Ruthless Game by Christine Feehan

Rose. This is no time to start acting like a woman. Get your ass down to the street and do what I say. Obviously, yelling didn’t come across as well using telepathy. Intimidation and absolute command just didn’t have the same ring, he could tell by her total lack of reasoning.
    Sadly for you, you have no authority over me. Get your own ass down to the street. I’m not trading your life for mine when I know we both can make it out of here. Just because you have to turn control over to me for a few minutes, you can’t take the chance, and that’s just stupid.
    Kane scowled at her—his blackest, most fierce scowl. Every man he knew backed up when he gave them that look, but she just stood there, barely coming up to his sternum, looking like a little doll. He swore under his breath. We don’t have time for this.
    No, we don’t. I suggest you get moving.
    She was going to be the biggest pain in his ass. They really didn’t have time to argue, and it was evident by the stubborn look on her face that she would stand there until hell froze over. One of them had to be reasonable.
    Cursing, Kane went over the side of the building, keeping to the darkest areas, slamming the stars deep so she could have an easier climb. With every crack he found for his fingers and toes, he swore—and there were a lot of cracks in the old building. There was a reason men didn’t go into combat with women. Rose was a prime example. Stubborn as hell. Illogical. Completely illogical. This was the last time she was going to refuse to listen to him. And it sure as hell was the last time she was going into a combat situation.
    He made it to the ground and turned back to catch her around the waist. At once he realized how pregnant she was. For some reason, she just didn’t seem that big until he touched her. Then he had the feeling she had a beach ball under her shirt. He set her down gently and swept her beneath his shoulder, holding her close just for a moment. He didn’t know if she needed the comfort or if he did, but she didn’t move, her arm slipping around his waist, her head resting on his chest.
    We’ll make it, Rose, he reassured. Do your thing, and let’s get out of here.
    Rose straightened with a brief nod of her head. I’ll need you to stoop a little. Slump down so you’re a little shorter and stay very close to me. Just follow my lead. I’ll get us through the crowd.
    Kane swallowed his protest. He’d asked her to put her faith in him more than once. Why was it so damned hard to turn over control to a woman? Hell. He’d gotten her pregnant in a place where she had no choice, knowing Whitney would take her baby from her and use it for his experiments in his quest to make the perfect supersoldier. She’d given him her trust when he didn’t deserve it. He owed her. Taking a breath, he nodded and slouched, moving very close to her, one arm around her waist.
    They stepped out onto the street, into the mass of people. Rose walked hesitantly, as if each step was difficult. He tried not to notice the stains on her clothes, but even in the dark he could spot the blood spatter. Lighting was poor, but if anyone examined her, they couldn’t fail to see the spots. Families clung to one another, fear on their faces as men with guns searched their homes. He and Rose moved with infinite slowness through the throng. His heart pounded, and he avoided eyes.
    Halfway to the truck, Rose stopped abruptly, hunched over with both hands on her obviously swollen belly, panting. If he hadn’t known she was acting, he would have panicked. An older woman murmured to her in Spanish, asking questions. Rose replied in a gasping voice that she was too early, and the labor was intense.
    The older woman marched up to one of the cartel sentries and whispered to him. It was evident she knew him. The man looked annoyed and shook his head twice, but the older woman persisted.
    You deliberately stopped in front of her, Kane guessed.
    That’s her son. She’s