Ruthless Game

CHAPTER 5

“Think cold-blooded snake,” Kane whispered aloud to himself as he stretched out in the saw grass up at the high point of the knoll, his ghillie suit covering his body. He could pick up the heat in an enemy’s body, and there were many other GhostWalkers capable of the same thing. Rose had slept most of the day, waking only to eat soup or drink water. He loved that she was actually resting. She looked so worn out, and the fact that she could actually sleep meant she trusted him to look after her. That was the best feeling in the world. Lying in plain sight wasn’t.

Diego Jimenez had chosen his hideout carefully. Open ground gave him a view of anyone coming at him from any direction. It would take vehicles capable of moving fast through sand to reach him, and he’d see and hear them coming miles before they ever arrived, but he hadn’t counted on GhostWalkers. Kane had the elite teams to worry about.

Whitney may have gone underground, but he had billions of dollars at his disposal and connections all the way to the White House. Thousands of men in the military had taken the psychic tests, but only a few qualified psychologically. Whitney had nevertheless experimented on some of those not completely qualified for his own personal army. Those men had disappeared from the service and were now working covertly for Whitney. Those were the men Kane expected.

He took another careful look around. Whitney would send a scout first, someone just to ascertain that Rose was in residence and very pregnant.

You in position, sweetheart? It went against everything male and protective in him to expose her to their enemy, but there was no way Whitney was going to try to kill her. By giving Whitney what he wanted—the satisfaction of being right—it would buy them some time. Rose needed time to rest and build her strength again.

I’m good. Sitting out under the stars, patting the baby, and reading on how to breast-feed.

His entire body clenched. His cock sprang to life right there on the sand, full and hard and aching with need. Erotic images poured into his head. She had full breasts, not too big, as her body frame was small, but they were beautiful. He’d been doing his best not to stare, and now she had to actually put more fantasies in his head. He didn’t need her to add any to his long, considerable list.

If you need to practice, just let me know. He tried for humor, but he wasn’t laughing. The vision of lying beside her, turning toward her, and taking her breast into his mouth, pulling her close against him, was almost more than he could stand.

Well, it’s not like I’ve ever done it before.

He groaned. His cock jerked, and blood pounded through his veins. What the hell did that mean? It sounded like she might need help, and if so, he was her man, quite willing to do whatever was necessary to get her ready for their child.

What does the book say? Even using telepathy, his voice sounded hoarse and strangled.

Well, I should have been reading this instead of the birthing book. I should have been preparing my nipples. Apparently I can get sore if I don’t.

He took another long, careful look around, just lifting his head enough that his gaze could take in the terrain surrounding the house. A man ought to take care of his woman, he said, meaning it. She might not think of herself as belonging to him, but as far as he was concerned, she did. If she needed her breasts taken care of, he was the only man who would be doing that. How’s that done? Maybe I’d better be the one reading the book.

Maybe ...

That was worse, and he swore this time. She’d just drifted off. Was she reading? Speculating? Imagining? He broke out in a sweat. What does the book say about pregnant women and sex? He’d gone so far as to imply he wanted to spend time on her breasts; he may as well go all the way.

There was the smallest of hesitations, telling him she was a little nervous, but she answered in a steady, intellectual tone. Actually quite a lot. Apparently, if there are no problems with the pregnancy, a woman can have sex without worry.

He smiled, took a breath, and leaned so he could search the night sky. That’s a good thing to know.

Well. She paused, taking a breath. Since we’re on the subject, do you think men find pregnant women attractive?

This man does. At least, he qualified, because he’d never really thought about it before, I find you attractive. I don’t think I’ve ever really looked at a pregnant woman one way or the other until I saw you that way.

Far off, he heard a muffled sound, like a distant beat of strong wings. Incoming.

Are you sure? You sound so calm. Maybe you’re wrong.

I’m not wrong. Can you do this, Rose? He had to know if she was going to panic. I can kill whoever they send, no problem.

Of course I can do this. I’m pregnant, not braindamaged. My condition doesn’t change my personality.

