Conspiracy Game (35 page)

“The problem that we’re facing, Ken, is that we don’t know who we can trust. Whitney always had contacts. Hell, he knew the president. If he’s alive and pulling all the strings in this experiment, he isn’t alone. We don’t know who’s behind any of this. Whitney may have the know-how and the money, but he’s in solid with someone directing all this.”

Briony cleared her throat. “If Whitney really has contacts in the military, and there is some huge conspiracy going on, if they thought I was with you, wouldn’t they send you out on a mission so I had nowhere to go?”

The twins exchanged a long look.

“Oh God.” Her hand went to her throat. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

Jack pulled her hand to his heart. “We were contacted late last week, but we’re on leave. We were both injured and neither of us has a doc’s okay to return to service, not that that ever stopped us before, but we said no.”
I said no because Ken needs far more recup time.
Jack made sure his barriers were up against his twin to keep him from that private contact. “Both of us intend to extend our time with personal leave as well.”

“They can’t make you go back?”

“I think they counted on us never turning them down. We never have. And they figured the target would be too personal for us to resist. They want General Ekabela taken out,” Jack said. “My guess is, the man knows too much and they need him dead.”

“In other words,” Ken added, “he isn’t useful to Whitney anymore.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jack raised her knuckles to his lips. “You were a bit upset, Briony, and you needed sleep last night, and in any case, we didn’t think about why they would send us into the field, we go all the time.” He shrugged. “I thought they offered it to us because of what Ekabela had done to us.”

“But that means they know I’m with you. How would they know?” She nearly jumped out of her skin as the waiter approached.

Jack laid his hand on her arm. Gently. Just touching her. Warmth flowed into her mind, and almost at once she felt calmer, more able to breathe away fear. “Not necessarily. They may have wanted to make certain we were out of the country in case you did try to contact me.”

“It makes sense,” Ken added.

As the waiter hovered, Jack glanced up, eyes suddenly going from warm gray to ice steel. Briony buried her face in her menu to hide her expression.

The waiter cleared his throat. “Are you ready to order, ma’am?”

Jack drew out the paper on nutrition and began to study the menu, comparing items with the paper. “The chicken pasta looks good, Briony,” he ventured. “And the vegetable salad.”

Ken nudged her foot under the table and flashed a quick grin from behind his menu, winking at her.

“Yes, it does, Jack. I think I’ll have that.” Briony gave the waiter her menu and smiled at Jack.

“And she’ll have a glass of milk as well,” he added.

Ken nearly spit water over the menu. “Milk? You having it too, Jack?”

“Sure. Why not? And I’ll have the chicken pasta as well,” Jack said, handing the waiter his menu.

“I’m driving, so I’ll have a very hot cup of coffee,” Ken said. “And a steak, rare, with a baked potato and everything on it.”

“Ken?” Briony widened her eyes in helpless innocence. “That might make me sick just to look at it. I’ve been feeling so nauseous lately.”

Ken jerked his head up, a suspicious frown on his face. “You wouldn’t joke about something like that, would you?”

Briony covered her mouth with a delicate hand. “Just saying steak and rare made my stomach upset.”

“Fine. Give me the chicken pasta as well. But hold the damn milk.” Ken glared at her. “Just how long do you plan on being sick?”

She grinned at him. “A long, long time, now that we’ve had the good news about the baby and all.”

“Babies,” Jack corrected.

“Comes in useful, does it? I had no idea you had a mean streak in you, but I should have guessed, with Jack adoring you and all.”

Briony took a sip of water, looking away so he wouldn’t see her expression. She didn’t seem very good at hiding her thoughts from either of them. Jack didn’t adore her. The chemistry was there, exploding all over the place, but he didn’t adore her—that was never going to happen.

Don’t count on it.
The warmth of Jack’s voice caressed her mind, touched her intimately, and spread through her body.

For a moment she could barely breathe with wanting him.

You can’t look at me like that, baby. Not here. Not where I have to keep my mind on protecting you.

