Ghostwalker 08 - Street Game

him?

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    Boss. If you kill her, do I get all this cool equipment?
    I’m not in the mood, Javier. Who is it? Can you get me a name?
    Not a chance, Top. Remember that encryption program Jaimie was telling us about? Well, she uses it. I can’t hack her mail.
    Do whatever she did to get into Paul’s. You were there. She talked you right through it.
    Not exactly. She knows the code, not me. She told me what she did, not how she did it. She has a backdoor into the program, boss, not me. I could search for . . .
    Yeah, I get it. A hundred years.
    More like a thousand, boss.
    It felt like a betrayal to him. She had been corresponding with someone else, sharing her data, her conclusions, her suspicions—with someone other than him. And she hadn’t told him. Had he really lost her trust to that extent? The blow was enormous. He stood up so abruptly his chair nearly fell over. Kane caught it, shooting him a strange look, but Mack paced away from them, wishing them all gone. Needing them to be gone so he could be alone to reason out the why of it. Why had Jaimie kept this from him?
    It seemed impossible to separate his emotions, as intense as they were. Jaimie was his. His world. They’d talked about resolving their issues. Hell, they’d shared the best sex he’d ever had in his life. Everything was right. But this . . . Why hadn’t she told him she wasn’t working alone on trying to expose Whitney and whoever was backing him?
    Kane, get them out of here.
    What’s wrong?
    I’ll tell you later. After he strangled her.
    He stalked across the room, vaguely aware of Kane closing down the meeting with the others, filling them in on the plan to retrieve the weapons. Mack stared down at Jaimie’s face. So innocent. So pale. Her midnight black hair, so dark it gleamed bluish black whenever the light hit it, only made her skin look almost a pearl white.
    Her lashes were thick and long and every bit as dark as her hair. There was even a curl on the ends of them, hardly surprising when her hair was so naturally curly.
    He reached down and pushed the coil of tubing from around her arm and gathered her into his arms. She stirred, her lashes fluttering, lifting. Her eyes were so blue, like the deepest sea.
    “Mack,” she said his name softly, a drowsy, slumberous, oh-so-sexy note.
    Her smile was slow, drawing his attention to her mouth. The one he spent far too much time fantasizing over. His stomach did a slow roll in time to her smile. “That’s 217

    right, baby. It’s Mack. I’m putting you to bed and sending everyone home.” He bent his head to brush a kiss over her forehead. “You’d better not be giving other men that particular smile.”
    “I reserve it just for you,” she assured.
    He carried her across the room to their bed. He was glad they hadn’t gotten rid of the twin-sized thing she’d been sleeping in. The bed was tucked along the side wall.
    Kane would have something to sleep on with Ethan in his bed.
    I’m assigning Brian to Sergeant Major. We’ll put him in his room. There’s no way to trace him there, Kane said.
    Sounds good. I’ll need Javier and Gideon to go with me to Washington.
    I knew you were going to go, Kane said, resignation in his voice.
    You might want to see if Joe can communicate telepathically. If so, put him on the roof when we’re gone. If not, Lucas would be my next choice.
    Anything else?
    Don’t get anyone killed while I’m gone.
    I’ll do my best, boss.

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CHAPTER 16

    “What are you doing?” Jaimie asked, coming up behind Mack. She’d known the moment he’d left her bed.
    Light was creeping into the windows. The sun could barely make it through the thick fog drifting in off the ocean, casting gloom over the early-morning light. She’d followed him on bare feet down to her workroom after making a cup of tea, more to give herself time to assess her feelings than for the need of her early-morning cup.
    Lying all night in Mack’s arms, his body wrapped tightly around hers, with Ethan and Kane lying only a few feet away, had been a kind of hell. He had touched her continually. Her breasts, her ribs, her belly, his hand sliding between her legs, fingers moving inside her. She had the marks of his mouth against her neck and even on her breast, his hands and mouth keeping her aroused and on edge, but he’d never said a word. Never took her over that edge, even quietly beneath the covers. She’d never felt so aroused in her life. Every square inch of her body