Toxic Game Read online Christine Feehan (GhostWalkers #15)

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: GhostWalkers Series by Christine Feehan
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Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
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They both sat at the extremely small table. “This looks delicious, Shylah. And it makes the house smell really good.”

“I’m not guaranteeing anything but that it looks, smells and tastes better than rations.”

He gave a little smirk of derision. “That’s not much of an endorsement. Anything would taste better than that crap.”

She laughed, just like he knew she would. “Tell me about the home you went to.”

“The Fontenots. Wyatt Fontenot is a member of our team. He grew up with several brothers out in the swamps of Louisiana. His grandmother raised them. We all call her Nonny, and she’s incredible. I didn’t have a clue that women like Nonny existed.”

Shylah was like Nonny. She would stand with her man, carving out a home and fighting by his side when necessary in the worst of circumstances.

“Nonny took all of us in when she didn’t have to. When you’re with her, you feel welcome. You feel like you have a home. I didn’t even know I was missing that until I walked into her house. For the first time something reminded me of being with Eliza when I was a kid. Nonny’s kitchen smelled like this place does. Filled with warmth. With welcoming. That house is like that because of Nonny. This one is like it because of you. I really want to thank you for giving me this experience.”

She sent him a small smile. “I can’t say I haven’t had fantasies, Draden.”

His cock jerked unexpectedly at that word. Fantasies. She’d given him a few of his own. “Those would be? Because you have to know, I’d be willing to fulfill every single one of them.”

She threw her head back and laughed. Her hair went everywhere, falling around her face in soft waves. Her eyes danced and that generous mouth of hers drew his attention. He was dying, and he felt more alive than he ever had. Every cell in his body was alert and focused entirely on the woman seated across from him.

With her head thrown back, the graceful line of her neck was exposed. Her small white teeth flashed at him and amusement danced in her eyes. He had the sudden, mad desire to stand up, sweep all the plates and food off the table and lay her down right there like some primitive caveman. “You’re giving me ideas best left alone, sweetheart.” He put a bite of chicken in his mouth to keep from doing anything crazy.

“I’m glad I’m not the only inappropriate one,” she said.

That was another thing he loved about her. She always made him feel as if they both were in the same boat. That if he was suffering for want of physical intimacy, so was she. She didn’t take offense at his thoughts, admissions or actions. There was such freedom in that. He found Shylah Cosmos amazing. The fact that he’d been given such a gift at the end of his life both angered him and appeased him.

“I like this, Draden,” she continued. “I’m going to pretend that we’re living together.”

“You don’t have to pretend, sweetheart. We are.”

“You know what I mean. I’m letting myself fall for you. All the way. I want that. You’re definitely the kind of man I would want.”

His heart clenched so hard it was a physical pain. He chewed, taking his time. “What do you mean?” He did his best to sound matter-of-fact, matching the conversational way she was being so honest. Neither had anything to lose. What was the possible use of hiding or misleading each other?

“If I was going to choose one man to spend my life with, it would be you. I like everything about you.”

He liked that a hell of a lot. More than he realized. “I feel the same way about you,” he admitted, forcing himself to take another bite of the delicious chicken. He made himself taste it. Savor it. Because she’d made it for him. That felt a lot like caring. He knew, because that was the way Nonny’s food tasted. He knew, absolutely, that Shylah had taken special care to make this meal for him. Maybe she had because she thought it might really be his last, but she’d poured herself into it.

“Where would you want to live if we could live anywhere?”

He had never given that much thought. He sat back, chewing on the chicken and studying her face. It was slightly flushed. She was feeling the emotion underlying the intimate, revealing conversation they were having. Exchanging fantasies, but yet, they were real to him now because they all had her face. Her scent. He even had the taste of her in his mouth.

“I’ve gone all over the world and I know this sounds a little ridiculous, but I’ve fallen in love with the Louisiana swamp. It can be as hot as hell and humid like the tropics, but the beauty there is indescribable. I like the remoteness of it. The way a man can see what’s coming at him and yet disappear if he wants. You can get by if you need to, living off the land. It isn’t an easy life, but it’s a good one.”


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