Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
“I’ve got all kinds of ideas for your silk.” He started on the dishes.
Shylah made a move to rise. It really wasn’t fair that he was doing everything. He sent her a smoldering look that stopped her in her tracks. She decided she really was tired and lay back down. The moment she closed her eyes, he began to hum. He could carry a tune and it was comforting to lie there, listening to the rattle of the dishes, the fan cooling her hot skin, and her eyes closed.
When he slipped into bed beside her, his body curving around hers, she pressed her lips to his throat. “Thank you for the most fantastic day of my life. I love being your wife.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead and then rolled her to her other side so he could wrap his arm around her, right under her breasts. His hips cradled her bottom, his cock pushing against the seam of her soft cheeks, a tight fit, but he managed.
“We’re going to be fine, you know that, right? If we were going to die, I’d already be dead. This virus was killing too fast in the village for anyone to get out. It’s been too many days. We’re going to make it.” He tightened his arm around her.
Shylah didn’t respond. What was there to say? He was either right or wrong. Worrying didn’t make it any better. She let herself drift off with the scent of him in her lungs, with the knowledge that she was loved in her head and heart. She woke just before dawn and got down to work, showing him new techniques and driving him right out of his head. Satisfied that he knew she really should be the one in charge, she drifted off again, this time smiling with the taste of him in her mouth.
They woke to pounding on the door. Both were fast, bringing up weapons and sweeping the room. Draden signaled for her to move into a position to take the shot if necessary, forgetting completely that she was running the day-to-day operation. That made her want to laugh, but she stayed completely still, fading into a corner, not a stitch on, watching as Draden stood to one side of the door.
“Need blood, you two!” Joe yelled.
“On my honeymoon,” Draden called back. “Go away. We’re a little busy.” He beckoned to her and pointed to a spot in front of him.
She gave him her snippiest look. He wanted to run the show; he wasn’t going to get two surprises in the same day.
“I don’t care. Give me your damn blood before Trap drives us all crazy. He’s got everyone in an uproar because the two of you are fighting this thing like there’s no tomorrow.”
17
Trap’s face came into view of the camera right beside Wyatt. The entire GhostWalker team still in Indonesia stood shoulder to shoulder behind them. It was impossible to read Trap’s expression, but the others were grinning ear to ear and Draden suddenly felt as if his legs had been swept out from under him. He pulled Shylah to him, standing behind her, arms wrapped around her, relief shaking him to his core.
Trap cleared his throat several times, and only then did Draden see the emotions trying to escape. “Looks like you two are going to live.”
Cheers broke out behind Trap, his team going a little crazy.
Draden took a breath. Drew air into his lungs because he felt dizzy, the relief totally overwhelming. “Sweetheart.” He whispered it against her neck. His wife. His woman. He would have time with her. They’d beaten the odds.
His eyes burned, and she turned her head to look at him. There were answering tears in her eyes. They just looked at each other. Drank each other in. The sounds of the GhostWalkers faded away until it was just them. Draden and Shylah. “We’ve got that lifetime, baby. We asked for it and we got it.”
He kissed her. The perfection of the moment, the profound understanding that for the first time in his life, he was handed the prize. Life. Not just life, but living with Shylah.
“Baby.” He whispered the endearment softly, love welling up.
“I know,” she whispered back. “I can’t take it in, but I know what you’re feeling. I can barely breathe.” Her voice trembled. Soft little tremors went through her body. She was trying to take in the miracle as well.
“We’re going to leave you two alone,” Wyatt said. “We have to keep taking blood over the next forty-eight hours to satisfy every requirement to declare you free of the virus and to make the point to every organization and government we answer to that you are not carriers.” Wyatt still sounded a little choked up, and that drew Draden’s attention.
“Wait, how?”
“They used a hemorrhagic virus as a base in order to infect Shylah, one that kills cats,” Trap said. “It stands to reason that they’d look at it, because she has cat gene-editing. That virus does have a success rate of survival, which they’d need if she came back to them infected. They tried it on her and it didn’t make her sick at all, so they kept screwing around, trying to make it more and more potent. That was the first five vials of her blood you discovered. Each time they tested a version, they’d mutated. Her immune system was far too responsive, so they went a little crazy and then realized they had a biochemical weapon on their hands. Because you both have the same gene-editing, it allowed both of your immune systems to defeat the virus, and now you have the antibodies that we need to make a vaccine.”