Page 14 of Atlanta Heat (Tempting SEALs 6)

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 b

lew 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.

“You’re losing your game.”

He lifted his gaze to her face, his eyes meeting her narrowed ones.

“My breasts aren’t part of your game, Macey. You just lost.”

A distant virtual explosion sounded behind him as she moved away. Macey sighed dejectedly and turned back to the computer. Oh well, the game was just there to hide his activities, not to actually win. He’d already beaten that sucker months ago anyway.

He swiveled around in his chair to watch as she moved across the room to the kitchenette. She was wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of his sister’s cotton sleep leggings and socks. Damn, she looked too young to be here, too young for the thoughts running through his brain.

He watched her ass as she reached up into a cabinet and pulled out a bowl. His teeth clenched in an effort to maintain control as the twin cheeks bunched and rippled when she moved back to the stove and filled the bowl with chili.

When she turned, his gaze was lifted innocently to her face as he fought every male instinct to drop his eyes to those pretty unbound breasts again.

SHE COULD HAVE HIM, a little voice reminded Emerson. How many times over the past two years had he let her know just how easily she could have him?

“So when can I get out of here and back to my life? Any news yet?”

“What’s the hurry? Do you have someone besides the admiral waiting for you on the outside?”

She didn’t like the tone of his voice, didn’t like the friendliness in it, or the silent invitation to spill her guts to him. She had no secrets; she had no reason to feel sorry for herself.

“I have a full life.” She shrugged easily.

“And an empty bed.” His voice lowered, the black velvet tone stroking over her senses as he moved toward her.

“My bed is none of your business, Macey. When I want a man there, I have no trouble filling it.”

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