Книга - Aftershock

Aftershock
Jill Shalvis


THE EARTH MOVED…LITERALLY!If it hadn't been for the earthquake, Amber Riggs would never have made love to a perfect stranger. And no doubt about it, fire inspector Dax McCall was perfect! Who else could have taught her the meaning of passion at a time like that?AND NOW THE AFTERSHOCK…Still, when Amber ran into him a year later she wasn't sure how he'd react. She hadn't meant to keep the news from Dax…. But he'd been out of town, and she'd been sort of relieved. After all, how do you tell the perfect man he has a perfect baby girl with a woman he doesn't know from Eve?









Aftershock

Jill Shalvis





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15




1


T HE PLACE wasn’t what she expected. Though she was alone, Amber Riggs kept her features carefully schooled so that nothing in her cool, serene expression reflected dismay. Control was everything. A deal couldn’t be made to the best advantage without it, and she did love a good deal.

She got out of her car without checking her makeup or hair. She didn’t need to. It wasn’t vanity that told her she looked crisp and businesslike. It was just fact. Her careful facade was purposely created with clothes and makeup so that people took her seriously.

If she were vain, she’d still be basking in the glow from the write-up she’d received in this morning’s paper: “A go-get-’em real estate manager.” “Best in San Diego county.” “No one gets the better of Amber Riggs.”

Great for business, but the praise meant little. Amber loved her work, and because she did, she didn’t need anyone’s approval.

That’s what she told herself.

She looked at the deserted warehouse in front of her and frowned. As good at her job as she was, making money from this building would be like bleeding a turnip. It was too far out of town.

Still, stranger things had been known to happen. At least the owner hadn’t cared whether she found a buyer or a renter, and that would give her some options.

Her heels clicked noisily on the rough asphalt as she moved closer. The place was two stories and mostly brick, which gave it definite character. That was good. So was the basement that held the offices. She had to sigh as she noted the deterioration of the roof and the decay of the old brick walls. That wasn’t good. And no windows, which meant that the client she’d contacted this morning, the one who wanted to convert an older building into an antique mall, wouldn’t be happy.

She could fix that, Amber decided, by going inside and finding something interesting. Something that would appeal. This was her forte, turning the negative into the positive. Her fat bank account could attest to that. For a girl who’d left home exceptionally early with nothing but the shirt on her back, she’d done okay.

She took the key out of her purse and let herself in. Darkness prevailed, but always prepared, she again reached into her purse for the small flashlight she kept there. As she flipped it on and moved past the reception area into the even darker open warehouse, the silence settled on her shoulders eerily. She swallowed hard, losing a fraction of her iron-clad control.

The dark was not her friend. It was an old fear, from childhood, where she’d spent far too much time alone, afraid. Unwanted.

Dammit, not the self-pity again. She was twenty-seven years old. Maudlin thoughts about her past were unacceptable, and she promptly pushed them aside. Her flashlight shimmered, cutting a path across the huge empty place. The beam hardly made a dent in the absolute blackness, and more of her control slipped. Her palms became damp.

Determinedly, she lifted her chin, letting her logic and famed concentration take over. She was a grown-up. Yes, she was alone, but she wasn’t leaving until she’d scoped out the place carefully. She needed something to lure her potential client.

She wanted the deal.

She made it three quarters of the way across the place when she came to a door. Stairs, leading down. Good, the offices there would be a good selling point. Swallowing her discomfort around the intense, inky blackness, she bravely wielded her flashlight and went down the stairs, entering another large and even darker room.

A damp, musty smell greeted her.

An unnatural silence beat down, so did a terrible, heavy foreboding. In the strange stillness, Amber’s every nerve ending froze, rendering her incapable of movement.

In the distance, she thought she heard a male voice call out, but that couldn’t be, she was alone.

Always alone.

Suddenly a sound like savage thunder ripped through the room, and Amber decided to hell with control. To hell with the deal.

She wanted out.

That’s when the earthquake hit.

The unexpected violent pitch and roll of the ground beneath her threw her to the floor, hard. The earth came alive like some monster clawing its way out of hibernation.

Time ceased to exist.

The earth moaned and rocked. As she slid across the cold, concrete floor, her ears rang with the deafening sound. Her skin crawled with horror.

Then she slammed into an unforgiving wall.

Stars exploded into the darkness.

And the last thing Amber heard was her own terrified, piercing scream.



D AX M C C ALL loved driving. Loved the freedom of the wind ripping through his hair, the scent of autumn as the trees turned. Loved the eye-squinting azure sky.

Hell, he was feeling generous, he simply loved life.

The tune-up he’d done on his truck the night before had it running smoothly, and he took the time to enjoy the way it handled the unpredictable mountain roads of Point Glen.

He couldn’t have asked for a better day. Mother Nature loved Southern California, specifically San Diego county, and though it was nearly November, the breeze blew warm. Not a cloud marred the brilliant sky. And thanks to the Santa Ana winds, smog was nonexistent, leaving the air unusually clean and pure.

Sunday. His first day off in weeks. Not that he was complaining, he thought, cranking up the rock ’n’ roll blaring from the stereo. He loved his job, and knew he was the best damn fire inspector this county had ever seen. But the hours were ruthless, and ambitious as he was, even he needed brain-rest once in awhile.

The last few fires had really taken their toll. He’d just closed an arson case that had spanned two years and caused five deaths. Sometimes at night Dax would close his eyes and see the charred bodies. Worse, he could still see the expression on the family’s faces when he’d questioned them. Horror. Pain. Accusation. Sorrow.

Yeah, he needed a day off. Maybe even a vacation. He thought about the wildfires raging out of control in Montana. He could take some time and go help fight them. Not what most would consider a vacation, but in his heart, Dax was first and foremost a firefighter. When he’d turned investigator, he’d never given up his love of fighting fires. Every chance he got, he went back to it.

A shrill ring shattered the peace. Damn. Dax turned down the music and answered his cell phone with all the enthusiasm of a child facing bedtime.

“Better be good,” he warned, slowing his truck on the narrow two-lane highway as he came into a hairpin turn.

“Some greeting.”

Shelley, the oldest of his five nosy, overbearing, sentimental, affectionate sisters, had only one reason for calling.

“The answer is no,” Dax said.

Undeterred, she laughed. “Dax, honey, you don’t even know what I want.”

