AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’ll settle for the ability to return to my apartment. Do that for me, Macey, and you’ll have my eternal gratitude.”
“That and more,” he stated, moving back through the kitchen to his computer. “I promise you, Emerson, I’m going to have that and more.”
chapter 5
he was falling for her. Three days later Macey sat hunched over his computer keyboard and tried to make sense of his own tangled emotions.
He knew he cared too much for her; hell, he had known that for the past two years. He dreamed about her, fantasized about her, and for the past two years hadn’t managed to find a single woman he wanted to fuck because none of them was Emerson.
The problem was, he didn’t just want to fuck her. He wanted to give her tree houses.
And now he wondered: who would take Drack? That was sad. He’d had Drack since he was a boy. Hell, he loved that cold-hearted reptile and would have laughed at the idea of giving him up because a woman was scared of him. But instead of laughing, his first instinct was to find Drack a home, because his heart, his soul warned him that an anaconda had no place within a family.
Family.
Geez, the admiral would put a bullet between his eyes if he even suspected what Macey was thinking, wouldn’t he? Or had he already suspected it?
And God forbid if Emerson should suspect. But the fact was, she belonged to him. Didn’t matter what the admiral thought about it, didn’t matter the price to be paid. Though he somehow suspected the admiral was a step ahead of him here.
Emerson fit him, and he was going to make damned sure she understood that he fit her, too, before this was over.
And for the time being he was going to thank God that the admiral couldn’t get ahold of him.
Complete communications blackout meant no messages transmitted to or from the team, Admiral Holloran, favorite friends, family, or associates of the dark and shadowed variety.
The blackout meant freedom from the admiral. He wasn’t about to restrict his own freedoms, not when he needed information and he knew damned certain he was secure. And the information he was after pertained to the case; at least that’s what he told himself. He had no intentions of letting anyone know he was checking out Emerson. Especially not Emerson herself.
He turned his head toward the bedroom door again, smirked, and pulled up her FBI file. Hell, who could have guessed Miss Goody Two-Shoes had an FBI file? My my my.
Picture. Stats.
Hmm. No bra size, but he could guess that one.
A nice Macey handful. He looked at his hand, curled it just right, and felt his palm itch at the remembered feel of silky flesh.
Whew. Blowing out a hard breath, he shook his head and went back to the computer screen while keeping a careful ear out for the opening of the bedroom door.
Okay, FBI file. She even had a low-level security clearance. He scratched at his jaw, his eyebrows lifting as he scrolled down the screen and scanned the information. She worked for Diasonis, he knew that. The high-level programming, analysis, computer design, and integrations firm was a favorite with the Bureau.
He knew her college degree was in communications, design, and integration. As he read, he pursed his lips in surprise. She was good. She’d designed several integrated programs the Bureau was currently using. Nothing compared to those on his own personal setup, but he liked to think he had equipment the Bureau couldn’t touch.
He backed out of the Bureau’s files before heading into Diasonis. That was a little harder. The Bureau’s system was well known to him, its back doors as familiar to him as his own. Diasonis was a little more complicated.
He was working his way through the first pass when he heard the door. Damn. He backed out carefully, his fingers moving quickly over the keyboard as he exited the system, not that he’d managed to get in far, and cleared the program as she stepped into the living area.
“There’s chili on the stove.” He turned, tilted his head to the stove, and reactivated the virtual war game he had standing ready.
She glanced at the monitor and moved to the stove. “What time is it?”
“Nearly eight in the evening. You slept a long time, Em. Feeling rested?” He moved his player around a tree, collected a rocket launcher, and blew a tank to hell and back. A thousand points and no sound behind him.
He jerked his head around to take a quick look, and froze.
He blinked, eye level with breasts he dreamed about, covered in nothing but one of his T-shirts. She hadn’t been close to him in forty-eight hours. She had maintained distance, kept a wary eye on him, and ignored most of his questions and attempts at conversation.
She had been hiding, if only inside herself, and he knew it. For the time being, he had allowed her to hide. The nice thing about his cave was the fact that sooner or later she was going to have to acknowledge him, him and the sexual tension, not to mention the emotional tension rising between them.
Two years he had waited, and she knew it. Two years too long.
