at the edges of the swamp as if mice scurried there. The scent of anger mixed with concern, with worry. The clouds rolling over her head and the layer of dirt under her feet.

  Mostly it was Ezekiel who penetrated her defenses. Heat poured off of him. She glanced up at his face and his features were impassive, but she felt the coiling tension building in him, power so strong it was frightening. His hand, holding her close to him, was gentle. He drew her beneath his shoulder protectively.

  Tha
t gesture nearly stopped her heart. No one in her entire life had ever offered her protection. Not once. Not even when she was a child. She'd seen the way Ezekiel held the triplets, so gently, his entire demeanor one of steadfast protection, and right then, in that perfect moment, he'd done the same for her--only far more intimately.

  The way he held her to him was definitely all about her being a woman and him being a man. She knew he had a protective instinct, she'd seen it many times watching him with the girls, Nonny, Pepper and even his teammates. But this was different. This was solely about her and his willingness to stand between her and the people he clearly loved. That was huge. That took her breath away and drove out every thought of escape. If he could put his career and his relationships on the line for her, then she owed it to him--and to herself--not to leap into the water.

  This was a moment in time she would never forget. She wanted it etched into her very skin and branded in her bones. She never forgot something once she saw it, and she knew this would always be her favorite and most important memory.

  "She's coming with me to the house. She's no threat to anyone in that house, or to the mission."

  Gino swore aloud, his fierce tone, although low, making Bellisia wince. The others surrounded them.

  "Zeke, even if she's pure as driven snow, word gets out, you know they'll call things off. If they know you were hurt, they'll call them off. You have to be able to stand in front of the colonel, look him in the eye and tell him you're physically fit for duty and there's no threat whatsoever to any man going on that mission." Draden stepped closer. "You can't say either with absolute certainty."

  "That's bullshit. Step back, all of you."

  Energy crackled around them. Power was amassing in Ezekiel, and coming off him in waves. She doubted if he would be able to contain it much longer. Taking a deep breath, she stepped in front of him, her free hand going to his chest, a slim hope that she could stop him before something terrible happened.

  "They're right, Ezekiel. As much as I hate to admit it, they're right. The most important thing right now is the hostages. I can sit in a cage for a few days while you get it done. We can sort things out later." She couldn't believe she was making the offer. She'd been in a cell of one kind or another, a prisoner of Whitney's, and it was the last thing she wanted. Ever.