The sparks of unexpected passion ignite in this electrifying GhostWalker novel from #1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan.
When Malichai Fortunes attacks a problem, he does it full force--a habit that earns the GhostWalker a painful injury and a forced vacation in San Diego, California. With nothing but physical therapy on the horizon, Malichai is starting to get restless...until a striking blue-eyed blonde makes all his senses come alive.
Amaryllis is kind and warm and sees beyond Malichai's rough exterior, but he can tell there's something she's hiding. Her innate healing abilities indicate she might be a GhostWalker--albeit an untrained one. Malichai doesn't think their crossing paths is anything more than coincidence, but he can sense that one wrong word could send Amaryllis running.
When strange events at his temporary retreat put Malichai on high alert, he knows he won't be able to deal with the threat and keep his woman safe in his weakened state. But calling in his brothers means telling Amaryllis what he really is, and revealing that he knows the truth about her too...
Excerpt
Amaryllis
came up behind Malichai, not making a sound, another reason for him to think
she was a GhostWalker. With his head down, breathing deeply, he took her into
his lungs before he actually saw her. She also moved through the sand easily, whether
she walked, jogged or ran. She never stumbled or complained how difficult it
was. Running in sand was always a workout, yet she didn’t raise a sweat.
Amaryllis
put her hand on his back. “Are you okay?”
“Little
panic attack, nothing serious.” He answered her honestly. He tried to be as
honest as he could with her. “Sometimes, I worry that my leg isn’t going to
heal properly, and they’ll pull me. I’m a soldier. I don’t know any other life.
My family is my team. I know that sounds crazy, but I can feel these cracks
like spiderwebs spreading out over my bones.”
She
didn’t laugh at him or try to argue. “Really? You should have told me. Come sit
down on one of the lounge chairs.” She pointed to the chairs laid out along the
beach. “No one is up this early.”
He
straightened and looked out to the ocean, a smile forming. “Babe. Seriously?
What are all those nuts?”
“Surfers.
They aren’t going to care if we use a lounge chair. They wouldn’t know what to
do with one.” She took his hand and tugged.
It
was the first time she’d taken his hand instead of the other way around. He was
good with that and willing to follow her anywhere. She led him to a woven,
brightly colored lounge chair and had him sit, stretching out his legs.
“Don’t
make fun of me,” she said. “I’ve always been able to ‘feel’ what’s going on
inside a person. Their muscles or bones. Most people don’t believe me, but I
can.”
“Don’t
know why they wouldn’t believe you. It’s a known fact that some people are born
gifted. Do your worst.”
He
felt her gaze on his face. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at her. All
that made him want to do was kiss her. He framed her face with both hands.
“Don’t look so scared, honey. I believe anything you want to tell me because
you’ve always been honest with me.”
Her
gaze skittered away from his. He wanted to comfort her and tell her it didn’t
matter if she’d escaped from Whitney’s hellish experiments. Good for her. He
couldn’t do that because he wasn’t supposed to know about Whitney’s
experiments. He was a soldier on vacation.
She
indicated for him to pull up his loose track pants. He did so, reluctant for
her to see his leg, getting them just above his knee. The shots had ripped into
him from the side, tearing up his leg as if trying to open a zipper into muscle
and bone. The scars were raw and ugly, going all the way up to his hip.
Amaryllis
gasped when she saw the raw, shiny wounds. “Malichai. How did you survive
this?”
He
shrugged. “I was bleeding pretty bad and slapped field dressings on the worst
of the wounds to slow them down. My brother Rubin carried me to the helicopter.
He worked on me the entire time. I was lucky the doctors were there with blood
and whatever else they needed to keep me alive until they could land. Ezekiel,
my oldest brother, operated on me. He was able to keep me from bleeding out
until we got the orthopedic surgeon. Even then, it was a bit of a fight.”
He
downplayed it but had the feeling she knew that was what he was doing. If Rubin
hadn’t been a psychic surgeon, he would have been dead. Had they not had his
blood on hand he wouldn’t have made it. There were a million things that could
have gone wrong for him. He’d been lucky.
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