She had to remember to shield her mind from him. She wasn’t used to having anyone around who could catch her thoughts, and worse, her face seemed to be an open book.

“Don’t look at him, Bri,” Ken suggested. “Pay attention to me. As soon as we hit the bar, he’s going to go all bossy and possessive and act like an idiot and annoy the hell out of you anyway, so don’t even think nice thoughts about him.”

“Are you, Jack?” she asked. “Are you going to go manly and possessive and act like an idiot?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Probably.”

“Why? I’m pregnant and on the run, Jack. Do you think I’m likely to fling myself at another man and beg him for wild sex?”

Jack groaned. “You can’t say wild sex. You can’t think it. I have the hard-on from hell now, thank you very much.”

Briony flushed, damp heat soaking her panties and her breasts suddenly aching and full. She lifted her chin. If he could admit it, then so could she—just not aloud.
You can’t say hard-on from hell because then I want to touch—and taste, and have you buried very deep inside me.
She took great care to keep her barriers up against Ken and hoped Jack was doing the same.

Son of a bitch, Briony, you’re going to fucking kill me talking like that.
Jack caught her hand and drew it under the table, pressing her palm tightly against him.

His reaction was definitely gratifying. She could hear the need pulsing in his voice, hoarse and clipped and edgy, feel it in the thick bulge throbbing under the thin material of his jeans.
Nice to know I’m not alone.

“Would you like me to go check you into a hotel room?” Ken asked, glaring at them. “Because it’s getting embarrassing sitting with the two of you.”
Hell, bro, we’ve been mind-to-mind so much we don’t even think about it and certainly have never cared how hot either of us was for a woman—but it feels different with Briony. I feel like a damned Peeping Tom.

I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more careful about protecting you.

I’d appreciate it.

“You’ll be doing a lot of babysitting, Ken,” Jack said, releasing Briony’s hand as the waiter arrived with their dinner.

Briony busied herself with her pasta, not wanting to think too much on her confession and what the repercussions might be. She was getting used to the tremendous pull between them. It wasn’t waning in strength—if anything, it was growing by just being in close proximity and getting to know each other better, but she was learning to handle it. Even so, she sat eating her dinner, listening to the sound of the two brothers’ voices, and all the while she was acutely aware of every move, every gesture—no matter how small—that Jack made.

He watched the doors and the people passing by. The table was situated where they could look out, but no one would see them. She realized that they were acting as they always did—her being there didn’t mean added security. They were always watching—always aware. What did that say about their lives? She studied them closely. The same shadows were in Ken’s eyes. That same wariness. He looked more relaxed, maybe even more easygoing, but she realized it was a façade. And they knew each other so well, had worked with each other, could communicate silently—they were definitely a team, and a lethal one at that. It occurred to her that it was somewhat of a miracle that both of them had allowed her into their lives.

It was Ken who paid the bill, and all the while he was busy talking to the waiter, Jack was at his back, gaze flat and cold and watchful. How long had they had to be afraid someone wanted them dead? Too long. It had to have been too long.

Briony stayed between them as they made their way out into the dark of night. Music blared down the sidewalk, pouring out of a building just up the street. Neither man said anything, but they turned in the direction of the sound.

“I’ve never actually gone in a bar,” Briony confided, sliding closer to Jack as they went into the darkened interior. “I couldn’t go into such a confined, crowded space. There were too many overwhelming emotions—desperation and loneliness seemed the most prominent when I’d pass by an open door. I wasn’t taking any chances.”

“I’m forced to come here,” Jack said, scowling at his twin.

Ken grinned unrepentantly. “Should I order you milk, Briony?” He turned to go to the bar.

“You do and I’m going to prove to you that I’m enhanced.” Briony heard his laughter as Jack ushered her toward a booth near the back where he had a clear view of the room. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as he walked through.

“You really don’t like it here, do you?” she asked. She had to sit close to him in order to be heard above the music and the noise of the crowd.

“Too many variables. All it takes is one really drunk cowboy and things are going to go to hell fast.”

