Ghostwalker 03 - Night Game

he frowned. She knew she looked bad. There was no way to hide the bruises from him. They were everywhere, large black and blue patches that looked hideous. She ducked her head. “It looks worse than it really is.”

    Gator stepped into the room and skimmed his fingertips over the outline of the dark bruise riding the swell of her breast. His touch was light, barely there, but her womb clenched and her stomach muscles contracted in response.

    “Does it hurt?”

    His gaze roamed her face, his eyes dark with emotion. She stroked the hard edge of his jaw. “I’m all right. Raoul. You can’t look at me like that.”

    He caught her hand, pressed her palm against his mouth. “I don’ know if my heart can take you getting hurt anymore, Flame.”

    No one had ever looked at her like that and she didn’t know if her heart could take it. Her chest actually ached. “Im not hurt,” she tried to reassure him. “Even my arm's feeling better.” She managed a smile. “I’m a tough chick.”

    “You’re something.” He drew her out of the bathroom.

    The house smelled of the fresh baked bread, fried chicken, and pecan pie his grandmother had sent home with them. He hadn’t bothered with the lights, but had scattered candles all over so that the room seemed to glow. The small rustic cabin suddenly seemed more than a trapper’s cabin. It was intimate and comfortable and all too homey.

    She rubbed her temples, pressing deep with her fingers. He was killing her, offering her things already out of her reach. She wanted to weep for both of them, but instead she let him seat her in the chair across from his. If she was what he really wanted, knowing she didn’t have very long, she was going to accept the gift given to her and hang on tight to him with both hands.

    “You’re so lucky to have your grandmother, Raoul. She’s incredible.” She picked up her fork as he dished the food onto her plate. “She was so sweet to send a care package with us.”

    “When she’s nervous, or upset, Grand-mere cooks. When I was a boy I used to smell the food long before I ever reached our cabin. We always had plenty of food.” He gestured toward all the candles. “I told her I wanted soft lights and a relaxing, soothing atmosphere for you and she gathered every candle she’d made with the right scent.”

    “For me?” Flame looked around her, awed by the trouble he’d gone to. “You did all this for me?”

    He grinned at her. “Well, you didn’t think I normally lit candles all over the house, did you? I only do it for you. This is used mostly as a hunting cabin now. We fish and trap and drink a lot of beer in here, but this is the first time I’ve ever done this.”

    “Your grandmother didn’t happen to send another shopping bag filled with strange items, did she?” Flame asked suspiciously.

    “No, cher . I was tempted to ask her, but if she wasn’t the one to buy us those toys then I’d have to explain it all and I’m not talking to Nonny about vibrating eggs.”

    Flame nearly choked on her food. The towel slipped and she had to reknot it to keep it in place. Her hands trembled. Just the thought of being alone with Raoul was enough to make her happy, and that was frightening. He made her laugh with his outrageous comments. The old hunting cabin he used for fishing and trapping felt like a home with the candles and the food and Raoul sitting across from her. “You just were very lucky growing up with Nonny as your grandmother. How old were you when you went to live with her?”

    He shrugged. “About seven I guess, although we stayed with her more often than not before that. Our family was very close so if we weren’t at one house, we were at the other, or sometimes we all lived together.”

    “You enjoyed your childhood, didn’t you?”

    He ducked his head, suddenly all too aware of the differences in their lives.

    “You goof.” There was affection in her voice. “I like hearing stories of your childhood or I wouldn’t ask. I think your grandmother is one of the most awesome people I’ve ever met. She really cares, not only about you and your brothers, but her neighbors and friends. Did you see her face when Joy’s parents saw Joy alive?” She wailed, her eyes lighting up. “It was beautiful. She’s genuine, Raoul. Completely genuine.”

    He reached across the small table to take her hand. “I don’t know how you turned out to be so wonderful with your background, but you