“Oh, yes, I do.” But he had to smile because he loved her. He loved all his sisters, even if they drove him crazy. “It just involves a teensy, weensy favor, right? Just a teensy, weensy desperate favor’for a friend?”

“She’s not desperate. ”

Yeah, right. “We’ve discussed this, remember? No more setting me up.” He’d told each of his well-meaning, meddling, older sisters that he refused to go out on any more blind dates.

So he was thirty-two and not married, it didn’t bother him any. It wasn’t as if he hurt for female companionship. But still, his sisters hounded him with friends. And friends of friends. And sisters of friends of friends.

He’d put his foot down long ago, but in their eyes he was still the baby of the family. A six-foot-two-inch, one-hundred-and-eighty pounder with the physique of a man who’d been a firefighter for nearly ten years before he’d become inspector.

Some baby.

“I’ve got to go, Shel,” he said, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder as he maneuvered the winding road.

“No, you don’t. You just don’t want me to bug you. Come on, Dax, your last date looked like a twenty-something Dolly Parton and spoke in that stupid whisper no one could understand.”

He felt only mildly defensive. Why dispute the truth? So he was partial to blondes. Buxom blondes. Buxom, bubbly blondes, and last he’d checked, there wasn’t a law against that. “Hey, I don’t bug you about your dates.”

“That’s because I’m married!”

“You know what? I’ve got to go.” He simulated the sound of static through his teeth. “Bad connection.”

“Where are you?” she shouted, which made him grin and feel guilty at the same time.

“On Route 2, by the old mill.” Dax frowned as he slowed. Up ahead was the milling plant and warehouse. Isolated from town by at least ten miles and surrounded by woods, the place served little purpose.

It hadn’t been used in years. The land was on his list of dangerous properties, a potential disaster just waiting to happen. It was his job to keep properties such as these vacant of homeless people, mischievous teens and desperate lovers.

A small, sleek sports car was parked in front of it, empty. “Dammit.”

“Dax McCall!”

“Sorry.” He pulled into the lot. “Gotta go, Shel.”

“No, don’t you dare hang up on me’”

He disconnected and chuckled. She’d stew over that for at least half an hour before calling him back. Long enough, he decided as he got out of the truck, for him to hassle whoever was snooping where they shouldn’t.

The door to the building was locked, with no sign of damage or break in, which meant the trespasser had a key.

A real-estate agent.

He knew this with sudden certainty and shook his head in disgust. The bricks were crumbling. Some were missing. The place could collapse with one good gust of wind.

Who could possibly want to buy it?

And why would anyone go wandering around in it? Muttering to himself, he pounded on the door, waiting to face whatever idiot had decided to go into an unsafe building.

No one answered.

Curious now, Dax walked all the way around the building, calling out as he went, but only silence greeted him. Even the woods seemed empty on this unseasonably warm autumn day.

With a resigned sigh, he moved back around to the front, and examined the weak lock. “Juvenile,” he decided with disgust for whoever the owners were.

With a pathetic barrier like this, they were asking for trouble. It took him less than thirty seconds to break in. The large door creaked noisily as he thrust it open and peered inside. “Hello?”

Complete darkness and a heavy mustiness told him there was little to no cross ventilation, which probably meant no alternative exit.

It was every bit as bad as he’d thought’a hazardous nightmare.

He propped open the front door with a rock and entered. If no one answered in the next minute, he’d go back to his truck for a flashlight, but he figured by now, whoever had been inside would be more than happy to get out.

“County Fire Inspector,” he called loud and clear. “Come out, this place is dangerous.”

A door opened on the far side of the warehouse, and he frowned. “Hey’”

The door slammed. Swearing, he ran toward it, yanked it open.

Stairs.

Far below, he saw the flicker of a light and swore again. “Wait!” He stepped into the stairwell, angry at himself now for not stopping to get his own flashlight, because he couldn’t see a thing. “Stop!”

Those were the last words he uttered before the quake hit, knocking him to his butt on the top steel stair.

Born and raised in Southern California, Dax had experienced many quakes before. He considered himself seasoned. Still, it was unsettling to be leveled flat without warning, his ears echoing with the roar of the earth as it rocked and rolled beneath him.

The shaking went on and on and on, and he lost his bearings completely. He could see nothing, which disoriented him, and he hated that. Beneath him, the stairs rattled and shook violently. He held onto the rail for all he was worth, not even attempting to stand.

“Don’t give,” he begged as he clenched onto the steel for dear life. “Just don’t give, baby.”

At least a six-point-zero, he decided with some detachment, as he waited for the world to right itself again.

But it didn’t. He upgraded mentally to a six-point-five.

He heard a roar, then the crash of tumbling bricks, which was a bad thing.

Very bad.

As he ducked his head to his knees, protecting the back of his neck with his hands, heavy debris tumbled down around him.

A new fear gripped him then’the building couldn’t withstand the movement. The whole thing was going to go and, in the process, so was he.

Dax prayed fervently for the place, mostly the staircase that he sat clinging to, hoping, hoping, hoping, but with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew the ancient building couldn’t hold up to this kind of jarring.

It was going to collapse and there were two floors above him.

Dead meat sitting, that’s what he was.

A metallic taste filled his mouth and he realized he’d bitten his tongue, hard. Half expecting his life to flash before his eyes, Dax was surprised that all he could think of was his family. They wouldn’t know where to find his body, and that would destroy his mother.

His sisters would never be able to set him up again.

Then the bottom dropped out from beneath his world, and he fell.

And fell.

As he did, he heard a scream.




2


D AX LANDED HARD , on his already bruised butt.

The hit jarred him senseless for a moment, and the all-consuming dark further confused him. He remembered the destruction of the stairwell he’d been on and knew that meant big trouble when it came to getting out.

He also remembered the scream.

“Hello! Fire inspector,” he called out roughly. In the blackness, he quickly rose to his knees, then coughed and gagged on a deep breath of dust and dirt.

Not being able to see, he felt disoriented, but his professional training and innate need to help others quickly cleared his head. “Hello?”

“Over here!”

Female. Hell, he thought, scrambling as fast as he could over what felt like mountains of brick and steel. The collapsed stairwell, he realized. “I’m coming!” His lungs burned. “Where are you?”

“Here.” He heard her choke and sputter on the same dirt he’d inhaled. “Here!” she cried louder, just as he reached out and touched her leg.

“Oh!” Clearly startled, she pulled back.

