Spider Game

by Christine Feehan

  "So would I," she admitted quietly.

  Trap searched her green eyes until he saw the truth there and he believed her. He pressed his face against her hair, burrowed into it so the silk concealed his expression. She faced away from him, but he was confessing and he didn't take chances. "His brothers threw gas on him and all around the room. They lit it on fire and got out. I crawled through the flames and lived."

  "The scars on your feet and ankles."

  She'd kissed them too. Her hands had been gentle, soothing. Amazing. She'd nearly torn out his heart when she'd done that.

  "I went to live with my aunt. She wasn't very old, but she took me in. It was just the two of us. I began making money because I invented shit and got the patents and then sold them. We lived well for a while. Apart from everyone else, but well. We changed our name and hid in a city. They--my uncles--found us. Kidnapped her. Tortured and raped her. Threw her on my doorstep after I paid the ransom. She was dead."

  Cayenne's body jerked. Hard. She made a sound low in her throat.

  "I hired the best detectives to look for them, but they're in the wind. I did everything I could to hone myself into something that could take them down, but I've never been able to find them. They said, if I found a woman, they'd come after her and they'd take her away from me and do the same to her--that I couldn't protect her."

  "That's why you hid my face from the camera."

  "Yes." He was honest. "Eventually, someone is going to get a shot of you, but I want to minimize that risk. I'll surround you with bodyguards, baby, but they'll eventually come at us. I waited to claim you, tried to talk myself out of it to protect you, but I'm too fucking weak to give you up."

  "Trap." Her voice was gentle. "I want them to come after me. I'm not defenseless and there's no way they could hurt me without getting close. They get close and they're dead. We both know that. I have no problem making certain they can't do that to another woman. I'm the kind of woman who would have put a bullet in your father, one that made him suffer for as long as possible. That's who I am."

  Again, her voice rang with honesty. She meant every word. There was no fear. None whatsoever. Just determination.

  "Cayenne." He whispered her name, closing his eyes against the burn there. "You know what I'm telling you, right? What to expect when you're with me."

  "Did you think I'd run, Trap?" she asked gently. "I might not know the first thing about relationships or cooking or having friends, but I know how to defend myself and I have no problems seeing beyond smiling faces. I could always tell the worst of my tormentors before they ever opened their mouths. I feel it like an oil surrounding them. The more vicious and cruel they are, the thicker the oil. Your uncles could walk up to me with halos on their heads and I'd know what they were."

  "I don't like putting you in this position, Cayenne, but I can't give you up." He made the admission softly. "I want to put a ring on your finger and make it official. The moment I do that, the moment the world knows you're mine, wherever they are, they'll come out of the woodwork and make their try."

  "Good. We'll be ready for them. And don't forget, Trap, while you're taking on all this guilt because of two men who have no idea who you are anymore or what you're capable of, I've got a death sentence on my head. Whitney will keep sending teams after me, which means, you'll be in harm's way because of me."

  "I think I can get that particular order rescinded," Trap said. His finger stroked the hourglass again. She wasn't going to like the how of it, but he didn't feel the least remorseful. He wanted those ties to him. She had her silken threads, he had human ones.

  She turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder. "What does that mean, Trap? Exactly what does that mean?"

  He fucking loved that she was intelligent enough to be suspicious. She knew whatever plan he had, she wasn't necessarily going to be down for, although he'd kept his tone strictly neutral.

  "Whitney likes to pair his soldiers. He gives the pair the skills to be an effective unit in a combat situation."

  He spread his fingers wide again, covering her tummy, feeling the underside of her breasts with his fingertips. He stroked caresses along the twin curves. "I've never felt softer skin in my life, baby. I fucking love the way you feel."

  "Trap, don't change the subject. I'm not going to be distracted."

  "Is that a challenge?" A teasing note crept into his voice.

