Kane nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. Her heart jumped a second time. She held her breath, waiting—needing. “I think resting might be the lesser of two evils. I want you somewhere safe to have the baby, Rose, but the baby has to be safe too. Running without thinking is plain foolish. We’ll take precautions and give you a day or two to rest. But I want to find out how he’s tracking you.”
Relief washed through her. She didn’t have to move, hopefully not for at least twenty-four hours. She didn’t have to be vigilant or do anything but crawl under the covers and go to sleep. Kane was there, and he’d watch out for their baby.
As if reading her mind, Kane suggested, “You’re falling asleep, sweetheart. Slide under the covers and close your eyes.”
“I have to brush my teeth first. But don’t worry, once I’m under the covers, I’ll be asleep,” she assured, allowing the first tendril of happiness to sneak in.
Rose knew she was dropping her guard and she was going to get hurt, but did it have to matter right at that moment? She felt brittle—full of tiny holes as if pieces of her were long gone and spiderweb cracks veined the shell of her body. One wrong move and she would shatter. She was drowning, pure and simple. She had no reserve left and was running on empty. If Kane didn’t save her, she was going down for the last time, and this time, she wouldn’t come up again.
“Rose.”
Her heart thudded in her chest. His voice was so incredible, a sexy, low tone that resonated through her entire body. He made her feel different—feminine instead of a soldier with death on her hands. He made her feel as if life could be lived with laughter and happiness a part of it.
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
If she did, her heart would be in her eyes. Her lashes fluttered reluctantly. She was not going to cry again. What was wrong with her? She hadn’t cried once until she laid eyes on him again. She didn’t want to look like a tragic drama queen to him. She was just so tired, and, if she was honest, so happy to see him.
He caught her chin and forced her head up. The pounding in her chest was alarming. The baby drummed against her ribs, almost as frantic as she was. She moistened her lips, steeling herself to meet those gorgeous eyes. She was so broken, and Kane was the kind of man who would fix a woman, the rescuer, the hero, a man who could be counted on. She was using a good man, and she hated herself for it. The shame would be there in her eyes for him to see as well as her heart.
The pad of his thumb brushed over her lips, and her womb clenched. The baby shifted. She forced herself to lift her lashes and look into his eyes. Everything in her stilled—settled. Kane, with his tough face and piercing eyes, looked at her and saw her. She could tell he wasn’t looking past her or at an illusion she created. He saw her weaknesses, and it was all right with him. She didn’t have to hide from him. She didn’t have to project what he wanted to see. For the first time in her life she could just be herself in front of another human being.
“Are you afraid of me?”
She hadn’t expected the question. Her mouth went dry. Was she? Not in the way he meant. Kane, for all of his ferocious soldier abilities, was gentle inside. She’d known that the moment she laid eyes on him. He could shift into battle in a moment, become a fierce protector, a fighter, and she had no doubt he would kill swiftly if need be, but he was gentle inside where it counted.
“No ...” She had difficulty maintaining eye contact when that wasn’t exactly the truth. He deserved truth from her, and she’d promised herself she’d give it to him, no matter the cost, if he stayed with her. “Yes.”
He leaned forward and brushed his mouth along hers. Featherlight. The breath of hope. Stealing her soul. Her heart jerked. Her stomach somersaulted. She held herself very still while sensations poured through her veins and rushed to invade her cells. She’d already taken him deep into her lungs, and she knew she’d never be able to get him out again.
“You smell a little like heaven, Rose,” he said and shifted his weight, moving off the bed in one fluid motion that reminded her of flowing water. “I keep my promises. If you believe nothing else, believe that.”
She did believe he kept his promises. She believed in him. And that was the entire problem. She was a woman who had been betrayed at birth by her own parents, dumped in an orphanage because she wasn’t male. The orphanage betrayed her by selling her to Whitney. Whitney betrayed her by raising her as a soldier instead of a child, and then conducting his experiments. In the end, he’d taken everything from her, including her dignity, forcing her into a breeding program, reducing all those years of work and discipline to nothing at all. He treated her as if it was only her body that mattered, not her psychic talent or all of her training. She was intelligent and able to fight as well as the male GhostWalkers, but Whitney had denied her even that. Believing in anyone was absolutely insane. Yet there was Kane.
Kane left her there on the bed, taking the empty soup bowls with him. It was difficult to leave, but he was scaring her, and that was the last thing he wanted. She was stressed enough and in a delicate condition. He could stitch his own wounds and those of his team. He’d even been known to push a bullet through his skin a time or two, but this baby thing had him rattled. He didn’t have a clue what to do in the particular situation.
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.