But Dax was determined, and afraid for her. Had any of the falling debris struck her? Gently but firmly, he closed in, and feeling his way, streaked his hands over her.

She made an unintelligible sound.

“Where are you hurt?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he carefully and methodically checked her arms, silently cursing his lack of a flashlight. He ran his hands over her legs, during which he had the thought that even a saint’something he most definitely wasn’t’would have recognized what a fine set of legs they were. Long, lean, toned and bare except for a silky pair of stockings.

“Hey, stop that!” Hands slapped at him, and when he got to her hips, she went wild, scooting back and kicking out.

He caught a toe on his chin.

A toe that was covered in a high heel pump, if he wasn’t mistaken. And for the second time in so many minutes, he saw stars. “Stop, I won’t hurt you,” he told her in the same calming, soothing voice he’d used to placate hundreds of victims. No broken bones, thank God.

“Back off then.”

“In a minute.” He gripped her narrow waist in his big hands. “Are your ribs okay?”

“Yes! Now get your paws off me while I find my damn flashlight.” She shifted away from him, and then promptly let out a low, pained gasp at her movement.

Immediately he was there, reaching for her. “Let me,” he demanded quietly, running his hands up her waist, over each individual rib with precision and care. Nothing broken there, except his own breathing because there was something inexplicably erotic about touching a woman he’d never seen. Though he couldn’t see her, he sure could feel her, and she was something; all feminine curves, soft skin and sweet, enticing scent.

He felt her cross her arms over her chest, and as a result, the back of his knuckles brushed against the plumped flesh of her breasts.

At the contact, she made a strangled sound, then shoved him. “Not there!”

Her shoulders seemed fine, if a little petite, so did both arms, but he could feel the telltale stickiness on one of her elbows, which he’d missed before. Maybe it had just started bleeding.

Everything else vanished as his training took over. “You’ve cut yourself.” Concern filled him because they were dirty, with no immediate way out, and he had no first-aid kit. Infection was imminent.

“I’m fine.”

Her fierce independence made her seem all the more vulnerable, and as all victims seemed to do, she tugged at something deep inside him. So did her cool voice, because in direct contrast to that, he could feel her violent trembling. He ripped a strip of material off his T-shirt and tied it around her arm to protect the cut from more dirt.

She was still shaking.

“You okay?” Damn, he wished he could see her. If she went into shock, there was little he could do for her, and the helplessness of it all tore at him.

“I just want out of here,” she said, slightly less icily then before.

“Are you cold? Let me’” He reached for her, but she shifted away.

“I told you, I’m fine.”

It amazed him how calm she sounded. Dax’s sisters were all equally loved, but also equally spoiled rotten. They were never quiet, never calm. And certainly never in control. If a fingernail broke, if it rained on a new hairstyle, if Brad Pitt got married, the world came to an end.

It wasn’t a stretch for Dax to admit that the women he dated’and since women were a weak spot for him, he dated a lot’were much the same.

But this woman in front of him, the one he couldn’t see, could only feel, was an enigma to him.

Again, she pushed away.

He heard her struggle to her feet. “Hey, careful,” he urged.

“I’m not going to faint.”

The disdain in her voice told him what she thought of that particular weakness.

“I’m not,” she added to his silence. “I had a flashlight. I want it now.”

At that queen-to-peasant voice, he had to laugh. “Well, then. By all means, let me help you find it.” Stretching out, he felt his way along the floor, painstakingly searching for the light with his fingers. “You’re a hell of a cool cucumber, you know.”

“It was just an earthquake.”

“Yeah well, that was one hell of an earthquake.”

“Do you always swear?”

“Yes, but I’ll try to control myself.” His back to her, he closed his fingers over the flashlight. Though the bulb flickered and was nearly dead, it came on.

Looking at the situation before him, he let out a slow breath and swore again.

Coming up behind him, she made a sound of impatience. “I thought you were going to control yourself’ Oh. ” She paused. “This isn’t good.”

“No.” Grim reality settled on his shoulders like a solid weight as he surveyed the situation in the faint light before him. “Not good at all.”

The stairway was completely destroyed, lying in useless piles around them. There was no other entry into the basement where they stood, except the hole far above them. On the ground, directly beneath that opening, was a huge mountain of fallen brick and steel.

The pile previously known as the staircase.

There was no way out. They were literally buried alive.

“The entire building…it’s gone, isn’t it?” she asked softly, still behind him.

Dax thought about lying. It would protect her and his first instinct was always to protect and shelter, at any cost. But he already knew she wasn’t a woman to be coddled. “Looks that way.”

“We’re going to die.”

So calm, so matter-of-fact, even when he knew she had to be terrified. “We still have oxygen,” he said positively. “And the flashlight.”

That was when the damn light died.

In stunned silence, she drew an audible deep breath.

Reaching behind him, he groped for her hand. Surprisingly, she took it and held on.

“If the quake hadn’t slid us across the floor, away from the opening,” she said, her voice very sober, very small, “We’d be toast right now.”

Burnt toast, Dax thought, gently squeezing her fingers.

“Well, we’re not dead yet.”

Maybe not, but they would be soon enough. Tons of brick lay on top of the thin ceiling of the basement above their heads. They’d been saved only by the dubious strength of that protection. Dax had no idea how long the floor would hold. He didn’t imagine it could withstand the inevitable aftershock.

“Does someone know where you are?” he asked, carefully keeping his growing shock and dismay to himself.

“No.” Through their joined hands, he felt her shiver again.

He’d been in some hairy situations before, it was the nature of his job. He was good at saving his own behind, even better at saving others, but he thought maybe his luck had just run out.

Regret and rage threatened to consume him, but he wasn’t ready to give up yet. He drew in a ragged breath and nearly gagged on the lingering dust. “Come on, this is the hallway, there must be more rooms. They’ll be far cleaner than this, it’ll be easier to breathe.” And maybe there would be some sort of steel-lined safe they could crowd into for protection when the ceiling over their head collapsed, assuming they had enough oxygen to wait for rescue.

“There’s two offices, a bathroom and a small kitchenette,” she intoned. “Furnished.” She shrugged, her shoulder bumping against his. “I have the listing in my pocket.”

Dax wished the flashlight hadn’t gone out, wished that he’d gotten a look at the woman next to him before it had, wished that he’d eaten more for breakfast that morning than a bowl of Double Chocolate Sugary O’s.

