At the door he paused and looked back at her. She seemed so small and lost and alone. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to tuck you in.”

That bought him a ghost of a smile. “I’m not three.”

“I know. I’m not doing it for you.” He turned and walked away from the sight of her.

She was enough to break any man’s heart. For one moment he wished he was the hero type, the white knight charging in to save her, but he was a man, awkward in the presence of women, and he’d already made a few blunders. He washed the few dishes and went back into the pantry to look at the birthing kit—just in case.

He was a man who believed in preparing for emergencies. Having babies fell under that category. Beside the kit she’d put together were several books, and because he was reluctant to open the sealed plastic container and look at the contents, he browsed through the books. The titles told him a lot about Rose. She planned well for things.

One book was on natural childbirth, another focused on nutrition for the pregnant woman. Both books had been read many times. The pages were worn and dog-eared. Another book on parenting caught his attention. He flipped through it and found many passages underlined. There were notes in the margin Rose had made to herself, multiple reminders to find other titles on various subjects. Like Kane, Rose could kill a man with her bare hands without blinking, but diapering a baby was out of their realm of expertise.

He closed the book slowly, the revelation hitting him hard. She had to be every bit as scared as he was over the birth of their child. She had no more experience than he did. Just because she was a woman didn’t mean that she understood any of this. She’d never had parents to give her a blueprint. Neither of them had the least idea of what they were doing, but at least Rose was trying. She was determined that their child would have the chance in life she never had—to grow up in a loving home.

Kane had grown up on the streets. He didn’t know any more about parenting than Rose did, but he had a family. His team were all members of that family, GhostWalkers every one of them, intensely loyal to one another. They would extend that same loyalty to Rose and his child.

His child. He sank into a chair a bit overwhelmed by the idea. He’d searched for Rose for months because he was tied up in knots with wanting her, but he hadn’t honestly thought too much about what it would mean if she was truly pregnant. His child. Their child together. They had created life. Both had DNA that wasn’t altogether human, and both had psychic gifts. What would that mean for their child? Rose hadn’t had the benefit of doctors for prenatal care. He rubbed his temples.

A child was a huge responsibility. Did he want that? Hell yes. The moment he fit his palm over Rose’s belly, swollen with his child, the baby had rocked his world. That little flutter pressing hard against his hand to let him know there was life there, a life they’d created together, had found its way into his heart. He was solidly with Rose—Whitney was not getting their son.

He padded silently back into the bedroom, the birthing book in his hand. Rose looked at him, her expression drowsy—and sexy. He nearly groaned aloud. Was it perverted to find her incredibly sexy in her present physical condition? He should have brought the other book, the one about how her body changed during pregnancy. It had advice for husbands. He liked the way the word fit. Husband. Yeah. He could do that—with Rose.

“I just came in to say good night,” he offered, keeping his tone low.

“I’m glad you did. I wanted to say I’m glad you’re here. You can sleep here. It isn’t as if we haven’t shared a bed,” she added. “There’s plenty of room.”

He wasn’t getting in a bed with her. What was she thinking? His body was already doing enough raging at him. “I think it’s best to keep a lookout.” They wouldn’t be coming until the following night, he was fairly certain, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He wasn’t going to sleep and leave her vulnerable. “I think I’ll catch up on my reading.”

She flashed a small smile. “Good choice there. But I really don’t mind about the bed if you change your mind.”

“Thanks. If I get too tired, I’ll keep that in mind.” He turned to leave.

“Don’t go. Not until I fall asleep. I feel ... safer with you in the room.”

“The lamp won’t bother you?”

She closed her eyes, settling against the pillow. Kane walked silently across the room and pulled the comforter closer to her chin, knowing he was using the gesture as an excuse to touch her again. Her skin was soft beyond his memories, and her hair against the pillow looked like a fall of blue black silk. Her lashes were long and feathery, as midnight black as her hair. He felt at peace when he looked at her, which, considering the state of arousal she put his body in, was strange. His whole being settled in her presence.

Asleep, she looked younger than ever and terribly innocent. She didn’t belong in a world of violence. He’d told her to rest, that they would be safe, but he knew better. If Whitney was truly playing one of his games, it wasn’t going to be so damned easy. He’d be sending someone to see if Rose had taken the bait and was in residence. That meant they were going to have a visitor soon. With a soft sigh, he ran his thumb down her soft cheek and then settled into a chair and began reading.

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 c**k sprang to life right there on the sand, full and hard and aching with need. Erotic images poured into his head. She had full br**sts, 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 c**k 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 ni**les. 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 br**sts 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 br**sts; 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.