  He had learned fun from Wyatt. He'd been sober, incapable of laughter, when he'd first met Wyatt. Then the members of his team, no matter how aloof he held himself, gave him a bad time. He'd learned to handle that as well. Maybe all that had prepared him for a life with Cayenne. All he knew for certain was that he enjoyed teasing her. He let the pads of his fingers swirl up and over her breast to brush the tips, those beautiful rosy tips that were so very sensitive.

  She shivered and her hand came over the top of his, clamping him to her, right over her breast so the hard little peak pushed into the center of his palm. "Behave yourself and tell me what your plan is to get my termination order rescinded."

  He liked her bossy. He liked her submissive. He liked every single thing about her. Especially that she could be lethal.

  "I'm going to get you pregnant."

  She went very still at his confession.

  He moved his hand back down to cover her soft little tummy, ignoring her body language, talking his way right through it. "He's going to grow right here. Our child. He'll be smart, and we'll both give him all the love and happiness in the world. He'll have everything neither of us ever had."

  "Trap."

  Her voice was as still as her body. He actually felt her withdrawing from him, pulling her body into the fetal position, moving a slight inch from him, but he felt the loss. She couldn't separate herself any farther because he held her to him.

  "Don't," he cautioned. "I mean it, Cayenne. Don't pull away from me. You know that's the only solution."

  "We can't have a child so Whitney will leave me alone."

  "Baby, think about this logically. He'll keep coming at us. We might fight off fifty teams, but eventually, they'll penetrate our defenses and possibly get you. Or me. Or one of the members of my team. More than anything else, Whitney is looking for the next generation. He wants to see if the enhancements he gave us will be stronger in our children."

  "My child won't ever be an experiment." There was outrage in her voice. Temper. Her body had gone stiff. He knew she would have scooted off the bed if she could have. "Not to save my life, or yours or anybody else's."

  "Our child will never be used as an experiment, Cayenne. I can give you my word on that."

  "I won't have a baby to save my life. That's no reason to bring a child into the world."

  "Baby." He whispered the endearment softly. A reprimand. Very gently he forced her to turn over. "Look at me."

  "I am looking at you."

  "You're looking at my chin. I mean look into my eyes. Listen to me. You know me better than that."

  He waited until she reluctantly lifted her gaze to his. There was fear there. Stark fear, pushing toward terror. His heart contracted. She was unafraid to face hit squads sent after her, or his two murderous uncles, but the thought of having a child filled her with anxiety.

  He kept his voice soft. "You know me. You know what I am inside. I gave you the truth about myself and my childhood. Our child would be conceived in love. Love, Cayenne. I want a family. Children. I know that scares you, but we're both smart. We can figure it out. We've both got good instincts. We have Wyatt and the boys and Nonny and Pepper to help us out if we decide we hit a stumbling block and don't know how to handle something."

  Her gaze drifted over his face. She held her breath and didn't seem to notice. He did. He noticed everything about her. Every. Single. Thing.

  "Breathe, baby."

  She pressed her hand to her stomach and shook her head. "You should have talked to me about this. I'm just trying to get used to the idea of you and me."
/>   "I know," he said quietly.

  "This is a huge thing, Trap. You can't make decisions like this for both of us."

  "I know," he agreed.

  She narrowed her eyes. "Stop saying that. It doesn't mean anything. I do know you, and that is your arrogant, bossy, macho bullshit."

  "It's not arrogance, Cayenne. Or macho. Or bullshit. I calculate everything. I can't help that about myself. My brain works on a problem and I find solutions. We need a solution to keep hit squads from coming at us every minute of the day for the rest of our lives. I need to keep you safe. I need that. You don't have to agree with me on this. You don't. It's my need, not yours. You're willing to take the risk, I'm not."

  "Do you hear yourself?" She was outraged. She sat up, drawing her knees to her and holding on to her legs as tight as possible.

  He sat up much more slowly, sliding back until he hit the headboard. He was relaxed. Watchful. Alert. But relaxed. He wasn't wrong. He'd gone through every single possible solution, and there was no other. Whether or not she stayed with him, Whitney would keep sending his supersoldiers after her. Eventually there would be a mistake on her part--on their part--and she'd be dead. That was unacceptable to him.