“We’ll be fine.” She sounded secure, confident, despite her constant shivers. “We’ll just wait to be rescued. Right?”

Dax decided to let her have that little fantasy since he wasn’t ready to face the alternative, though he held no illusions’when the weight of the crumbled two stories above them came through the ceiling, they were as good as dead.

Feeling their way through the inky darkness, climbing and struggling, they left the hallway. It wasn’t fast or easy, and Dax kept waiting for the woman to falter or complain, or fall apart.

But to his amazement, she never did.

They decided they were in one of the offices, which after a bit of fumbling around, they discovered had a couch, a desk, two chairs and some other unidentifiable equipment. The second office was smaller, and from what they could tell, void of furniture. The kitchenette seemed dangerous, the floor was littered with fallen appliances and a tipped-over refrigerator.

There was no safe place to hide except back in the first office. Like a trooper, the woman stoically kept up with him as they made their way. He couldn’t help but wonder at her incredible control, and what had made her that way.



A DISTANT rumbling was their only warning, but it was enough for Amber, who reacted without thinking by throwing herself at the stranger who’d become her entire world. Later she’d be mortified by her lack of control, but at the moment control was the last thing on her mind.

As the earth once again pitched and rolled beneath their feet, the man snatched her closer and sank with her to the floor.

“Hurry,” he demanded, pushing her under what felt like a huge, wooden desk. He crawled in after her.

She had time to think the earth’s movement was slight compared to the other quake before he hauled her beneath him, sprawling his big and’ oh my ’very tough body over hers, protecting her head by crushing it to his chest.

Time once again ceased to exist as she closed her eyes and lived through the aftershock. Huddled in the pitch dark, Amber knew what the man holding her so tightly feared’as she feared’death. It could easily happen, right this second, and she waited breathlessly for the ceiling above them to give and crush them.

Unwilling to die, she held on, reacting instinctively by burrowing closer to the stranger’s warmth, his strength. He had both in spades and shared it freely.

After what seemed like years’she’d lost all sense of time’the rocking stopped.

She became aware of how close they were. How big a man he was, how every inch of her was plastered to every inch of him. A stranger.

She’d thrown herself at a stranger.

Mortified, she pushed at him. Immediately, he rolled off her and they lay there beneath the desk, separated by inches. Holding their breath.

Nothing crushed them. In fact, the silence was so complete it was nothing short of eerie.

“It held,” she whispered.

“Yeah.” In the dark he shifted, and she got the feeling he was staring at her. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

No one had ever called her such a thing before. “Why?”

“You’re so calm. No panic.”

“You didn’t panic,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but…”

“But I’m a woman?”

“I’m sorry.” There was a reluctant smile in his voice. “But yes, because you’re a woman I guess I expected you to wig out over that one.”

With hard won habit and sheer will, she never wigged out. Not Amber Riggs. She had too much control for that. The master himself had taught her the art. Her father had demanded perfection from her, and total submission.

He’d gotten it.

The fact that her cold, hard, exacting military parent could still intrude on her life, especially at a time like this, where every last moment counted, really infuriated her. She shoved the unhappy memories aside.

“I like control,” she said, and if her voice was tinged with steely determination, she couldn’t help it. She was proud of her cool, sophisticated front. It certainly hadn’t come easily. How many times had she been told she mustn’t be like the mother she’d never known? The mother who’d been wild and uncontrollable before she’d taken off after Amber’s birth?

A slut, her father liked to remind his daughter.

No, Amber must never be like her.

Little chance of that when she’d grown up with no maternal influence to soften her strict, unbending father. Once upon a time, she’d done everything in her power to earn his approval, but it had never come. She’d learned to live without it.

She didn’t need his, or anyone’s, approval.

As a result, her life was quiet, and okay, maybe a bit sterile, but she’d convinced herself that was how she wanted it. She didn’t need anyone or anything, and she especially didn’t need what she secretly felt unworthy of’ love.

Instead, she buried herself in the one thing that would never hurt or disappoint her’her work’and she liked it that way.

So what was that stab of regret she felt now, while she lay waiting to die? What was this terrible sadness coursing through her, this certainty that by ignoring all emotion and passion in order to succeed at her work, she’d somehow let life pass her by?

She was single; no husband, no children. Not even a boyfriend or a casual date. A barren woman with a barren life.

What would it be like to have a man waiting for her right now, worrying over her? Loving her with all his heart and soul?

She’d never know now.

Another rumbling came.

Before she could react, the stranger was there, again yanking her close into the heat and safety of his arms. He had big, warm hands and they settled at her back, soothing and protective.

This quake felt much slighter, a huge relief. But it allowed other things to crowd Amber’s brain besides fear.

Things like the man she was glued to.

She could feel the fierce pounding of his heart, feel his large hands gently cup her head, feel the tough sinew of his hard body as it surrounded hers. The weirdest sensation flooded her.

Arousal, she realized in shock.

Good Lord, one little emergency and she started acting like her mother!

She couldn’t believe it, and promptly blamed the circumstances for her shocking lack of control. But the connection between her and this man felt like ice and fire at once, and it baffled her. Danger, she told herself. It was just the danger, the sense of impending death making her feel like this, all liquidy and…well, hot.

“It’s okay,” he whispered in that incredible voice, the one that made her feel like melted butter.

She couldn’t have it, wouldn’t have it, and yet she couldn’t seem to let go of him. A whimper sounded, and she was horrified to realize it was her own.

Needing to be free, she fought him.

“Shh, you’re all right,” he told her when she struggled against both him and the unaccustomed feelings swimming through her. With frightening ease, he lay her back on the ground, easily subduing her.

Above them came the booming sound of more falling brick, and it was louder, more terrifying than Amber could imagine. The falling debris hit the top of the desk that was protecting them, nearly startling her right out of her own skin.

They were going to die now.

She had to get out. But she couldn’t budge, he held her too close, protecting her body with his.

“Don’t fight me,” he coaxed in her ear. “We’ve got to stay right here.”

“No,” she gasped, wrestling, listening to the noise of the building crumbling to dust around them, feeling the heat of him as he held her safe no matter how she fought him.

Didn’t he understand? She’d lost it, her prized control was gone, and the greater danger lay right here, in his warm, strong arms. “I need out!” she cried.

“You can’t.” Regret made his voice harsh, but so did determination as he leaned over her, cuffing her hands over her head, restraining her with his superior strength.