Kane rubbed his chin. Being pregnant might not have changed her personality, but it certainly made her a bit testy. There was a definite bite to her voice. He found himself grinning like an idiot. She had a way of making him feel incredibly happy for no reason at all. In the end, it wasn’t really Rose who was different, it was Kane. He admitted the truth to himself even as he watched the helicopter appear in the distance, no running lights, settling to the sand about a mile out. They weren’t taking any chances that Rose would hear them. He was the one who didn’t want Rose sitting out in front of the house as bait. He detested that she wasn’t safely out of Whitney’s reach.

It feels a little like I’m using you to lure them in.

Warmth flooded his mind. Reassurance. They don’t want me dead. Whitney wants our baby. They might try to take me now, but I’m armed and I’ve got you—my secret weapon.

The confidence in her voice shook him to the core. She was sitting calmly out in the open, waiting for the enemy to make a move, relying on him to keep her and their child safe. Rose might appear small and fragile, but she was first and foremost a soldier, trained almost from birth. Whitney and his team of killers might have done better to remember that. Whitney didn’t have much respect for the women he’d designed and trained over the years, focusing on their weaknesses and flaws rather than seeing them as human and three-dimensional. It was Whitney’s flaw, that megalomaniac ego that pushed reality into the background.

Kane’s fingers tightened around the rifle. He was actually guilty of the same thing. He persisted in seeing Rose as someone in need of protection. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to underestimate you, Rose. I have great respect for your abilities. He felt it needed to be said. He was ashamed of his need to protect her, but it wasn’t going away. If anything, the need was growing stronger.

Don’t apologize, Kane. You’ve treated me with more respect and better than any other man in my life. Believe me, I appreciate you.

Kane kept his gaze on the desert. Four men running this way. They’re spread out, standard pattern. All armed, but only two are carrying extra gear.

Do you think those two are going to hang around?

He caught the apprehension in her voice. You know they will. They’re going to wait it out and report to Whitney when you have the baby. I can take them out, and we can get the hell out of here if you’re up to it.

Her hesitation alarmed him. I don’t think it’s a good idea right now, Kane. I’m getting the contractions again. They aren’t as regular as the ones the other day, but they’re harder and lasting longer.

She was definitely frightened. The word contractions scared the holy hell out of him. He took a breath and fit the rifle to his shoulder, tracking each of the men through his scope. He had taken the rifle from Jimenez’s private arsenal, recognizing his favorite sniper rifle. It felt like an old friend. He’d cleaned it, taken it apart and put it back together, test-fired it several times, and repeated the entire operation until the rifle felt like his own.

Once he’d seen the Humvee and the CROWS system, he knew he had to tell her the truth. No way could Jimenez have acquired that system without serious backing—and he feared he knew exactly who that man had been.

Rose, Jimenez left a hell of an arsenal behind. All military issue, all the very latest technology, which meant he was in bed with Whitney.

That doesn’t make sense. For all his failings, Whitney is a patriot. He wouldn’t put weapons into the hands of a rebel.

Kane could see the enemy now, see their grim, dark-striped faces clearly. Dressed in desert camouflage clothing, they ran at a steady pace, covering the mile quickly.

They’re spreading out. Look unaware and sweet and innocent.

It’s a little hard to look innocent when I’m as big as a house.

He suppressed his unexpected laughter. She wasn’t as big as a house, not by a long shot. Hell, Rose, from the back I couldn’t even tell you were pregnant. Only your tummy is round. He congratulated himself for being wise not to use the beach ball reference. You might not think you’re innocent, sweetheart, but pregnant or not, you’re very innocent.

What does that mean?

It means, he said, once you have that baby, I’ve got a whole hell of a lot to teach you. Before she could reply and tell him to go to hell, that she didn’t plan on sticking around, he gave another report. Flanking you now. One coming around on your left side.

I can’t see him yet.

The knots in his gut unraveled a bit at the calm in her voice. He admired her, plain and simple. He was lying prone, rifle in hand, watching the enemy. She was a sitting duck. He watched each man reach a position where he was able to see the one side of the house.

Checking you out now, sweetheart. They’ve gone to ground. Keep reading the book. What else does it say?