  He wanted a child with her. He wanted more than one. He wanted several. They had a big home. A huge one. They had an entire team to help protect children. It was the only solution, and it was logical whether she wanted to admit it or not.

  He reached for her and pulled her gently between his legs. She didn't unfold, or soften, but remained stiff, curled into herself. She seemed smaller than ever, a gift she had that helped her to disappear. She wasn't going to get that chance.

  "I know having children scares you . . ."

  "Trap, you scare me. This scares me. Us. A relationship. A commitment. You at least know what a family is supposed to be. You've lived in the world. You may have had a bastard for a father, but you had a mother and sisters and a brother. You had an aunt and Wyatt and Nonny. I had a tiny cell, my silks for privacy. I had techs darting me through bars so I couldn't hurt them."

  She lifted her hands to show him her palms. "I had pins pushed through my hands, shoulders and ankles to hold me in place. I have scars on my ribs and feet as well as my palms. They studied me, took my blood, milked my venom. Tried to extract the silks. I've been shot, knifed and pitted against numerous supersoldiers all in the name of science. I don't know how to be what you want me to be, but I was willing to try . . ."

  "Don't say was, Cayenne. We've hit a fucking bump, not the end. I know how you lived. Do you think I don't know? I am a scientist. I know exactly what those fuckwads did to you, baby. I'm going to erase it all. I am." He reached around her and caught her wrists, pulling her hands back to him, palms up so he could brush kisses into them. "We have time to get you pregnant and that gives us time to prepare for an actual baby. Time to get to be us. To learn the things we don't know."

  She shook her head. "You're asking too much."

  "No, I'm not," he said. "I'll never ask too much of you. You've been guarding Wyatt's girls. You came back and entered a fight with supersoldiers in order to keep them from being taken. You want children, Cayenne, same as me. You want a family. With me."

  "Someday. This is going too fast. Way too fast."

  "Four fucking months, baby, is not too fast. Not when I've had shit for years and you've had it all your life. Those days are over. We're going to look ahead, build us a family, and we're going to have the fucking ever after."

  He pulled her onto his lap, his arms surrounding her. "I hear that you're scared. But I don't hear you saying you don't want my child growing in you. It doesn't matter when we have a child. Now or ten years from now, you're going to want that baby the moment you find out you're pregnant. You know you will."

  She leaned back against his chest, turning a little more to rest her head against him, the first sign that he might be getting somewhere. He kept persisting.

  "Cayenne, I want my child in you. Not just because it will keep Whitney from coming after you, but because once I realized that was the solution to our problem, the idea took hold and I found I wanted a child with you more than anything. I don't care if it's a girl or boy, only that it's ours and healthy."

  She was silent for a long time. He waited. He was patient. He had methodically thought of and discarded a hundred ideas when the solution had presented itself to him. He'd been shocked. If he was truthful, even a little afraid. He'd never held a baby, but the thought of his child growing in Cayenne made him soft inside. He came to like the idea. Then want it.

  "You don't have a child because of Whitney," she said, clinging to her stubborn. Her tone wasn't quite as combative. Her body had gone soft again, sinking into his skin, melting so the silk of her slid along his chest and belly. He instantly felt the answering need in his cock. He allowed it to happen. To build in him. She felt the growing erection against her bare bottom but she didn't shift away from him.

  "No, we don't," Trap said quietly. "We have a child because it completes us. Because we love each other that much. If, when that happens, it makes Whitney back off, all to the good, but our child will be loved and wanted because he or she is ours."

  She was quiet. He let his hands roam. Cupping her breasts. Thumbs sliding over her hard little nipples. He felt the answering heat rushing through her body. Silken skin melted more into him.

  "I want you all over again, Cayenne."

