Ghostwalker 04 - Conspiracy Game

pride in Ken’s voice.
    Jack flicked a repressing glance at him and then caught the expression on Briony’s transparent face. She looked at him almost as if the sun rose and set with him. Her expression turned his insides out and made him uncomfortable. She was getting the wrong idea about him. Part of him loved it and part of him—the sane part—hated it. And damn him to hell, there were the beginnings of love in her eyes. Between Ken and Briony he felt like a fraud. They were killing him with their belief in him.

    He rose abruptly, nearly knocking the chair over, shoved it out of his way, and caught her chin in his hand. He hadn’t intended to touch her, or even acknowledge her, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Stay close to the house,” he warned gruffly and bent to brush her mouth with his.
    Heat flared instantly, the moment his lips feathered against the soft curve of hers. His hand slipped to the nape of her neck, tilting her head for a better angle, so his tongue could delve deep, teasing, stroking, exploring her incredible mouth. He pulled away abruptly—
    self-preservation required it—and pressed his brow to hers, breathing deep. “You remember one thing. You decide you want to get married, it’s going to be to me.”
    Briony watched him stalk outside, slamming the kitchen door behind him. Both eyebrows raised, she turned to Ken.
    “Close your mouth, honey. That’s Jack trying to be romantic and failing miserably.
    Don’t let him get away with that shit either. If he’s going to ask you, make him do it all the way. You know—down on one knee, looking stupid.”
    Briony nearly choked. “That’s just mean, Ken.”
    He leaned close to her. “If you do it, Briony, tell me first so I can videotape it. I could blackmail him for the rest of his life.”
    “He would never get on his knees for anyone,” she pointed out, gathering dishes and taking them to the sink. “It would never happen.”
    “You could just be wrong, Miss Jenkins.” Ken pushed back his chair and caught up his hat. “I think, for you, he’d do just about anything.”
    Briony watched him saunter out the back door and walk along the path toward the shop, taking the same direction Jack had. She took a deep breath and turned around, surveying the large kitchen with its wood floor and large beams. It was beautiful to her—the wide open spaces. It looked—and felt—like a home to her.
    She glanced back to the window, her gaze searching for Jack. “Why do I feel so strongly about you? Why do I feel like I know you better than you know yourself?”
    She set the dishes in the sink and wandered through the house, exploring the various rooms. It was obvious to her that the two men had planned each section of the house carefully. Ken’s style was distinctly different from Jack’s—yet there were touches here and there that reminded her of his twin. He liked Western motifs and music, yet he had a gun cabinet beside his bed and another in his office—just as Jack did. Jack had shelves of books everywhere.
    Briony retrieved the pregnancy book and carried it into his office. She stood in the doorway frowning. The office was finished, walls in place, a beautiful one-of-a-kind desk that she suspected Jack had built, piles of papers, and a box containing a brand-new computer. Beside the box was another carton containing paper, but it was open and there was a column as long as or longer than her arm of paper spread across the desk and onto the floor. She went closer to examine the handwritten notes.
    Two separate masculine scrawls, one stating in very crude terms that Ken could shove the computer somewhere impossible to shove and Jack wasn’t opening the thing. Ken answered with a long dissertation about computers being a necessity in their new business venture and Jack could just come out of his cave and quit bellyaching. The rest of the notes were a daily ongoing argument about who would get the computer up and running. Ken was adamant that it was Jack’s job since he was going to have deal with all the actual people, and Jack stated that he absolutely wasn’t touching the machine under any circumstances.
    Briony took the computer out of the box and found that it was a fairly decent model, one that certainly could be used for the type of business Ken wanted to try. She spent the next hour putting it together and hooking up the various cables and connectors, along with backup batteries and surge protectors and finally the