AFTERSHOCK Read online

  Emily smiled innocently as she continued to railroad Amber with all the subtly of a bull in a china shop. "Are you drinking a full glass of water every hour?"

  "Oh. Well, I—"

  "Maybe you're working too hard. Are you managing to get enough sleep? A baby can be so hard on a mother."

  "I told you she was nosy and bossy," Dax said over his mother's head.

  "Hush you! I told you to scat." Emily kissed Taylor and passed her back to Dax. "So scat!" Then she took Amber's hand. "You come with me now, honey."

  Short of being rude, Amber couldn't resist. She shot a helpless glance over her shoulder at Dax, who just grinned.

  No help there.

  Then he was swallowed up by the crowd and Amber was left with the petite powerhouse that was Dax's mother.

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  « ^ »

  Amber was quiet on the drive home, thinking about the glimpse she'd had into Dax's world.

  She'd seen him playful and teasing with his nieces and nephews. Tolerant and protective of his sisters. Loving and warm with his parents.

  Then, without warning, he'd cornered her in the foyer against a wall and had kissed her senseless. By the time he'd lifted his head, smiled wickedly and backed away, she'd nearly melted to the floor.

  Who was this man, the one who could go from sweet and nurturing, to shatteringly erotic in a nanosecond? It was a sharp reminder of how different they were, for Amber couldn't imagine letting her emotions run her the way Dax did.

  Inside her condo, Amber put a sleeping Taylor in her crib, then occupied herself starting a fire in the living room fireplace.

  Dax waited until she had the flames flickering before he tugged her up, turning her around to face him. In an easy show of affection, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled into her eyes. "Hey."

  She tried to move back from him because being in such proximity always made thinking difficult, but he held her in a gentle grip of steel. "Hey back," she said, trying to look as if being held by such a gorgeous man was an everyday occurrence.

  "Talk to me, Amber."

  "About?"

  "You."

  The way he looked at her, the way he spoke … as if she were the most important person in his life… It took her breath away.

  "You and your family," she said inanely. "You're very close."

  "Yes. Very." He cocked his head and studied her. "Is that what's bothering you? That my family gets along?"

  "You laugh, you fight, you…"

  "Love. Is that it?"

  He understood, she could hear it in his voice. Fearing his pity, she couldn't quite meet his gaze.

  "I know your father isn't quite the same as mine," he said carefully.

  "Nor was my mother the same as yours."

  "You've not said much about her," he murmured, still close, still touching. Always touching.

  "There's not much to say. She left when I was born." With long-practiced skill, she shrugged. It no longer mattered. It shouldn't matter.

  "She missed raising a pretty wonderful daughter."

  "I did fine without her."

  His eyes were soft and unusually dark. "Yeah. You did. But you shouldn't have had to. You should have had her to talk to, to hold you. To love you."

  "Love wasn't a huge priority in my household."

  "Another shame, but it's not yours." He lifted her face and studied her until she squirmed. "Are you listening, Amber? Really listening? I get the idea you somehow think it's your fault your parents are jerks."

  "No, not jerks. My father never beat me, or forgot to feed me, or anything like that. He took care of me."

  "So he gave you the basics. Big deal. Parenthood is a lot harder than that, and you know it. He failed you. Your mother failed you. Your fiancé failed you, and in a way, I've failed you by not being there when you needed me, when you were having Taylor."

  "That was hardly your fault," she reminded him.

  "Still, I won't fail you again."

  He was deadly serious and more than a little intimidating. "I don't want to be a responsibility to you," she said slowly. "I won't have you come to resent me."

  "Trust me," he murmured. "It's much more than that." His thumb brushed over her lower lip and when she shivered, his eyes darkened even more. "So you were alone for most of your life with a man who obviously hadn't a clue how to show his emotions. Do you have any idea how amazing your passion is, in spite of all that?"

  She laughed, then stopped short when he didn't smile, just looked at her steadily. "I don't think of myself as particularly … passionate."

  "No?" His gaze dropped, ran slowly over every inch of her, leaving a rising heat everywhere it touched. "You should."

  "I'd like to think I'm not run by such an emotion."

  "Ah, and I am." His lips quirked. "Is that it?"

  Dammit, she was amusing him. She pushed at his hand, which was still on her face, but he merely tipped up her chin, his long, warm fingers scorching her skin. "Your father told me what he thought of your mother. How he was always afraid you'd be like her."

  "I see. The two of you sat around and discussed me."

  "You came up a few times."

  When she took a step back, he followed, his big hands tender and gentle as he reached for her. "I'm on to you, you know."

  She slapped his hands away and stepped back again. "I haven't a clue what you're talking about."

  "You're not like her, Amber, you never could be."

  Determined to avoid this, she took one more step and hit the wall. "No I'm not, because I'm so careful." Usually. "I've always been, but somehow, with you…" His hands caged her in, her breath backed up in her throat. "Somehow you make me forget to watch myself."

  "Really? That's interesting." One of his hands slid down her side now, and since her shirt came to the waistband of her skirt and wasn't tucked in, his fingers slipped under and touched bare skin. "Always so in control." His thumb slid over her belly and she drew in a shaky breath. "And yet not with me. Could you have feelings for me then? Deep ones?" That hand danced around now to her back, and his thumb made a lazy circle very low on her spine, causing a shiver.

  The flare of desire in his eyes didn't help. "Dax—"

  Those magical fingers played lightly over her tingling flesh. She held her breath when he splayed his big, warm hand over her bottom, pressing her to him so that she could feel his erection.

  "You don't want to feel anything for me," he said huskily. "But I feel something for you. Can you feel what I'm feeling, Amber?"

  Oh yeah. He was huge, pulsing against her.

  "Can you?"

  "I … yes." Definitely yes.

  "Today scared you."

  She stared at him, and he stared back, achingly patient, silently demanding her honesty.

  "A little, maybe. All of you. All that passion, all that wild jubilance."

  "And all that unpredictability. You don't know what to make of me, do you Amber? Or what to expect?"

  "No."

  "You hate that."

  "Yes." But she looked at his mouth and a part of her burned for it to touch hers, fear be damned, all the while aware of how turned on he was. How turned on she was.

  "What's between us is a work in progress," he said. "It can go as you want. You can be in control." He nudged even closer. "Or not."

  "Is there really an 'us'?"

  "Yeah," Dax whispered huskily, no longer surprised by that very fact. "There's an us." To show her, he took her mouth with his, the promise echoing in his head as he tasted her.

  She kissed him back, but then put a shaking hand to his chest. "I'm not ready for this. For you."

  Neither was he, no matter what a certain body part was screaming. "No rush."

  "Okay. Good." She licked her already wet lips in a self-conscious gesture he was certain she didn't mean to make so damn sexy.

  "We could just let this attraction sit in the driver's seat," he said. "And see where it t