  She tilted her head to look at him. "I want you too, Trap, but you scare me so much sometimes. I don't want to get lost because I feel such emotion for you, and I want to please you. I want to give you everything you've never had."

  He caught the cloud of dark hair in his hand and tilted her head back even more. "There is nothing I wouldn't do for you, Cayenne. Nothing I wouldn't give you if you asked me for it. I want to give you everything you've never had--especially a family. I need you alive for that. I need you lying beside me every fucking night. I need to wake up to you in order to give you the world. I know that sounds selfish and, baby, I feel selfish when it comes to you. You've trusted me with you this far. Come all the way with me. All the way."

  She took a breath, and her vibrant green gaze moved over his face, taking him in. "Then okay. We'll do this. Together. But don't make any more decisions no matter how logical they are if they involve me, without consulting me first."

  "Babe." His voice said it all. He was that kind of man. He knew it. She knew it.

  Her breath hissed out of her. "Fine, but expect my temper when you do, Trap. It isn't going to be pretty."

  "I know." And he did.

  She pushed out of his lap and turned her head to lick up his chest, tracing heavy muscle. "This time, you'd better give me what I want and not go all commando on me and tell me I'm done. I'll be done when I want to be done. Got that?"

  He got it. He was more than happy to give himself up to her very talented mouth. She'd given in to him and she could have any damn thing she wanted--especially his cock.

  CHAPTER 15

  Cayenne's heart beat a million miles an hour as she stepped onto the pier that was close to Wyatt's home. The last two weeks had been amazing. Trap spent most of the time in the laboratory. Wyatt came to work with him often, nearly every day. At first Cayenne had made herself scarce when he came over, but then she decided she needed to get used to being around someone besides Trap and she joined the two men in the laboratory.

  Trap hadn't pushed her at all to do anything, but she could tell he was pleased that she'd made the effort. She found herself liking Wyatt. He had an easy charm, enabling her to relax in his presence. Still, she liked it best when she was alone with Trap.

  Trap really liked sex. All the time. She did as well, so it was nice to know she wasn't alone in her needs. He was inventive and bossy but so was she. They worked together, and she had to admit, she was comfortable in their strange relationship. She spent most of her time trying to learn things that would make their huge house really a home. She wa
nted to do that for Trap. Watching various programs on the Internet helped, but even with numerous cooking shows to aid her, she had a miserable time learning to cook.

  Baby, you have to stop looking like you're going to your doom.

  There was humor in Trap's voice. Affection. Warmth. She wrapped herself in the way he felt for her, using it as armor as they approached the house. Trap took her hand and pulled her close, into his body, her front to his side, and then his arm swept around her, clamping her to him. She had no choice but to curl her fingers into his tight tee--the one that stretched valiantly across a wealth of muscle.

  Do I look like that?

  Yes, and it's adorable. So much so that if you keep it up, I'm going to carry you into the swamp and do you right there, just a few feet from the house.

  Her nipples went hard and she glanced speculatively at the swamp creeping close to the Fontenot compound. She felt the rush of liquid heat between her legs the way she did whenever Trap used that voice. She loved his voice.

  He halted abruptly. You're thinking about it, aren't you? You'd let me.

  She was surprised. She'd never turned him down. Not once. He'd never turned her down. Ever. Of course I would. Did you think I wouldn't? In any case, sex with Trap was a far better option than being around people she didn't know. In fact, maybe it was the perfect time for seduction.

  I love having you inside me. I love my mouth on you, the taste of you, the feel of you. Why wouldn't I go into the swamp with you? You could pick me up, I'll wrap my legs around your waist and you'll be inside me. What's not to love about that?

  His arm tightened and he dipped his face low, toward hers. Are you ready for me? Wet? Dripping my honey for me?

  She nodded, watching his expression closely. Trap didn't give much away unless it came to sex. Then pure sensuality was carved into every line of his very masculine features. His glacier eyes flamed blue and became hooded and sexy. Like now. Her heart beat harder, her mouth went dry and deep inside she felt a spasm.