Oh dear. This isn’t good. You know the part where women can have sex as long as there aren’t any complications? Not so much in the last month. Sex can bring on labor. My dreams are shattered.

He loved the laughter in her voice. Her teasing tone told him she was lying her ass off, but he liked that she was comfortable enough to tease him about sex. He was tied to her for life and would never find a woman with quite the same appeal, but she had no ties to him other than the baby—certainly not sex. He wiped his chin on his sleeve and kept his eye to the scope.

Your dreams? he echoed. I’m suffering here, woman. He shifted just enough to ease his body into a more comfortable position in the sand. Teasing back and forth about sex was dangerous when they had enemies coming at them, but he understood it was simply another form of comic banter soldiers often used to relieve the tension. Now you go and tell me something like that. He had no problems with camaraderie. He could do camaraderie standing on his head—but not when she was putting images of his body locked with hers in his head.

Sorry, I couldn’t resist. The book actually does say that.

She hesitated, and his body reacted, tightening in anticipation. She seemed suddenly uncertain about sharing some piece of information. For a woman forthcoming about things, that didn’t bode well. Tell me.

She sighed. I think the baby dropped.

His heart thudded. He blinked, and the man he’d been watching was gone that quick out of his line of sight. Kane marked where their enemy had gone to ground, but that didn’t mean the bastard wasn’t on the move. The baby dropped? he repeated, feeling like he’d been hit over the head with something really hard. What the hell does that mean?

When I took my shower this evening, the pressure was off my ribs. I think the baby moved down into the birthing position.

I haven’t read the book, Rose. He searched every inch of the sandbank where the enemy had disappeared, trying not to panic—not because he’d lost sight of the enemy, but because he had a very bad feeling about babies dropping and what that meant.

She hesitated again, and that small hesitation continued to freak him out. He studied the sandbank. Had blades of saw grass moved? There was no wind. Not even a breeze. The night air had cooled, but it was still warm. Stars were everywhere, glittering like diamonds scattered across the sky. It was a beautiful night. He always marveled how something so ugly as murder could take place in such peaceful settings. The night was made for a man and woman to sit quietly and enjoy the constellations and each other.

“I see you,” he whispered under his breath. The saw grass bent toward the house, and he caught a glimpse of the outline of the enemy’s shoulder. On your left, Rose. He’s moving toward you. Don’t look. If he gets too close, he’s a dead man.

He checked the other three before putting the rifle back on the one closest to Rose. The others were holding position.

Don’t shoot him. Rose’s voice was tight, even shook a little. They need proof. Whitney wants documentation of everything. They’re probably trying to get a clear picture of me. He has to maneuver into position.

That little wobble in her voice had him stroking the trigger. Ice flowed in his veins normally when he was waiting for a kill shot, but tonight, with Rose sitting out in the open surrounded by the enemy, his mind was a little difficult to discipline.

This is fucking bullshit, Rose. I’m going to kill them all and we’ll get the hell out of here. We have the Humvee.

Kane. The soft note in her voice turned his heart over. I love that you want to protect me, but I’m telling you, I can’t travel. I can’t do it. If I could, I’d say let’s go for it, but it’s too soon for the baby to be born, and I think my body is so worn down it just can’t hold her anymore.

Kane wiped the sweat from his face with one hand, watching the enemy closest to Rose. The man was still easing himself forward. Now he was within fifty feet of her.

Kane knew Whitney had “paired” him; hell, he’d even agreed to it, though he hadn’t known exactly what it meant at the time. As far as he understood it, it had something to do with pheromones. Didn’t that just mean he would forever remain sexually attracted to her? If so, if that was all, what the hell was wrong with him that every cell in his body demanded he get Rose out of the situation?

Now that he’d found her again, his child growing inside her, now that he’d watched her sleep and listened to her soft laughter, admired her courage and respected her fighting capabilities, he feared pairing was far more than sexual. Whether Whitney’s program had done that or whether he was just falling like a ton of bricks for the woman, he didn’t know, but it was messing him up having her in danger.

What’s he doing?

