Ghostwalker 04 - Conspiracy Game

few would ever find and fewer would dare to enter.
    “The road goes out in the winter, but we have snowmobiles.”
    “What do you use for heat?”
    “Wood. There’s plenty of it.”
    “I especially love the verandah. I’ve always loved covered wraparound decks, and yours is perfect.” Briony touched the railing and stepped up onto the porch. She did love the house, but now that she was about to enter, her heart was beating too wildly. It took all of her courage to flash a tentative smile and act as if she entered strange men’s homes in nothing but a shirt every day of the week. “Funny, with all the warnings about you, Jack, you have more of a home than most people do. And it surprises me. This is beautiful.”
    “It’s very isolated. Most women wouldn’t like it up here.”
    Briony shrugged. “Most women can be around people without any problems. Me, I like solitude. And I’ve never had the chance to be in the mountains like this. It’s especially beautiful at night.”
    “Tomorrow, I’m going to show you any alarms or booby traps on the property so if you’re out walking, you won’t get in trouble.”
    She rolled her eyes. “Can we just say paranoia?”

    “I prefer to use the term prepared .”
    He led her through the kitchen. She glimpsed a stove and refrigerator, but little else as he hurried her through the house, down a wide hall to push a door open and step back for her to enter.
    His scent was everywhere. She glanced back at him, hesitating. Her womb clenched, and she could feel the slow heat moving through her body. “Your bedroom?”
    Jack drew in his breath. This was going to be a hell of a lot harder on both of them than he’d first thought. “Where else? I’ll get you something to sleep in and something to wear tomorrow morning.” He crossed to the dresser and pulled out a pair of drawstring pants.
    He’d never worn them. Ken had been trying to dress him for years, but so far Jack had resisted, preferring his jeans and camouflage clothes. “Are you hungry? I can whip something up for you.”
    “I’m just really tired, Jack. I’d like to take a shower if you don’t mind, and just go to bed.” Because she couldn’t face him anymore. Looking at him hurt. And her body was out of control. She was ashamed of her lack of control. More than anything, she wanted to be alone where she could pull the covers over her head and cry her eyes out where no one could see—or hear.
    Jack opened the door to his private bathroom. Her scent was already mingling with his.
    Once she was in his bathroom, he would have no respite from her—and he didn’t care. She had her plan to keep him at a distance. He wasn’t going to let that happen. Briony Jenkins was going to have to learn to live with him. It wouldn’t be easy for her, but there was no alternative, and he wasn’t going to allow her to back away from what was so obviously between them.

    CHAPTER 11

    Briony curled up into a tight little ball in Jack’s big bed. She could smell his masculine scent everywhere. The hot shower had taken some of the stiffness from her body, but the dread inside of her grew until her heart seemed to be in her throat choking her. She couldn’t get away from him. She drew him into her body with every breath she took. It might have been okay if it had just been her body betraying her, but her emotions felt raw and she couldn’t stop thinking about how gentle his hands were when he touched her.
    She would not get caught in that trap again. It wasn’t real—it would never be real. Jack had made his feelings clear and she had to respect that. He was a man who, in spite of his roughness, treated women gently, and she was simply more susceptible because her hormones were running wild. Emotional and sexual at the same time. It was a difficult combination to cope with.
    If you came to challenge me to a duel because I fucked your sister, Jebediah, you’re a hell of a lot stupider than I gave you credit for . Briony felt her cheeks grow hot remembering Jack’s accusation. Damn it all. She’d already fallen into his seductive trap. He just looked at her, touched her, and she practically threw herself into his arms. What was wrong with her? Didn’t she have any pride? How was she ever going to be able to stay in his home—his bedroom—with the scent of him driving her into some kind of mindless heat?
    She sighed, flung off the covers, and padded barefoot to the window to shove it open and lean out to