Atlanta Heat by Lora Leigh Page B

glowering looks he and her godfather exchanged. She couldn’t worry about that; her godfather didn’t get along with anyone, with the exception of her.
    She couldn’t worry about the consequences Macey might face in the short term. Because she had come to realize days before that her godfather had been matchmaking for years. In his own less-than-courteous way.
    Macey would get over it. Because in a few short minutes Emerson had realized what mattered most to her and it wasn’t protecting her heart.
    Macey owned her heart. And he’d better be serious about her owning his, or she was going to make Pierce Landry look like a walk in the park.
    Macey belonged to her.

E LEVEN
    THE MURDERING SCUM-SUCKING BASTARD had killed Drack. Macey still couldn’t believe it. The snake had lived through one attack, years ago, by a burglar intent on stealing Macey’s electronics.
    At that time, the cave hadn’t existed, the computer setup hadn’t been as extensive, and Drack had been a full-grown anaconda. Macey had kept her locked in the computer room as an added precaution. Somehow, someone had gotten in and Drack had taken offense to a stranger in her territory. She had been very territorial.
    The snake had taken six shots that had creased her hide deep enough that Macey had to take her to the vet for an extended stay. Drack had never forgotten the scent of a gun, or its consequences. And now, she had died because of one.
    Snakes were unfeeling creatures, Macey knew that, but damn if he hadn’t been fond of her.
    But Emerson was safe.
    He looked down at her as she knelt by the couch, the first-aid kit beside him as she cleaned the wound in his side.
    “You need stitches.” She pressed a thick piece of gauze against his side, then pressed her forehead to his jean-clad leg.
    Wrapped in a sheet, her shoulders bare, her hair falling down her back, she was like a young goddess kneeling, beautiful and courageous.
    Macey buried his hand in her hair and bent his head to hers, despite the pain in his side.
    “I’m going to be fine, Em,” he promised softly against her hair. “It’s all over, baby. You’re safe. That’s all that matters to me.”
    She shook her head against his leg, and he realized that tears would begin falling soon. She had been brave and strong, but she would need to crash.
    He would take her out of here, take her to a hotel room in town, someplace bright and romantic, where he could lay her back in bed and hold her through the night. Let her get used to being safe again.
    “That’s not all that matters.” She lifted her head as he eased back, her expression pale and distressed, her sensual lips trembling. “I’m sorry. Macey, I’m so sorry. I should have told you …”
    He laid his fingers against her lips. “You tell me later, Em. When we’re safe. Where I can hold you.”
    “I love you, Macey. I’ve loved you for nearly two years. I love you so much that you terrify the hell out of me.” Her voice hitched as his arms easedaround her, pulled her against his chest, and felt his heart trip in joy.
    Burying his head in her hair, Macey closed his eyes, fighting back the need to run away with her and hold her until he heard those words enough to fill his soul. But he didn’t think he would ever hear it enough.
    “Landry bypassed your security.” Admiral Holloran stepped into the room, his voice scathing. “Emerson, sweetheart, Reno’s getting you some clothes so you can dress upstairs …”
    “There’s a bathroom under the stairs.” Macey jerked his head up and glared at the admiral. “She’s not going upstairs until I can go with her.”
    “Macey …” Emerson’s voice was edged with steel. It was the same tone his mother used on his father when she thought he was getting out of hand.
    “Don’t ‘Macey’ me, Em,” he told her gently. “When Reno brings your clothes out, you can dress down here. This was too close.” He touched her cheek, let his thumb run over her lips. “I came too