She patted his thigh. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

He looked so startled she couldn’t help but smirk. At once he relaxed, taking her hand. “I do enjoy watching Ken have fun. He loves country music. He plays the guitar and sings like you wouldn’t believe. Don’t tell him, but he has a good voice—really good. Before Ekabela had him tortured, all the women flocked around him like bees to honey.”

“And now?” She watched Ken. He didn’t look at the women. He sat on a bar stool and talked to the bartender, and after bringing them both drinks—hers Coke—he talked to several men who were obviously friends. He didn’t look like he had a care in the world, but she knew differently when Jack took her hand and nearly broke her bones squeezing it.

Can you feel him? He tries to shut me out, but this is hell. Still he makes himself come here. He doesn’t have retreat in him. See why I admire him?

There were a lot of reasons to admire Ken. Watching him make the rounds, she sat quietly enjoying the music, holding Jack’s hand, all the while feeling the warmth of his body so close to hers. Ken took about an hour and then slipped into the booth and waved them onto the dance floor.

“You sure, baby,” Jack asked. “You don’t have to, if you’re tired.”

“I’d love to dance with you.” She wasn’t certain why he looked so leery until she slipped into his arms.

His scent enveloped her, his arms surrounded her, and his chest felt real and solid beneath her cheek. His body responded to her nearness with a tight fullness pressed close to her belly. It was a slow, dreamy song, and she let herself drift in a haze of need and lust, of urgent desire, matching the sway of his body, finding a perfect rhythm with his body. It was a moment in time no one could ever take away from her.

His hands held hers while he guided her through the swaying crowd. He bent his head to brush his mouth along her temple. She’d never danced with a partner—she couldn’t touch anyone so intimately—but Jack was sure and strong and led her as if they’d been dancing forever.

She closed her eyes on the way home, not letting the conversation between the brothers take away from the experience. She was tired, but happy—in spite of the fact she was having twins. She must have fallen asleep, because she woke to Jack carrying her into the house.

Briony took a long bath, and when she came out, Jack was already lying on the bed, his hair still damp from a shower. She raised an eyebrow, but her body reacted immediately, breasts aching. Beneath the thin tank top, she felt her nipples peaking. “Are you sleeping here again tonight?”

He pulled back the covers. “It’s the only way I’m going to get any sleep. If you don’t want me in the bed, I’ll take the chair.”

“No, we managed last night.” She slipped between the covers, her heart beating a little too fast. “I’m going to have nightmares about babies everywhere.”

Jack rolled over and shoved the blankets off of her to expose her before pushing her tank top from her stomach. His hands passed over her rounded tummy, then surrounded it, and he bent forward to press his lips against her skin. “Hello in there. Come to attention. This is your father talking. Your mom’s a little afraid of this twin thing. We’re going to have to ease her into it, so don’t go kicking too hard at first. Give her a little time to adjust.”

“The baby book says the baby can hear and eventually recognize our voices, but not this early.”

“But they aren’t talking about our babies, Briony. They hear me. They know. And they aren’t going to be little soldiers for Whitney and his fucked-up plans.”

Briony smiled. “If you’re really so sure they can hear you, stop swearing. They’ll come out saying the F word and I’ll tell the doctor you taught it to them.”

“Sorry. That was a slip, boys. Don’t be saying that word.”

“Boys?” She caught his head in her hands, forcing him to look up at her. “
Not
boys. Boys are difficult. They do all sorts of boy things.”

“Not girls, Briony. Can you see me trying to keep up with two little girls? And what happens when they get older and some boy wants to take them on a date?” He groaned and once again stretched out, turning on his side to prop himself up with one elbow. “I’d either lock the girls in closets or spend my life picking off hopeful horny teenagers.”

“Hopeful horny teenagers?” she echoed.

“We’d have to homeschool the girls and put up a twelve-foot barbwire
electric
fence complete with a security system.”

“Let me get this straight. If we have boys, they can run wild and be free, but our daughters will be locked up in closets and behind fences for all time.”

“That’s about right,” Jack agreed. “Ken and I can handle boys, Briony, but no girls, so keep that in mind when you have these babies.”