“Listen,” he demanded as she silently fought him with everything she had. “Listen to me!” He gave her a little shake. “The building has collapsed on top of us. If you leave the safety of the desk now, when the ceiling of this basement gives…”

Not if the ceiling collapses, but when. He didn’t have to finish his sentence, but God, oh God, she couldn’t bear it, this enforced contact between them. She was plastered to him from head to toe and the opaque blackness only added to the sense of intimacy.

“It’s stopped,” he murmured, relieved, and she felt his cheek brush against hers. “It’s over.”

She waited with what she considered admirable patience, but he didn’t let her go. “Get off me.”

“Promise me you won’t do something stupid.”

Stupid. Oh, that was good. They were going to die when she’d never really even lived. She had nothing to show for her life, nothing except for what would soon be a useless bank account. Now that was stupid. “Let me up.”

“Not until you promise you won’t disturb the balance of things.”

Still helplessly stretched out beneath him, she shifted and discovered he had one powerful leg between hers. Every time she moved, the core of her came in contact with the juncture of his thighs.

She’d been too busy trying to get free to pay much attention, but suddenly she realized she wasn’t the only one who was affected by their closeness.

He was aroused.

He was actually hard, for her. It seemed so absolutely amazing. Surreal.

Later she would blame age-old instincts, but whatever it was, it made her hips arch slightly.

In response, he made a dark sound that shot an arrow of heat straight through her. This was life, came the insane thought.

Go for it. Take it.

She moved against him again, tentatively.

He muttered something; a curse, a prayer, she had no idea which, and at the sound, blind desire overcame her. Before she could stifle the urge, she pressed even closer.

“Your name,” he demanded, letting go of her hands to slide his down her arms. “I need to know your name.”

“Amber.”

“Daxton McCall. Dax.” His hands came up now to cup her face, and a callused thumb brushed over her lips, so lightly she wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but it gave her a jolt of awareness that was almost painful.

Suddenly her world was rocking and she was no longer certain if it was another earthquake or just reaction to the insane sexiness of his voice, his body.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered.

She couldn’t stop.

“Let me warm you.” Gently, tenderly, he scooped her closer, running those big, sure hands over her spine to her hips, bringing her tight against his delicious heat…his incredible erection.

It was wrong to sigh over it; so very, very wrong, snuggling up to a man she’d never even seen. A stranger for God’s sake.

But for the life of her, she couldn’t pull away.

She needed this, desperately. Needed this reaffirmation that they were indeed alive, at least for now.

She was going to live life to the fullest, she promised herself. Every second she had left.

But as a huge thundering crash echoed around them, she couldn’t help but scream.

The walls shook, the ceiling shuddered, and they clung together, holding their breath, waiting, waiting, each second an eternity.

No more chances. This was it.

They were going to die.




3


T ERRIFIED , Amber cried out for her stranger, her Dax McCall. She had no idea what she wanted to say, but in that moment, with their world coming apart, it didn’t matter.

He understood. “I’m here, right here,” he told her, his body close so she couldn’t forget.

“It’s so loud,” she cried, horrified at how weak she sounded.

“You’re not alone.”

“I’m scared.”

“Me, too.”

“I need…”

“I know. I do, too. Come here, come closer.” And he enclosed her in a tight embrace that was so erotically charged, she could almost forget she lay huddled beneath a desk on cheap flannel carpeting in the basement of a building that had collapsed above them.

Her face was buried in his neck, and because it was so warm, so indelibly male, she left it there, inhaling deeply the very masculine scent of him. “We’re going to die,” she said against his skin.

She felt him shake his head.

His denial was sweet, but she didn’t want to be protected, not from this. “Tell me the truth.”

“I don’t want to believe it.”

“Neither do I.” It was unlike her to talk to a stranger, much less cling to one. Even more unlike her to admit to her real feelings on anything. But the words poured from her lips before she could stop them. “I don’t want it to end like this. It can’t. I’ve never really lived, not once, it can’t be too late!”

He didn’t say anything about the loss of her calm, cool sophistication, for which she thought she might be forever grateful. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all, he just continued to touch her, maintaining the connection between them.

“Dax, I think’”

“Don’t think.”

“But there’s so much’”

“Don’t.”

“I can’t stop. I can’t turn it off.”

“You’re shaking again.” In his voice was a wealth of concern and compassion, two emotions sorely missing in her life. He worried. He didn’t even know her, and he worried. Just thinking about it had her eyes misting.

How was it that a stranger could care so much for her in such a short time, when no one else ever had?

That was her own fault, and she knew it. Another regret. She didn’t let people in, didn’t let people care. Things had to change.

Starting right now. “I want to live.”

“You’re thinking again.”

“I can’t stop.”

“Let me help.”

“Yes.” Anything.

“Try this…” He angled her head up and met her lips with his.

Far above them, the ceiling groaned and strained under the weight of debris. The ominous, ever-present creaking got louder.

In opposition to Amber’s surging, very real fear, Dax’s kiss was soft, gentle, sweet.

“Stay with me,” he whispered against her lips.

His warm, giving mouth was heaven, such absolute heaven, that she gradually did just as he asked, she stayed with him, lost herself in him, drowning in the very new sensation of desire and passion.

A sound escaped her, a mere whisper of the pleasure starting to thread through her body. He soothed and assured, both with that magical voice and even more magical hands, kissing her again and again, until shyly, eagerly, she opened to him, only to jerk at the resounding thunder of more falling debris.

“Shh, I’m here,” he murmured, then dipped his head again.

The shock of his tongue curling around hers was a welcome one, and Amber pressed closer, grateful, desperate for more of the delicious distraction. One of his hands continued to cup her face, stroking her skin, the other drifted down her body, curving over her bottom, squeezing. He rocked her slowly, purposely, against his hips.

But when the ceiling made yet another terrible straining sound, she cringed.

“No, don’t listen to that.” Now his clever mouth was at her ear, his words sparking little shivers down her spine. “Stay with me, remember?”

As their world crumbled around them, Dax was right there, commanding her attention, drawing her out of her fear. “Listen to the blood pound through your body,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her temple. “Listen to the sound of our breathing…do you hear it? Do you?” he urged, willing her to let go of the terror to concentrate on what he was making her feel.

It worked, and when she felt his hot, wet mouth on her skin, she gasped and arched up into him.

