Worse, he could see splinters in her chin and along her arm. The rebels are going to be swarming all over this place. Now, Briony. Swaying unsteadily, Jack reached out and caught her to him. He would have killed both of us. Move now.
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Worse, he could see splinters in her chin and along her arm. The rebels are going to be swarming all over this place. Now, Briony. Swaying unsteadily, Jack reached out and caught her to him. He would have killed both of us. Move now. Briony blinked up at him and then firmed her mouth. Her arm slipped around his waist. You could have been killed. The rebels looking for me had to have heard the shots Just keep walking. There was something about her that just plain got under his skin.
Briony Jenkins was a woman made to belong to a man--heart and soul. Worse, she was the kind of woman a man might kill over, and he certainly was more than good at that. It made for a bad combination. Briony glanced up at the man leaning more and more of his weight on her.
He was swearing over and over under his breath. Sheer will kept him on his feet. They made it back to the stream, and Briony stopped him, sitting him on a fallen tree trunk. Her bizarre childhood training was suddenly an asset. Somewhere close by she sensed several men. She waited as long as she could, giving Jack a chance to rest before dragging him up again and setting off toward Kinshasa.
She had to skirt around groups of soldiers hunting in the forest. Each time, their scent gave them away before she ever came close to them. She chose the deserted streets and alleyways as she made her way with him back to her room. The man must have a will of absolute iron to keep going. He never faltered, stoically walking in spite of the raging fever.
His body was hot and dry, desperate for something to drink. She kept to the shadows, skirting around the pockets of people they encountered. She avoided all contact with the soldiers on the corners, careful not to draw their attention. Once they were in the alley beneath the window of her room, she leaned Jack against the wall. Do you think you can make the jump? She crouched and made the leap, catching the windowsill by her fingers.
She drew herself up onto the narrow ledge and pushed open the window. She was afraid to call out to him, all too aware of the soldiers and the possibility that the rebels had followed them into the city. Can you make it?
Briony put one hand on the sill and leapt back down to the ground, landing lightly on her feet beside him. She put her hand on his shoulder. Jack came alive, jerking back, his movement graceful and smooth, practiced, sliding away from her, coming to his feet, the rifle coming up. He shook his head. It belongs to my brother. Can you make the jump? This is safer for both of us. She still had lingering fears that Jack might be in Kinshasa for reasons to do with her oldest brother. Jack wiped sweat from his face.
He closed his eyes, allowing the rifle to hang by the sling around his neck, his hands dropping to his sides as if his arms were too heavy. Briony heard a slight noise and turned to see a soldier entering the alleyway.
She clenched her teeth. This had to be the night from hell. Desperate, Briony shoved Jack against the wall, her arms sliding around his neck. She leaned her body into his and lifted her mouth. The darkness surrounded them, enfolded them, so they became a shadowy silhouette the soldier could barely make out. She heard his footsteps approaching. If he saw the rifle now hidden between them, or saw the condition Jack was in, they were both in terrible trouble.
She whispered his name intimately, needing to rouse him, to make him more aware of the danger they were in. His name came out soft in her mind. An ache. Her lips feathered over his, tiny kisses along his bottom lip. He felt her rising fear, but she stuck it out, stood with him, in front of him, protecting him, just as she had in the forest. Somewhere deep inside, that small spark of humanity he had left yawned wider, stretched, and the longing he rarely allowed himself to think about now had a name.
He breathed her into his mind, inhaled her into his lungs. One arm came up around her, drew her even closer, hand sliding down her spine, although he never opened his eyes. The other hand went between them to the knife at his waist. There was nothing sexual in the way he touched her, he wanted only to comfort her, but somehow the shape and texture of her body still managed to find its way through his fingertips and imprint the memory on his brain.
His hand settled in the wet strands of her hair and he pushed her face against his shoulder, wincing as she came into contact with his wounds. Just stay still. He slowly withdrew the knife from his belt. Her fingers curled around his neck. Please, just another moment.
He might walk away. She willed the soldier to walk away. A lone guard curious in the middle of the night, not knowing death was only a breath away. There was no doubt in her mind that Jack, as ill as he was, would kill the man.
Weak, his body ravaged by fever, he acted on instinct, on his extensive training. He was a killing machine, and anyone in his way was going to die. It had to be such a terrible way to live. She closed her eyes tight, praying the soldier would shift directions. She "pushed" at the soldier to return to the street. She forgot that Jack could read her thoughts until his fingers bunched in her hair.
She looked up at him. He opened his eyes to meet her gaze. His expression hardened. That was the trouble. Not until now. This moment. Looking down at her too-innocent face. He was a rough, hard man, capable of great cruelty and unrelenting, swift retaliation. He could shoot a man a mile or more away. He could rise up out of a stream and cut someone down without them ever having known he was near. He was a ghost in the forest or the desert. Some called him death and most avoided him.
Here she was, looking up at him with compassion and even caring on her transparent face. He wanted to crush her sinfully sweet mouth under his, and yet, all the while, a part of his brain knew exactly where the soldier was, planned his every move, the step to take him away from Briony and the smooth throw that would end a life. The soldier abruptly turned and walked back down the narrow alley, leaving them alone in the shadows. For a moment she sagged against him, the relief making her legs rubbery.
Thank God. She fit in his arms and in his mind, but she would never fit into his life. He put her away from him and looked up at the window. She simply nodded and sent up a silent prayer that he make it on the first try.
We clear on that? Conspiracy Game is the 4th book in the GhostWalkers series and it was flippin awesome. What is better than a book about Sexy twin Super Soldiers Nothing!!!!!! I want you more than anything, Jack. Im absolutely sure. What this book is about Jack Norton has been taken prisoner by Rebels in the Congo after rescuing his brother from the same Rebels. Jack makes a break for it and escapes.
Conspiracy Game (GhostWalker Series #4)
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