Ghostwalker 04 - Conspiracy Game

face. “He thinks I’m making a jackass of myself.”
    “He’s right.”
    “I know. I know it’s too soon, Briony. There’s no way you could fall in love with me this fast, but I know how I feel about you. It has nothing to do with Whitney or pheromones or experiments. When I’m with you, I feel different—alive—happy—hell, even peaceful—
    even though you argue half the time.”
    “I don’t argue.”
    He smiled at her, his free hand sliding down her throat in a gentle caress to trace the swell of her breasts. “You make me happy, Briony. It doesn’t seem to matter where we are or what kind of hell we’re walking into, when I’m with you, there’s something inside of me that lights up. Tell me why you don’t want to marry me.”

    Briony stared up at his face, so masculine—rough and weathered, with lines etched deep; his gray eyes that could ice up or go hot like the sun. He wasn’t a man who smiled often, but he was a man who took care of his own. She traced those lines with her fingertips.
    Emotion swept over her, shaking her, setting her pulse racing and her stomach fluttering. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to marry you, Jack Norton, only that you hadn’t asked me properly.”
    The look on her face—in her eyes—set his heart pounding. No one had ever looked at him like that before. He could wake up to that look every morning. He shifted his weight again so he could frame her face with his hands, wincing a little as his thigh connected with the groundsheet. “You ever heard of a book on this crap, because I’m going to need something.”
    Briony groaned and rolled onto her back, laughing helplessly. “You’re hopeless, Jack.
    Hopeless.”
    “I love you, woman. What more is there to say?” Her laughter affected him more than he thought possible. To keep the overwhelming emotion at bay, he bent his head to hers and took possession of her mouth—a little desperately, a little wildly—mostly lovingly.

    CHAPTER 19

    Briony circled Jack’s neck with her arms and closed her eyes, opening her mouth to his, matching the fire in his kiss with her own. He had calluses on his hands and smelled of guns. She liked the roughness against her skin and knew that, no matter the danger, he would protect her and her children.
    “You make me feel safe when you hold me, Jack,” Briony confided. “I’ve always been so afraid, but even now, surrounded by our enemies, you make me feel safe.” She murmured the words against the warmth of his mouth, kissed his chin and the small crow’s feet around his eyes—not laugh lines, but from squinting in the sun. Grateful that Ken was on guard duty and had left them alone to sleep while waiting for nightfall, she was determined to take advantage of her opportunity alone with Jack.
    Jack kissed the tip of her nose, the corners of her mouth, the small indentation in her chin. It seemed an impossibility to be lying there in the Montana grass, in the place he loved, and hold this one woman. And she kept looking at him with love in her eyes.
    Genuine love.
    “You’re a fucking miracle, Briony.” He kissed her again, and slid his hands down to her stomach, pushing up the material of her blouse so he could cover bare skin with his palm. “I want to feel them move inside of you. A part of you and a part of me. I never imagined having kids or even having a woman of my own. Now that you’re here with me, I can’t imagine life without you.”
    She closed her eyes to savor the feel of his hands caressing her stomach. For one moment she thought she felt the flutter of a baby moving inside her, but the movement was so small and brief, she might have imagined it. “Don’t say fucking, Jack.” The truth was that, in spite of herself, she was becoming fond of that term when he said the things he said about her. “You have to clean up your language for the babies. But just in case you don’t know it, I think you’re a miracle too. I love you.”
    He went still—utterly and completely still. Even his breath ceased in his lungs. He waited until she opened her eyes and looked at him. “Don’t say that unless you mean it, Briony. I don’t want there to be any mistakes.”
    “There’s no mistake. I love you more than anything. I’m happy I’m carrying your children. I love being with you.”
    “It’s remote up here and the road is impassable some of the time. We get snow. You could get lonely.”

    “I love where you live and the house and all of