Ghostwalker 09 - Ruthless Game

face from the sand burning it as she hit the ground. She’d obviously covered her bel y instead of her face. Her breathing was loud and ragged as she fought for air.
    “Don’t move, Rose.” His voice sounded strangled. Without the enhancements of her il usions, she looked like a broken dol , smashed on the sand. His first instinct was to gather her in his arms and just cradle her against him where she’d be safe, but it was too late for that.
    “Give me a minute,” she gasped.
    Pain didn’t show on her face, but it was there in her eyes. And fear. She was very frightened. He smoothed back her hair. “Don’t be afraid, Rose. I’m not going to let anything happen to you or the baby.”
    She swal owed hard and let out her breath. “I’m counting on that.”
    He could feel the tension ebbing out of her. Grateful that she was beginning to trust him a little, he swept his arm around her shoulders to help ease her into a sitting position.
    She managed a smal smile. “I think I should have thought that particular part of the plan through a little better.” She looked around her. “We’ve got to get moving. I’m hoping we can disturb the sand enough to cover our tracks, and they’l think we went into the ravine with the car.”
    Kane looked around him. Sand stretched out for miles. “This could be bad, Rose. The farther we get away from the city, the more chances are we’l get caught out in the open.”
    “Not if you know where you’re going.”
    He sighed and reached down to help her to her feet. She swayed unsteadily and clung to him. That smal show of fragility shook him. Rose was such a mixture both ultra-feminine and ultrasoldier. She didn’t flinch from combat, yet she leaned into him, so soft and vulnerable, his heart ached.
    “Enlighten me.” He sounded gruff, but she’d twisted his insides up, and he wasn’t certain how to react to her. He damn wel wasn’t going to force himself on her ever again, but just being close to her made him feel different inside.
    She moved, a soft, subtle, very feminine retreat. He felt something hard press against his chest, right over his heart, and he stiffened, glancing down at the barrel of the gun and the absolute steadiness in her smal hand. His gaze jumped to hers. Her eyes stared without blinking, no hesitation. The woman meant business. So much for soft and feminine. Fury burst through him, but he didn’t move, didn’t show her anything at al .
    “Throw it away, Kane. You’re either with me or against me. If you’re with me, throw the tracker into the ravine.”
    There was nothing sweet about her voice. He considered wrapping his long fingers around her neck and strangling her right there.
    “If I throw the tracker into the ravine, we have no resources—no backup. They’l come get us in a few days. We just have to lay low.”
    She stil didn’t blink. “This child is never going to fal into Whitney’s hands. Not ever. I need help, Kane, and I’m wil ing to trust you, but only you. You have to make a decision.”
    Fury knotted the muscles in his bel y. Anyone who knew him would have been alarmed by his calm demeanor and the cool, flat look in his eyes. “What are you going to do, Rose? Shoot me?” His voice dropped lower than ever, softer, even more deceptive. “You’re going to shoot the father of your child?”
    She blinked. He slapped the gun away, turning sideways to present a smal er target. His fingers closed in a brutal grip around her wrist and he twisted, dropping her to her knees, extracting the gun from her fist and holding her locked in position. With one hand he engaged the safety and shoved the gun into his belt.
    “You ever point a gun at me again, Rose, pul the fucking trigger. Do we understand each other?” He chose not to look at the pain on her face or the tears swimming, turning those dark eyes to soft, melting chocolate. He didn’t let up on the pressure on her wrist. If she moved, it would break. They both knew it. “You don’t know me, Rose. You just think you do. I’m not the sweet, mal eable man you took me for. You aren’t going to manipulate me.”
    She swal owed and blinked rapidly in an effort to dispel the tears. “Let me up.”
    “Are you going to try to stick a knife in me next?”

    “Are you going to try to stick a knife in me next?”
    “If you don’t let go, I’l most likely consider it.”
    He eased the pressure on her wrist, al owing her to get to her feet, but he was much more careful,