Ghostwalker 06 - Predatory Game

handling.
    What the hell was wrong with him? He knew she was afraid. The furthest thing from her mind was any sort of commitment.
    He struggled for control, forced a note of amusement into his voice. “Sure we can, honey.” He pulled himself into his chair with the ease of long practice. “It’s the perfect night for it. You’re a woman, I’m a man. Those little twinkling things overhead are stars. I believe it’s referred to as romance.”
    Saber sat a few feet from him, arms across her chest. She was fighting just to breathe normally and there was Jesse, laughing at her inexperienced reaction. She had an uncharacteristic urge to slap his handsome face. Patsy was right. He was a cad. Her body was crying out for his, uncomfortably not her own, and he was calmly gathering everything up, ignoring her obvious distress. She sure as hell wasn’t perfect Chaleen whom he had perfect sex with.

    Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    Jess watched Saber rake an unsteady hand through her hair and bite at her full lower lip. In the moonlight she looked wildly erotic, impossibly sexy. He had to look away, his jeans so tight they hurt, his body actually trembling.
    “I think talking about Chaleen darling and her perfect sex put ideas in your head,” Saber grumbled.
    “Either that or Patsy, with all her talk of bimbos.”
    “You hardly qualify,” he said dryly.
    Saber tested her legs, standing up to gather the picnic supplies into the basket. Her blue eyes flashed purple sparks at him. “Is that an insult, Jesse? Because if it is, you can take the big slide.”
    He laughed softly, the sound inviting. “You have such a way with words. Here, I’ll carry that,” he said as she took the basket from his lap. It looked nearly as large as she was.
    “Don’t start with the short jokes,” she cautioned. “I’m not in the mood.”
    He followed her, keeping up easily with a single thrust of his powerful arms. “You mean like: Hey! I’m sitting down and I still have a couple of inches on you.”
    She stopped so abruptly he ran right into her, catching her waist, laughing at her squeal of outrage as he pulled her down onto his lap. “What’s wrong, Saber, does it hit too close to home for comfort?”
    Saber circled his neck with her arm. “Oh, shut up,” she snapped, but he could hear the answering laughter in her voice.
    She couldn’t help but admire the easy way he maneuvered the chair over rough terrain with her added weight and the awkward load of blankets and picnic basket. They were both laughing when they reached the van. But by the time they were home, Jess was quiet, thoughtful, almost remote.
    Saber tried desperately to push away the feel of his mouth, his hands, as she dressed for work. It was a good thing she wasn’t trying to go to bed. There would be no such thing as sleep.

    Elation, euphoria poured through his system along with sheer adrenaline. He was so much cleverer than Whitney’s precious enhanced soldiers. He could have walked right up to them and sliced their throats.
    He’d stalked them, together, and neither had been aware of his presence. He was so good. The best. So skilled and yet had none of the training the two of them had. All that time he had circled them, fantasizing about how he would end them both, laughing to himself, feeling so high. He almost couldn’t come down from it. All that money spent, all that training, and here he was, a mere foot soldier without a single enhancement, just brains and skill, eluding both of them.
    It didn’t surprise him in the least. He’d always been superior to others, but this should prove it even to Whitney. Whitney, who put his intelligence above everyone else, who believed himself a god. How many mistakes had the man made? His pheromone receptor research had made fools of the soldiers and whores of the women. Look at Wynter kissing the cripple when she should have killed him. Calhoun was inferior now. Useless. He should have had a bullet in his head a year ago, but no, they wanted his DNA.
    He was going to have to take over her training, because Whitney certainly hadn’t gotten it right. It was becoming harder and harder to wait, to play the game and play the role of a puppet. He wanted to up the Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    stakes and shove it right under their noses now that he knew he could. Oh yes, this was going to be fun.

CHAPTER 7
    Someone was