She sounded nervous, yet she tried to cover it. His heart twisted. He wanted to gather her into his arms and hold her. I hate to admit it, but you were right. And just for the record, that might be the only time I ever say those words to you, so treasure them. He figured if he teased her a little to lighten the tension, it would help both of them. He’s recording you sitting there looking all content and smug outside your hideaway. Whitney will love that.

I try to please.

His stomach settled. Her tone was stronger. Something was wrong, though, and he wanted these men gone. You all right?

She hesitated, and the knots were back just like that.

Rose? he prompted.

The contractions are pretty hard, Kane.

Kane rubbed his jaw. Once again he’d underestimated. She hadn’t been afraid of Whitney’s men. She’d probably been sitting there, armed to the teeth, waiting for them to make a wrong move. She was worried the baby was coming too early.

As soon as you can get inside without looking as if there’s a problem, go in. Hopefully they’ll leave faster. Two of them plan on staying behind, but they can’t risk you seeing them, so they’ll have to set up camp a distance from here.

How long will you be, Kane?

There was a distinct quaver in her voice. He swore under his breath, the urge to just shoot the bastards and get to her nearly overwhelming common sense. I won’t be long, sweetheart.

He hoped he was telling the truth. He knew that two of Whitney’s men would return to the helicopter, probably as soon as Rose went inside, now that they had their visual confirmation for their boss. The other two might set up camp immediately, believing she was alone, or one might remain watching. If that happened, Kane was going to have to reenter the house using the tunnel, and that meant a long hike through the sand without being seen. Visibility on such a clear night was virtually miles. He’d be crawling, and Rose would be waiting, maybe going into labor.

I should have just shot the bastards. It would have been easier, Rose.

She laughed at the frustration in his voice. I’m going in while I can. I’ll be fine. If the contractions are real, they’ll grow stronger still and get longer in length.

Through his scope he watched her pick up the folding chair and carry it back inside. No light escaped from the house. Once she was inside and the small light she’d used for reading disappeared, so did the house. Kane remained absolutely still. The men were in motion, one moving right up to Jimenez’s subterranean hideaway. He examined the sand all around the house. Kane was grateful that he’d always covered his tracks when patrolling outside and familiarizing himself with the terrain.

The one close to the house joined a second man. They conferred, waved at the remaining two, who took off running for the waiting helicopter. Kane turned his full attention to the two left behind. They were up and jogging straight toward him.

“I don’t know why he just won’t let us grab her,” one grumbled. “You know this is a bullshit assignment, Fargo. He was pissed at us because we didn’t get the job done. I’d like to get my hands on the little bitch and teach her a lesson. Whitney’s been on my case since she rejected me.

And he’s been on yours ever since your little bitch tried to disembowel you.” The man snickered and then spit.

The spit landed four feet from where Kane lay in the saw grass. He remembered the speaker. Carlson James. Kane had looked up his service record the moment he’d gotten out of Whitney’s compound. James was a troublemaker in every unit he was put in. He’d been reported killed in Afghanistan two years earlier, but not before an arrest warrant had been issued for the suspected rape of a female officer. Kane knew exactly why Whitney had chosen the man for his private army. He needed someone ruthless, without morals, who would have no qualms forcing a woman to have sex with him. Carlson James fit that bill.

Why had Whitney chanced sending him? Not only had Carlson’s ego been seriously bruised by Rose’s rejection, but he was paired with her too. Kane heard the rage smoldering in the man’s belly when he spoke of Rose. He had to be eaten alive knowing another man had touched her—that she was carrying another man’s baby. Kane didn’t trust him at all. Carlson was the type of man who would turn on Whitney if the right circumstances presented themselves. It was a stupid move on Whitney’s part.

“We’ll have to set up camp a couple of miles from here,” Fargo said. “This is one shit assignment. At least my bitch isn’t knocked up by some other man.” He laughed as he brushed past Carlson.

