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  “I’m fine,” he said, emotionlessly. “You don’t have to stay.”

  The only light in the room came from the pale moon shining through the window, so she couldn’t see his expression. She didn’t have to in order to know he felt empty to the core. “You want me to go?”

  A harsh laugh escaped him. “No. But I know you’re still afraid of all this, and I’m just vulnerable enough tonight to beg.”

  “I can’t help the fear, Dax,” she said carefully. “It’s all a part of it for me. But I can tell you what I feel for you is different than anything I’ve ever felt before.”

  She felt his surprise.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and pressed her fingertips to them while she drew in a deep breath. “I won’t deny what’s between us, but I feel like I’m on an emotional roller coaster.”

  “I understand that you like to keep your emotions in check. Hell, you’ve had to in order to survive, but Amber…” He lifted his broad shoulders helplessly. “I can’t do the same.”

  In the dark his silhouette seemed larger than life, more vital, more full of passion and hope than she could ever be, and never had she felt the lack in herself so much as she did in that moment. “I know,” she whispered.

  “I won’t ever hurt you,” he said quietly. “I’ve told you that. But I can’t temper myself, hide my emotions. No matter how much I want you, I can’t change. Not even for you.”

  He was close enough now that she could see him more clearly. The contours of his bare chest were delineated by the faint moon’s glow. He was powerful, and he was beautiful.

  And he could be hers.

  All she had to do was believe it.

  He turned away and sank down onto his huge bed. With a little groan, he flopped on his back and covered his face with one arm.

  Exhaustion had clearly claimed him.

  Was it too late to tell him? Could she find both the courage and the words? “Dax?”

  He let out an answering grunt, but didn’t budge.

  She moved close, until her knees bumped the mattress. She lifted one to the bed and bent over him, gently setting a hand on his bare chest.

  At the unexpected heat of him, she nearly pulled back, but the sensation of skin to skin felt so good, she set her other hand on him as well. Then closed her eyes to savor it.

  Suddenly his hands came up, tugged her down. Gasping in surprise, she fell over him.

  “If you’re going to lean over me, staring as I sleep,” he muttered, “then at least get down here and keep me company while you’re doing it.”

  Those were the last words he spoke. He drew her close, tucked himself around her, then immediately fell into a deep, exhausted slumber.

  He was warm and safe and strong. There was no way to resist snuggling in even closer.

  Then she, too, fell asleep.

  S HE DREAMED they made love…she could feel him, all of him, skin to skin, burning her, healing her, making her body hum.

  She dreamed of his hands skimming over her body, shedding her clothes. The picture was so vivid she could feel the calluses on his fingertips when he touched her bare flesh with such terrifying tenderness it made her weep and press closer.

  She dreamed she touched him, too, and under her hands the muscles of his big, tough body quivered. In his eyes she saw need and ecstasy and anguish and oh…

  This was no dream.

  “You’re awake.” Indecision and sweet resignation swam in his eyes.

  They’d already established she wasn’t a morning person, nothing had changed. Then she realized it wasn’t morning yet. She blinked in confusion because she was wrapped around him like a blanket.

  “I woke up like this,” he murmured. “We must have gravitated toward each other in our dreams.”

  He expected her to walk away. She could hear it in his voice. He thought she’d made a decision about him, about her life, and that decision didn’t involve him.

  He thought wrong.

  “Touch me, Dax.”

  The strain on his face nearly broke her heart. “I am.”

  “More.”

  “It won’t change anything,” he said tightly. “We’ll still be fundamentally at odds, wanting different things, and-”

  She shifted closer to that intriguing, throbbing heat pressing between her legs. “Mmm.” She grabbed his hands from her hips and slid them over her body. To her waist, her ribs, her breasts.

  “Amber.” He groaned. “You feel incredible, but-”

  “You talk too much.” She kissed him softly, then not so softly, drawing him in deeper, and he let out a tortured sigh, deepening the kiss himself. As if he could read her mind, her dream, her need, he caressed her, worshipped her body and set her senses on fire.

  “My clothes,” she managed as his mouth dipped and nipped over her collarbone, trailing to a breast. His tongue circled her bare nipple, and she arched closer. “Where did my clothes go?” She moaned when his hot, pulsing erection nudged at her wet center. “Where did yours go?”

  “We must have shed them in the night.”

  He rose above her, swirling that inventive, greedy tongue over her other breast, teasing the nipple until she nearly cried.

  When she tried to lift up her legs and draw him inside her, he evaded her, slipping down her body. She felt his warm breath high on the inside of her thigh. Equal parts thrill and fear coursed through her. “Um…Dax?”

  “Shh. You talk too much.” His tongue swirled over her. Then his teeth, and when he sucked her into his mouth, he made her wild, frantic. Shameless. And as the orgasm tore through her, he took her to heights she’d never even imagined.

  Unbelievably, he would have rolled away then, but she managed to open her eyes and saw his vulnerability, and understood he appreciated hers.

  He wouldn’t take advantage of her.

  She felt the resolute, unmistakable connection of their hearts and souls, and knew he never could. She reversed their positions, holding him in place as she slowly and torturously experimented on his body with her mouth.

  When he tossed back his head, his face tight in a mask of agonized pleasure, she lifted her mouth off of him and licked her lips.

  He moaned.

  “Am I doing all right?” she whispered.

  “You’re doing better than all right,” he managed in a strangled voice. “And if you stop now, there’s every chance I’m going to die on the spot.”

  Empowered, she gave him a wicked grin before resuming.

  In less than two minutes, she had him clawing at the sheets, shaking, begging for release. The thrill of that was such a rush she nearly came from just watching him.

  “Love me,” she whispered.

  “I do.” His eyes squeezed shut, hiding himself from her. “Amber-”

  “Condom?”

  She saw him hesitate, and desperate for the feel of him thick and throbbing inside her, she reared up and opened his nightstand herself.

  He made a rough sound, reached past her and grabbed a foil packet. With a new boldness, she took it and attempted to put the thing on, but it wasn’t nearly as easy as it seemed it should be. “It’s not big enough,” she said, surprised when he let out a groaning laugh.

  “Amber, stop. This isn’t-”

  Before he could deny her, she drew his face down to hers, arching her hips as she kissed him, forcing his decision.

  A low groan came from deep in his throat, and he barely managed to get the condom on before he thrust into her, hard and deep. “I’m sorry.” His voice was as rough and ragged as his breathing. But he held her hips and thrust again.

  She wanted to tell him not to be sorry, that this was what she wanted, but all she could do was cry out with the pleasure of him inside her. She tossed back her head and gave him everything she had, and as she did, her heart opened, rejoiced, and in return, received.

  When it was over, when she lay limp and exhausted in his arms, their bodies still connected and pulsing with the passion and love they’d