Murder Game (GhostWalkers 7) - Page 38

Kadan settled gentle fingers around Tansy's arm and drew her completely behind him, shielding her from her father's wrath. "Settle down, Mr. Meadows. I'll admit that I'm nowhere near good enough for Tansy, but fortunately, it doesn't seem to matter to her. Right now, before we get into anything personal, we have to clear up a little business."

Meadows's lip curled with contempt. "Of course. Now the truth comes out. How much?"

Kadan remained silent, simply raising an eyebrow. When Tansy would have moved, Ian and Ryland moved up on either side of her, caging her in without seeming to.

"To make you go away. How much is it going to cost me?"

Kadan smiled and there was no humor in the baring of his teeth. He looked what he was: dangerous, predatory--and mean. "You don't have enough money to make me go away, Mr. Meadows. I suggest you sit down and answer a few questions for me."

"Dad! Why are acting this way? These men risked their lives to get you free. Fredrickson and Watson would have killed Mom and maybe you as well. You owe them your lives and you're embarrassing me."

"You don't know the type of men you're dealing with, Tansy, but I do." Don made every effort to soften his voice. "Honey, these men are employed by Whitney. They have to be." He snapped his fingers at her, beckoning her to come to him.

None of the men moved, making it virtually impossible for Tansy to go to him even if she'd been so inclined. Instead she glared at her father. "You're wrong, Dad," Tansy said. "Fredrickson was employed by Whitney, not Kadan and his men."

"Actually, Mr. Meadows," Kadan said, his voice pitched very low. "I'd like to ask you about your relationship with Dr. Whitney."

There was a small silence. Don's face reddened more, as if his blood pressure was climbing. "That's none of your business."

Kadan kept silent, simply waiting. The tension in the room grew thick.

Sharon pressed a hand to her mouth and shook her head. "We despise Peter Whitney."

"Sharon." Don's voice was a lash.

His wife flinched, but she stared at him defiantly. "I said it aloud. I don't care if he knows. I despise the man and want him out of our lives. I want him out of our daughter's life."

Kadan reached behind him and tangled his fingers with Tansy's. Your mother is telling the truth. He had to give Tansy that much. She was appalled at her father's behavior. Appalled and embarrassed that he would dismiss so casually the men who had saved his life. She was also terribly afraid that he was very mixed up in Whitney's business. Kadan wanted her to know that even if her father was guilty, her mother wasn't.

"Did you know Fredrickson worked for Whitney?"

Don pressed his lips together in disapproval, refusing to speak.

Sharon shook her head. "We were so shocked. Whitney is a madman, and he's been attaching himself to our family for years. We hired Fredrickson because Whitney began to scare us--well, scare me. I was afraid of him, and I didn't understand what he wanted from Tansy. He arranged our adoption, and at first I was so grateful, but even when she was little, Tansy didn't like him, and I wanted her to see another doctor for her . . . disorder." She glanced at her daughter in apology, but Tansy was looking at her father with open shock on her face.

"Why didn't you get another doctor for her?" Kadan asked quietly.

"That's none of your business!" Don roared. "Sharon. I forbid this. Our private life has nothing to do with these people. You're exhausted and scared. There's no need to continue this discussion right this moment." He looked at Kadan, openly challenging him. "Is there? Your men look like they could use a shower and a good night's sleep. You've got blood all over you. I suggest we take this up in the morning."

He wants the chance to talk to Mom alone and tell her not to say anything to you--or to me. He hired Fredrickson when Mom was so scared for us. He had to have known all along Fredrickson worked for Whitney.

There was quiet acceptance in Tansy's voice and that hurt more than tears. She didn't need to hear anymore.

Kadan shrugged. "Good enough. We have a room ready for you. The place is well guarded, Mrs. Meadows, and we've got alarms on all the doors and windows. The phones aren't working at the moment, but we have plenty of food if you get hungry. One of my men will be around, just ask him to show you whatever you need." He took Tansy's hand and tugged. "We'll say good night now."

She didn't look at either of her parents, but went with him without a word.

CHAPTER 12

Kadan padded on bare feet out of the bathroom to the bedroom, rubbing his hair with a towel, another slung loosely around his waist. Tansy hadn't said much, other than to order him to go take a shower, once they'd gone to the master bedroom. He wasn't certain what he was going to say to her, or how he would reply when she asked him what he intended to do about her father. He had no acceptable answer to give her.

He stopped dead when he entered the bedroom. The room was lit with low, flickering candles and smelled like heaven. Tansy sat on the bed naked, only her long hair covering her golden expanse of creamy skin. She looked sexy, a fantasy creature, lifting her eyes to his even as she rolled a bottle of oil between her hands to warm it.

"Where did you get all this?" He wasn't even certain that was his voice, husky and low and already groaning with desire.

"I have my secrets."

She flashed a mysterious smile, tipping her head to one side, her hair sliding over her one shoulder and down her back to pool on the soft sheets. Her breasts gleamed invitingly in the candlelight, her nipples already tight, tempting him to devour her.

"Come here." She patted the bed. "I want you to lie down on your stomach."

He opened his mouth to protest; lying down wasn't what he had in mind, but there was something so secretive, so sensual in her expression, he lost his voice. He tossed the loose towel aside and shed the one around his waist, his shaft already growing hard in anticipation. He'd treated the small abrasions and lacerations over his body, but there was little he could do for the bruising. He just hoped she wouldn't notice too much in the soft light. He stretched out facedown and cradled his head on his hands, eyes open to watch her every move.

Tansy leaned over him, her long hair brushing seductively over his back and sides. The feel of the silky strands sliding over his bare skin had his body tightening instantly. She began a slow massage at his neck, rubbing the scented oil deep into his skin. She paid very careful attention to every line of his muscle, every hard knot. She moved down his neck until he was groaning with pleasure, his body relaxing under her hands.

Her fingers traveled down his biceps with slow, mesmerizing strokes; she tugged until he straightened his arm, and she continued along his forearm, until she twined her oiled fingers with his. Each finger was lubricated and rubbed until he felt almost boneless. She started down the other arm, until once again she'd locked her fingers with his and then begun a slow, individual massage of each digit.

"Are you planning on putting that over my entire body?"

She began working his back muscles, rubbing harder in some spots and with a sensual circle that nearly drove him out of his mind in others. "Yes," she answered softly. "Everywhere."

His shaft jerked hard. "I'm leaking all over the bed," he said, his voice going velvet. He was as hard as a rock, almost painfully so, even his balls tight. She was going to kill him, yet he'd never felt so completely at peace and happy.

Her hands followed the slope of his flank, kneading the tight muscles. Her hair brushed along the back of his thighs, and he jerked in shock when she bit him. The small sting sent lightning careening through his bloodstream and arcing over his skin. For a moment her oiled hand slid under him. He lifted his hips to accommodate her and her fist closed around his shaft, slick with the heated oil. He groaned in satisfaction as she stroked him several times, but when he went to turn over, she stopped.

"No, stay still." Her hands went to the backs of his thighs, kneading and massaging the heavy muscles and then down to his calves and even his feet.

Tags: Christine Feehan GhostWalkers Paranormal
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