Kane held his breath as Carlson snarled, exposing his teeth, one hand going to the knife at his belt. Tension stretched out. Fargo glanced over his shoulder and abruptly came to a halt. His eyes glittered, a dangerous excitement. Both men were jacked up on something, and Kane feared it wasn’t a drug. Whitney wanted his soldiers aggressive. Both of the men wore aggression close to the surface. They looked like two bulls squaring off.

Fargo shook his head. “We’ve got a job to do, Carlson. If we don’t get it done, Whitney will send his hit squad. He warned you not to touch her.”

Carlson’s hand dropped from his knife, but Kane didn’t get the feeling he was appeased. The man shrugged. “Yeah. I heard him.”

“It’s my job to see you don’t go near her.”

Carlson’s smirk was a parody of humor. “We’ll see how good you are at your job.”

“Don’t you worry about me. You want to take first watch?”

“She’s as big as a cow,” Carlson snapped. “Where the hell is she going? I’m heading for bed. I’ve already got sand in my mouth. I hate this place.”

The two set off, griping and complaining, moving toward the south. Kane watched them plow over the rolling sand dunes. He was not going to let Rose outside again if there was any way to prevent it. Seeing her pregnant would only provoke Carlson further. What game was Whitney really playing? Something was off about the entire setup.

Swearing, he rolled over, keeping his weapon clear, staying very close to the ground so if either man looked back they wouldn’t be able to see him. He slithered down the slope leading to the house on his belly, much like a lizard.

I’m coming in, Rose. If the lights are on, turn them off.

They aren’t on.

There was something not quite right about her voice. He took another careful look around, ensuring the enemy was still heading away from the hideaway before he lifted his hand, moving the air in the gentlest of breezes, pushing the sand over his tracks, paying particular attention to the saw grass where he’d lain hidden. When he was satisfied the ground could stand a close examination, Kane opened the door and went in. He made certain to drop the heavy metal bar across the door, sealing them in and making certain no one could sneak in that way. Tomorrow night he would set a few traps around the house, several feet out in a circle, which would warn him if anyone—like Carlson—got too close. He slipped inside the house and let out his breath, aware of the tension coiled inside him.

He felt a little like a rat caught in a trap. He preferred open places where he could maneuver. He would be more help to Rose outside, where he could pick off the enemy easily, than here inside. Something clicked in his brain. Diego Jimenez would have felt the same way. How did he manage to relax here, knowing he was hunted? Had he relied solely on the fact that his hideout couldn’t be seen easily? Kane couldn’t believe Jimenez would think that way.

There had to be a warning system. He and Rose had missed it. The system couldn’t consist of motion lights; Jimenez wouldn’t want anyone who hadn’t actually spotted the house to be alerted by a light coming on, nor would that help during daylight hours. Kane moved through the dark house to the bedroom, turning the puzzle over and over in his mind. He stopped abruptly in the doorway, staring at the empty bed. His heart stopped beating—at least it felt that way. The jolt was sickening.

He spun around, eyes wild, feeling frantic. Had he missed something? He drew his weapon and stepped close to the tunnel entrance, looking for signs that someone had used it to come into the house.

Rose! She hadn’t contacted him telepathically. If she was in trouble, surely she would have. Rose, answer me, damn it. He bit out each word, authoritative. Commanding. The edge of ruthlessness more apparent than he would have liked, but he was trying not to panic.

“In here. I need your help.”

His heart began beating again, but the taste of fear remained in his mouth. He found her in the kitchen, waving at him from a nearly invisible ledge built along the windows. A single hard-backed chair was set just under the ledge. She’d obviously climbed onto the chair and inserted herself, baby and all, onto the ledge.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

She handed him a rifle. “My job.” She reached for him, wincing as her belly slid along the ledge.

He took her into his arms, carried her through the house to the bedroom and, resisting the impulse to drop her, sat her gently on the bed. “Your job is to keep from having the baby early, Rose, not play soldier.”

Her eyes darkened from rich chocolate to nearly black. “I do not play at being a soldier. I am a soldier. We’re a team, and I do my part, which is to watch your back.”

Fury burned in her eyes. He’d touched a sore subject, no doubt about it, but he wasn’t going to back down. She was pale. Little beads of sweat dotted her forehead. He could tell by the way she involuntarily rocked that she was in pain. He glared at her. “You were supposed to rest, not put yourself in danger looking out for me.”