“Listen to your body craving mine….”

Oh yes, yes she heard it now, the blood whipping through her system as he tasted her. She heard the sound of his low, rough groan when she writhed against him. Knowing she was causing his harsh, ragged breathing gave her an incredible sense of power. “More,” she begged. “Help me forget that we’re going to’”

Die, she’d been about to say, but he simply swallowed the word and kissed it away. He kissed her mouth, her face, her throat, all the while using his hands to stoke the fire. Her blouse fell open beneath his hands, and he treated her breasts to the same glorious magic, sucking and nibbling and stroking her nipples until she begged for more.

The rest happened so fast that afterward she could never fully recall it except as a hazy, sensuous, haunting dream. She tore open his jeans; he shoved them off his hips. He slid his hands up her skirt, groaning when he came to her thigh-high stockings, her one secret luxury. She might have spared a moment for embarrassment, but then he whipped off her panties and slipped his fingers between her thighs, dipping into her wet heat. Touching, stroking, claiming her until she couldn’t think of anything but getting more.

Penetration wasn’t easy, it had been a pathetically long time for her, but Dax slowed, teasing her aching, swollen flesh with his knowing fingers until she was ready to take him. He was huge, hot and throbbing inside her. Unbearably aroused, Amber tossed her head back, lifted her hips and sobbed as unfamiliar sensations rocketed through her. She was on the very edge, teetering, madly trying to regain her balance, but he didn’t allow it.

“Let it happen,” he whispered, his fingers teasing and urging and tormenting. “Come for me, Amber. Come for me now.”

The pleasure was so intense she couldn’t have held back if she’d wanted to. She was wild, completely out of herself, as the orgasm took her.

And took her.

It was endless. Above her, she felt him convulse, heard his hoarse cry, then they fell together, trembling, their hearts pounding violently.

Amber had no idea how much time passed before Dax lifted his head and stroked the damp hair from her face. “You okay?”

She thought about it and smiled. “Yes.” Crazy as it seemed, she was definitely okay.

Wrung out by their hollowing, grinding, shattering emotions, they dozed then, still locked in each other’s arms.



“A RE YOU TAKEN ?” The minute the words fell out of her mouth, Amber winced. Stupid. And if she hadn’t so neatly cut herself off from socializing all these years, she could have done better. “I mean’”

Besides her, Dax laughed softly. “I know what you mean. And no, I’m not married, I never would have made love to you otherwise.”

They’d made love. Good Lord.

And they’d had two more aftershocks. They sat side by side, still beneath the desk. Mortified as Amber was over what they’d done, Dax had refused to let her leave the safety of their meager protection.

“Not that I have anything against the institution of marriage in general,” he offered. “But I come from a huge family. Five meddling sisters and two equally meddling parents. Ten nieces and nephews. Tons of diapers and messes and wild family dinners.” She felt his mock shudder.

It had always been just her father and herself, so Amber could only imagine the sort of life he described. But family or not, she could understand his need to be alone, uncommitted. She herself was alone most of the time, and greatly preferred it to the alternative. Letting someone in meant letting someone have control over her, which was not an option.

She’d had enough of that to last her a lifetime; first with her father, who’d been almost maniacal in his desire to curb her every impulse, and then she’d repeated the cycle with her ex-fiancé.

She didn’t intend to make that mistake again, ever.

“I plan to settle down in another twenty years or so.” Dax’s voice had a smile in it. “Maybe when I’m forty. Just in time to have a double rocking chair on my porch.” Then his amusement faded away. “That’s my hope anyway.”

If I live.

His unspoken words hung between them. “They’ll worry about me,” he said after a moment, very softly. “I hate knowing that.”

She could hear the deep, abiding love he had for the people he cared about, and wondered what it would be like to know she was unconditionally loved that way.

“How about you?” he asked. “Who do you share your life with? Who’s missing you right now, worrying about you?”

She opened her mouth, but had nothing to say.

“What? Too personal?” He let out a little laugh and nudged her. “What could be more personal than what we’ve already done together? Come on, now. Share.”

“No one.”

“No one what?”

“There’s…no one.”

He was quiet for a moment. Probably horrified. “I have a hard time believing a woman like you has no one in her life,” he said finally, very gently.

It shocked her, the way he said “a woman like you.” His voice held admiration, attraction, tenderness.

Under different circumstances, she might have laughed. The truth was she’d been a wallflower nearly all her life. Only when she’d struck out on her own, ruthlessly devouring magazines and books on fashion and style, had her appearance changed so that no one could actually see that wallflower within her. To the world, she appeared cool, elegant, sophisticated.

Apparently she’d fooled him, too.

“Amber?”

“I think you know I don’t have a lover,” she said quietly. “Not recently anyway.” She ducked her hot cheeks to rest them against her bent knees. “No attachments.”

She could feel him studying her. Could feel his curiosity and confusion.

“There’s no shame in that.” He slid a hand up and down her back.

No, maybe not, she thought wearily. But there was in her memory. “I was engaged once,” she admitted. “Several years ago. It didn’t work out.” She didn’t add she’d discovered her fiancé had been handpicked by her father, drawn to her by the promise of promotion. That Roy had used her to further his military career, instead of really loving her as she’d allowed herself to imagine, had been devastating.

So had her father’s involvement.

Of course he’d been bitterly disappointed when she’d backed out of the arrangement. She’d failed him, and he’d made that perfectly clear.

Well, dammit, he’d failed her, too.

After that, Amber had hardened herself. Being alone was best. No involvement, no pain. She believed it with all her shut-off heart.

“I’m sorry.” Dax reached for her hand, but at the pity she heard in his voice, she flinched away.

“No, don’t,” he whispered, scooting closer, feeling for her face to make sure she was looking at him. “I’m sorry you’ve been hurt, but I’m not sorry you’re alone now.”

She had no idea what to say to that.

“Don’t regret what happened here, between us. I don’t.”

It was difficult to maintain any sort of distance when the man was continually touching her with both that voice and his hands. He was so compassionate, so giving, and he was doing his absolute best to keep her comfortable, all the while filling her with a traitorous sexual awareness.

For the first time in her life, she wondered if she’d judged her mother too harshly. It wasn’t a thought that sat well with her.

“Amber?”

That was another thing about him, he refused to let her hide, even from herself. “I won’t regret it,” she promised, knowing they were going to die anyway. “It would be a waste to regret something so wonderful.”

