Expecting the Boss’s Baby by Christine Rimmer Page B

trail and whipped out his hunting knife.
    By then, she had managed to turn and face him. The snake started hissing, a loud, ugly sound. “Here,” she said, her voice straining as she tried to control the powerful coils. He realized she had a hold of the neck, right below the extremely large head, in both hands. “Cut here…”
    He stepped up, grabbed the snake a foot below herclutching fists and sliced that sucker’s head clean off. Blood spurted and the thunderous hissing stopped. He felt the spray on his face. The snake’s powerful tail whipped at him, strongly at first and then more slowly.
    Zoe held on to the detached head, whimpering, muttering to herself, “Eeuuu, icky, sticky. Yuck!” as he dropped the long, thick scaly body and it gradually went limp.
    It shocked the hell out of him, to watch her lose it. Up till then, she’d been a model of determined cool and unbreakable self-control. “Zoe…”
    â€œOh, God. God help us. Oh, ick. Oh, help….”
    He gaped at her, disbelieving. And then he shook himself. She needed talking down and she needed it now. And he was the only one there to do it. He spoke softly, slowly, “It’s okay, Zoe. It’s okay. It’s dead.”
    She went on whimpering, muttering nonsense words, clutching the severed head of the reptile, as though she feared if she let it go, it would snap back to life and attack her all over again.
    â€œZoe. Zoe, come on. Let go.” He caught her wrists in his hands. “It’s dead. It can’t hurt you anymore. You can let go.”
    With a wordless cry, she threw the snake’s head down and hurled herself at his chest.
    He tottered a little on his bad ankle but recovered, steadied himself and wrapped his arms around her. Gathering her good and close, he stroked her hair, whispering, “Okay, it’s okay…”
    She buried her face against his shoulder, and huddled against him, trembling. “I was so scared. So damn scared…”
    He kissed the top of her head without even stoppingto think that maybe he was crossing the line. Right then, there was no line. Only her need to be held—and his, to hold her. “I know, I know. But it’s over now.”
    â€œYou’re right. Over. It’s over, it’s okay…” Slowly, she quieted. The shaking stopped. She lifted her head and looked up at him. He saw the gleam of her eyes through the gloom.
    He wondered if she’d been bitten. The snake was a boa, he was reasonably sure. Their bites weren’t deadly, but they could hurt like hell. He asked, carefully, “Were you bitten?”
    She shook her head. “No. Uh-uh. It just, it was so strong, slithering around me, tightening….”
    He felt her shudder and hurried to remind her, “But it’s dead now.” He spoke firmly, “Dead.”
    â€œDead. Yes.” She nodded, a frantic bobbing of her head. And then she blinked. “Do you know how many times I walked this path while you were so sick?”
    He captured her sweet face between his hands, held her gaze and didn’t let his waver. “Don’t. No what-ifs, remember?”
    â€œBut I—”
    He tipped her chin higher, made her keep looking at him. “No. Don’t go there. You’re safe and we won’t go to the river, or even into the trees, except together from now on. If one of us is in danger, the other will be there, to help deal with it.”
    â€œOh, Dax…”
    He didn’t think, didn’t stop to consider that he wasn’t supposed to put any moves on her, that she had great value to him and they had certain agreements, the main one being hands off.
    It just seemed the most natural thing to do. The right thing.
    The only thing.
    He lowered his head and she lifted hers.
    They met in the middle. He tasted her mouth, so soft, still trembling, so warm and needful—needing him. She sighed and her breath