“Diego made this house defensible. I knew that meant he would have places he could see out but no one could see in. Or he could shoot from, if needed. It didn’t take that long to discover he built a shelf in every room along the windows so he could see anything coming at him or shoot anything endangering him. I just climbed up there and watched your back, just like you would have done for me.”

There was no apology in her voice, and he knew he wasn’t going to get one, no matter that he was right. She’d climbed up on a chair to reach the nearly hidden shelf where she had to lie on her stomach, rifle in hand, tracking the enemy. He wasn’t a man known for his temper, but she was skating the edge of it more often than anyone he’d known.

“So you stood on a chair and pulled yourself up there.” He couldn’t look at her without wanting to shake her—or kiss her—so it was just easier to be angry.

“That’s exactly what I did.” There was defiance in her voice, and that told him she hadn’t thought it was such a hot idea either. “Kane.” Her voice softened. Dripped over him like warm honey. “Don’t be upset with me. I don’t want you upset with me.”

He made the mistake of turning his head. She sat on the edge of the bed, rocking back and forth, her hands cradling their baby, looking so far from a soldier his treacherous heart turned over. She looked vulnerable and beautiful and his. He’d never experienced the sensations taking place in his body—or his head. She’d slipped inside him and had coiled tightly around his heart. That mixture of fragile porcelain doll and fierce fighting soldier was a potent combination, keeping him off balance.

Her eyes, those melting chocolate almonds, blinked back at him all too innocently. She looked close to tears. He shook his head, ran both hands through his hair until it was completely disheveled. “I’m not upset. Well, a little. I don’t want you climbing on chairs in your condition. It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable, Rose; I do. It’s just that a man feels the need to protect his woman—and his child. The thought of you falling or hurting yourself or the baby is ...” He searched for a word that was appropriate to say around a woman. “Distressing.”

She nodded. “I’ll be more careful. Really.” Blink. Blink.

He was falling hard. One more little bat of her eyelashes and he was going to be on his knees. This wasn’t going the way he wanted it to go. He was totally wrapped around her little finger with just one little blink of her long lashes. For God’s sake, he was a tough guy, wasn’t he? Why the hell was he turning into jelly just looking at her?

“You’d better be,” he said, his voice gruff. “Have the—um—pains eased up?”

She shook her head. There was fear in her eyes.

He stepped closer to her. Her scent surrounded him, making it more difficult to think straight. He put his palm on her belly, spreading his fingers to take in as much territory as possible, willing the baby to stay put. “How early?”

“Too early. Nearly five weeks, Kane.” Her voice shook.

Keeping one hand on the baby, he curled the fingers of his other hand around the nape of her neck in a slow massage. “We’ll get through this.”

“We have to stay,” she said. “You know I can’t leave like this.”

“You just need to rest,” Kane replied soothingly, hoping it was true. He had a bad feeling, and he manfully didn’t point out that climbing on a chair and lying on her stomach might not have been the best way to stop labor.

“Kane.” She looked up at him, her eyes going wide. “Why didn’t they know you were close by?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Whitney’s men. They didn’t know you were here,” Rose said.

“That was the point.”

She shook her head. “I always know when GhostWalkers are close. I’ll bet you do as well. They walked right by you, and they didn’t have a clue.”

“You’re a GhostWalker. They probably thought they were feeling you.”

She shook her head. “Not after I went into the house. You were only a few feet from them, Kane. They should have felt the surge of energy around you, but they didn’t.”

“Or they didn’t notice because they weren’t paying attention.” But he didn’t think that likely. Two men left out in the desert alone? They’d been on alert. They may have dropped their guard a little when Rose went into the house, feeling as though she was trapped there and they had the upper hand. But she was right—Whitney’s two men should have felt the buildup of energy emanating around them.

“These men,” Rose said, nuzzling his hand with her cheek, “they flunked the psychological evaluation but not the psychic testing, right?”