“Yes, it would.”

“I don’t want to die.” She hadn’t meant to say it, but there it was.

The words hung between them.

“The ceiling is holding,” he said after a moment. “The desk has protected us.”

Yes, but they would be crushed soon enough. The ceiling above them was still making groaning noises and no amount of reassurances or placating lies could cover that up. They knew from Dax’s careful exploring that one corner of the office had collapsed under tons of dirt and brick. They now had half the space they’d had originally.

Suddenly Dax froze.

“What’”

Dax put his fingers to her mouth. “Shh.” He sat rigidly still, poised, listening. “Hear that?”

She tried. “No.”

He surged to his feet, banging his head on the desk. He swore ripely, apologized hastily, then crawled out and shouted.

“What are you doing?” Amber demanded, fear clogging her throat. He’d get hurt, something would fall on him.

She’d be alone.

Always alone.

She didn’t want to die that way.

“Someone’s up there,” he told her with a shocked laugh. “They’re looking for us. Listen! ”

Then she heard it, the unmistakable shouts of people.

Joy surged.

She was going to live after all. She was going to get a second chance.

And thanks to Dax McCall, this time around she’d make the most of it.



I T TOOK HOURS to rescue them from the building, but eventually Amber was standing in the asphalt parking lot, blinking like a mole at the fading daylight.

Hard to believe, but they were okay. They were alive. And while they’d been trapped, life had gone on, business as usual.

Well, not quite. Southern California had suffered a six-point-five earthquake.

Amber turned to look at the small crowd of police officers and firefighters surrounding her perfect stranger, and she suffered her own six-point-five tremor.

Dax McCall was tall, lean and built like a runner. No, like a boxer, she amended, all sinewy and tough. Big. It was hard to discern the color of his hair, or even the tone of his skin, covered in dust as he was, but to her, he was stunningly, heart wrenchingly gorgeous.

He was her hero, in a world where she’d never had one before.

But that was silly, the stuff movies were made of, and she was mature enough to realize it. He was human, and she had no need for a hero in her life. Nor for a huge, warm, strong, incredibly sexy man. Still, she stood there, pining after him, allowing herself for one moment to daydream.

I plan to settle down, he’d said. In another twenty years or so.

She’d do well to remember that.

Yes, this had been an amazing episode in her life’literally soul-shaking. The way he’d held her, touched her, kissed her, as if she’d been the only woman on earth, was something she’d always remember.

But it was over now, and he wouldn’t want to cling to the moment. In fact, he was probably already worrying about how to let her down gently.

That wouldn’t be necessary.

Oh, he was kind, gentle, tender. Some woman had certainly taught him right. Probably many women. But Amber had no desire to be the flavor of the week, and he had no desire for more. He’d made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t into commitments. So really, there was only one thing to do, after she thanked him’cut her losses and leave.

Getting him alone proved difficult. Their rescuers had circled him and were deep in conversation, so she waited. Around her was the eerie silence of a regular day. Trees barely moving, sky clear and bright. Little traffic.

But it wasn’t a regular day. Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, more than she had while trapped in the basement, Amber knew she couldn’t stay another moment. Vowing to thank him in person later, after a hot shower, a good meal and a very private, very rare, pity party, she got into her car.

Taking control of her emotions and actions felt good. Still, her heart gave a painful lurch as she buckled in. Before Dax had finished giving his report to the police, she was gone, assuring herself she was doing the right thing by leaving.

A part of her, though, a very small part, knew the truth. On the outside, to the world, she was tough as nails and cool as a cucumber. Inside, where she allowed no one, she was one big, soft chicken.

And when she put her foot to the accelerator, it was the chicken who ran.




4


One year later:

D AX LED his very pregnant sister off the elevator of the medical center and headed toward the obstetrician’s office.

Suzette kept tripping over her own two feet, making him sweat with nerves. She was going to do a swan dive on his poor, unborn nephew or niece, he just knew it. “Please,” he begged, holding her arm tight, tempted to sweep her in his arms and carry her himself. “Be careful!”

“You’d trip, too, if you couldn’t see your feet.” But loving being pregnant, she grinned at him. “Don’t worry, I won’t go into labor on you.”

“I want that in writing,” he muttered, glancing at her huge, swollen belly. He’d delivered a baby before, during his firefighting days, when the paramedics hadn’t arrived in time. It had been miraculous, awe-inspiring…and terrifying.

“Oh relax.” Without mercy, Suzette laughed at him. “I feel great.”

“Relaxing around you is impossible.”

“Really, I’m fine. Except for a contraction every two minutes.”

Now he tripped, and she laughed again. “I love you, Dax.”

She kept smiling at him, with huge, misty eyes, and he immediately slowed, slapping his pockets for a tissue, knowing from past experiences she was going to get all sappy on him and cry. “Dammit, Suzette.”

“I’m fine. Really.” But she sniffed and blinked her huge, wet eyes. “You’re just so sweet. So much a part of my life. And sometimes I can’t help but think about how we almost lost you to that earthquake.”

Dax started to shrug it off, but she stopped, planted herself and her big belly in front of him, and said, “Don’t act like it doesn’t matter, don’t you dare. If you hadn’t been talking to Shelley just before you stopped to check out that building, no one would have known where you were. We never would have found you in time.”

Because she was getting herself worked up, and making him very nervous while doing it, Dax tried to soothe her. “It worked out okay’”

“You know darn well it almost didn’t! The ceiling of that basement completely collapsed on itself only an hour after they got you and that woman out.”

That woman.

It had taken him all year, but Dax had managed to steel himself against the white-hot stab of regret he always felt at the thought of Amber. The pain had finally, finally, started to dissipate.

“What if we hadn’t gotten to you in time?” Suzette demanded. “You could have died, Dax. And you’re my favorite brother.”

“I’m your only brother.”

Suzette just shook her head and sniffed again. But he was tired of obsessing about the earthquake, and what had happened between him and Amber. It had invaded his thoughts, his life, his dreams for too long now. It was over. Over.

“Those hormones are really something,” he said, but he handed her a tissue. “Aren’t you tired of crying yet?”

“Nope, it feels good.” A big fat tear rolled down her cheek. “Thanks for driving me here.”

“Just as long as Alan makes sure to get off for the birth. I am most definitely not available for the coaching job.”

