Ghostly Game (GhostWalkers #19) Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: GhostWalkers Series by Christine Feehan
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Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 133531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 534(@250wpm)___ 445(@300wpm)
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“I wasn’t afraid in the least. I stayed a distance from the nest. It wasn’t as if I was going to climb ninety feet into the air and try to see their little chick. It was thrilling to share their space and hear them. I saw them bringing a howler monkey to the nest once. But I was there for their music.”

“I like that you heard music in them.”

His eyes were on her, his blue gaze intense, causing the invasion of butterflies all over again. The silver rings around the blue intrigued her. He had beautiful eyes, and he focused completely on her, making her feel as if she were the only woman in the world.

“I hear music in everything and everybody.” She was proud of herself for managing not to stutter when he was looking at her so intently.

“What do you hear in me?”

Her heart jerked. Her stomach did a slow somersault. She hadn’t been expecting that question. She should have. He seemed interested in everything. She pressed her lips together nervously. If she said the wrong thing and he was upset with what she heard, she might lose this connection before she had a chance to even explore it. She could always say they hadn’t spent enough time together, and she needed longer, but she didn’t like lying.

“Rory, you aren’t going to hurt my feelings. I’m interested in your artistic impressions of me, but if you feel that’s too personal for you to share, I’ll understand. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”

His voice was very gentle, so gentle tears burned behind her eyes. No one had ever spoken to her like that—as if she mattered. As if how she was feeling mattered. She had lived her life alone for so long she didn’t know how to react to kindness or caring.

“The last thing I want to do is offend you.” She did her best to keep her voice from trembling. When she opened herself to her surroundings to listen for music, the notes came to her easily. With Gideon, it was a blend of notes just like the impressions she had gotten of him. She had already placed the notes of the Harpy Eagle into his song. A hawk. A Great Gray Owl. Strangely, all predatory raptors and a wolf. She found the wolf note in him fascinating. All animals with a protective side.

She hummed each note softly, blending one into the next, ending on the wolf’s howl, calling his family to him. She lifted her lashes. “There’s more. Quite a bit of a blending, but those are the more prominent ones I hear in you. If I were going to create a song, I would start there.”

She was so going to write a song about him. Never, not in a million years, would she ever show it to him or anyone else, because it would be her first love song, but she was writing it. She was already hearing it in her mind. She wasn’t certain she’d be able to sleep until she at least started the music. Thank heavens she had a fresh supply of notebooks stashed in her room.

“You’re amazing. Honestly, Rory, that was one of the most extraordinary assessments of my character I’ve ever heard, and you did it in just a short time after meeting me.”

Rory felt color slipping up her neck into her cheeks. He sounded sincere. His gaze continued with that intense focus, the blue of his eyes deepening and the ring of silver brightening so that it appeared to be a true silver and not an anomaly.

She forced a smile. It had been terrifying to give a true rendition of what she actually heard when she listened to her artist’s soul. “I thought it was beautiful, but that didn’t mean you would. I’m glad you weren’t offended. I hear a blend of sounds with you. Power. Danger. Kindness. Protection. The notes move in and out. Usually there are street notes blending with people.” She heard them faintly with him, but she didn’t get that it was the biggest part of him.

She heard other notes she wasn’t going to mention. The sound of bullets. Those were prominent in the music surrounding him. She wanted to take that out when she was alone and assess the sound of it. Combat? A war he had fought in? That discussion could take place at a different time, when they knew one another better.

His smile took her breath. It wasn’t much of a smile. It didn’t really reach his eyes, but it did curve his lips. He had chiseled lips. She had a strange need to rub her finger along his bottom lip, but then she wanted to do the same with his angular jaw and the rest of his sharply carved features. She felt it was important to learn every feature, commit him to memory with the pads of her fingers, as if she could imprint him on her soul. He was already there through the music, but she still wanted that physical touch.


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