Kane was certain she didn’t realize she was rubbing her cheek against him much like a cat. He laid his hand against her face, loving the feel of intimate contact with her. “Not only did they bomb on the psych eval, but their psychic abilities were extremely low.”

Her eyebrow shot up. “How did you know that?”

He grinned at her. “We have this really savvy techie who can hack just about anything. She hooked up with another woman who escaped Whitney, and between the two of them, they manage to snoop into almost anything Whitney has documented.”

Her hands covered his over the baby. “Who? What are their names?”

She looked so eager for news, he was sorry he knew he would be disappointing her. “Jaimie is married to Mack, the leader of our unit. I should have shot them both for eloping like that too. She’s been with us since she was a little kid. We all grew up together on the streets of Chicago. Jaimie’s psychic, and she was enhanced by Whitney, but he never was around her when she was a child.”

“And the other woman?”

He could tell she was holding her breath. “Whitney bought her from an orphanage somewhere in Europe. They call her Flame. She’s married to a Cajun GhostWalker we all call Gator. Flame wasn’t raised in the compound with you, sweetheart. She escaped from a different facility.”

Tears filled Rose’s eyes and she blinked them away, turning her head, allowing the silky cap of hair to fall around her face. “How many women did he do this to?” Her voice was very low, and it trembled.

He sank down onto the bed beside her and pulled her into his arms. It was awkward trying to hug her, so he simply lifted her onto his lap. Modesty be damned. If she gave him a hard-on all the time and he had to walk around with the damned thing, she could just deal with it.

Holding her against his chest, he rocked her gently. “Jaimie and Flame have been monitoring Whitney’s computer as often as they dare. There’s been no mention that any of the women who escaped with you have been recaptured. I think he concentrated mainly on you because he suspected you were pregnant. Mari found her sister, Briony. They’re both married to GhostWalkers, who just happen to be twin brothers as well. I believe Mari’s sister just had twins.”

He nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. “When we’re out of this, I’ll take you to see her. They’re very well protected where they are.”

“But they still have to live in a virtual prison to stay that way, don’t they?” Rose said. She burrowed closer to him, as if trying to hide from the truth of their lives.

“He made certain it would never be easy to live on the outside for any of you,” Kane replied, choosing his words carefully. What she’d said was the truth. The women—and any children they had—would always have to look over their shoulders. There was no entirely safe place, but there was safety in numbers and preparation. “We’re banding together, Rose, the four teams, finding places we can protect so our women and children can lead as normal a life as possible.”

“We don’t even know what normal is,” she pointed out, closing her eyes as another wave rolled over her body, tightening her belly and pressing down hard on the baby. She took long, slow breaths like the books told her, trying to get on top of the contraction.

Kane tried not to swear. He held her, automatically breathing with her. He felt the way her belly was gripped with a tight band. There was no ordering her to stop. No logic was going to dictate when the baby was coming. He tried to push down his own mounting fear. There was no doctor and no way to get her to a doctor. He’d thrown their link to his team down into the ravine. He couldn’t leave her to go try to find it, which would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. But they would come. His team would come for them. He had absolute faith in them.

When the contraction had let up, he set her on her feet. “Let’s get you back in bed.”

“Would you get me a glass of water?”

He didn’t know if she was getting rid of him so she could cry while she undressed, or if she really wanted the water, but he obediently went into the kitchen to get her a drink. He leaned for a moment against the sink, head down, breathing deeply, trying to steel himself for the possibility of delivering a baby. He’d never really considered that he might have no choice.

Not one for inactivity, he went through to the pantry, grateful she had stored books on actual delivery. He thumbed through a book to see what to do with a baby once it was born. The more he read, the more alarmed he became. He had no business trying to deliver his own baby. His blood roared in his ears, his heart hammered hard. If he could have, he would have just hyperventilated and gotten it over with, but his body refused to panic. His lungs kept breathing and his head kept assessing the information, even when his mind screamed at him that he was insane to try something like delivering a baby.

“Kane, where are you?”

It was a good thing he wasn’t panicking, because she sounded like she was. “I’ll be right there,” he called.

“Well, you might want to hurry. My water just broke.”