He was teasing her and they both knew it. He’d do anything she needed, and for just an instant, for one insane little spurt in time, Dax thought maybe he wouldn’t mind being a coach at all.

“Someday this will be you,” she said softly, bringing his hand to her belly so that he could feel the wonder of the baby’s movement.

“Not in the near future,” he said, but he spread his fingers wide, feeling the miracle beneath; moving, growing, living.

“It will be,” Suzette promised. “Someday, some woman is going to snag you, make you forget why you like being single. Trust me on this.”

Without warning, the memory of lying huddled beneath a desk, waiting to die, holding the frightened but courageous Amber hit him, hard. That day he’d prepared himself for a hysterical, whiny female, but she had surprised him with her inner strength, her quiet resolve to survive.

He’d been drawn to her on a level he couldn’t have imagined. Compared to his wonderful but flighty sisters, and the wild bombshells he had an admittedly bad habit of dating, Amber had seemed like a startling breath of fresh air.

He’d wanted, badly, to see her face, and for the first time in his life, it hadn’t been to determine if she was as sexy as her voice. He’d wanted to look into her eyes and see for himself if the connection between them was as real as it felt.

In those terror-filled moments, when they’d been so certain the end had come, they’d come together in the dark; desperate and afraid, hungry and needy, joining together to make unforgettable, perfect love, without ever having set eyes on each other.

It had been poignant, amazing… necessary. As necessary as breathing.

The image of Amber exploding in his arms wasn’t new; it was never far from his mind. What they’d shared had been incredible, as soul-shattering as the earthquake had been, and he couldn’t forget it, no matter how hard he tried.

And yet Amber obviously had.

Despite his best efforts to find her, she’d vanished. He’d gotten an all-too-quick glimpse of her that day, and though she’d been nothing like the women he usually found himself attracted to, he’d thought her short, sleek, dark hair and even darker eyes the most beautiful he’d ever seen.

At first he searched so diligently for her because there was every chance he had gotten her pregnant. That he hadn’t used a condom was disturbing, he always used protection. But then again, neither of them had expected to live through the experience.

By the time Dax tracked her down’not an easy feat when he hadn’t even known her last name’she’d been gone. He’d located her office, only to be told she’d taken a leave of absence. She’d subleased her condo.

No forwarding address.

Inexplicably devastated, Dax had gone to help fight the wildfires in Montana. He’d been there a month, during which time his disgruntled secretary messed up his office good, and then took another job.

When he’d gotten back, there were no messages, but by then he hadn’t expected any from Amber.

She was long gone.

Clearly, she’d wanted no reminder of that one day they’d shared, which was fine. He had his own life, which consisted of work, women and fun. He hadn’t looked back.

Much.

“Let’s sign you in,” he said to Suzette now, shaking the memories off. “This place is packed.”



A MBER WAS LATE . Her alarm hadn’t gone off, she’d annoyed a client by running behind, and now she was stuck in traffic.

Definitely, a terminally bad day.

Normally she’d have felt weighed down by all the stress. She’d have fought it with breathing techniques and her famed cool control.

But fighting wasn’t necessary, because none of it was important. Her life had forever changed on that fateful day she’d gotten caught in the earthquake, and now all that mattered was Taylor.

She pulled into the medical center knowing if she didn’t rush, she’d be late for their three-month pediatric appointment, and she hated that. She was never late, yet here she was racing through the parking lot with baby Taylor in her arms and a huge diaper bag hanging off her shoulder, hitting her with each stride.

If she’d gotten up on time, she chided herself, she wouldn’t be rushing now. But she was always so tired lately. It was all the change, she decided. Becoming a mother. Coming back to town after a yearlong…what?

What did one call it when a person ran away from her job, her home, her life?

A vacation, she reminded herself firmly. She’d never in her life taken one, certainly she’d been entitled. Just because she’d taken it immediately following the earthquake didn’t mean it had anything to do with the choices she’d made.

Neither did one rugged, sexy, unforgettable Dax McCall.

Nope.

God, what a liar she was. The cooing sound stopped her cold. Staring down into her daughter’s face, her heart simply tipped on its side.

Baby-blue eyes stared back at her. So had a kissable button nose, two chubby cheeks and the sweetest little mouth.

Love swamped her. Amber had never imagined herself a mother, but Taylor was the greatest thing that had ever happened to her, and looking into that precious face, she had absolutely no choice but to smile.

In response, Taylor let out an ear-splitting squeal and grinned, while cheerfully, uncontrollably waving her arms.

Amber’s heart twisted again and she bent, touching her nose to Taylor’s. “You are the sweetest baby that ever lived,” she whispered fiercely. “I love you.”

Taylor drooled, making Amber smile again, though her smile was bittersweet this time. Taylor was her family, her life, her everything. They were alone together.

And together the two of them would be just fine.

That’s what Amber repeated to herself as she strode breathlessly to the elevator and hit the button for the second floor. It didn’t matter that they were unwanted’Amber by her father, Taylor by hers.

They would survive.

As she waited, she smiled at her daughter and wondered for the thousandth time if Taylor had her daddy’s eyes. Were the light, crystal clear baby blues, the kind one could drown in, from Dax?

It still hurt, the not knowing. She’d tried, she reassured herself. The day after the earthquake, after she’d made the rash decision to go to Mexico for an extended vacation that had turned into a yearlong leave of absence, she’d attempted to see Dax.

In spite of her embarrassment at having to face the man she’d thrown herself at, she’d wanted to thank him for saving her life, for she held no illusions. She never would have survived without him, without his quick thinking and razor-sharp instincts, without his warm, safe arms and incredibly soothing voice.

She had no idea where he lived, but knew that as a fire inspector, he had to work out of the main fire house downtown. Somehow she’d summoned her courage to thank him in person, but when she’d gotten there, most of her bravery had faded in the face of reality.

She’d found him all right. He’d been in the break room with one of the firefighters. A woman. And they’d been laughing and teasing and flirting.

She’d prepared herself for anything, anything but that. Standing in the doorway watching, yearning, she thought she’d never seen anyone so open, so absolutely full of life.

He was definitely far more man than she was equipped to handle, and with her words of thanks stuck in her throat, she’d turned tail and run. Not exactly mature, but it was done. To make up for her silliness, she’d sent a thank-you card and flowers before she’d left town.

It hadn’t been until later, much later, that she’d discovered her condition.

Her pregnant condition.





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