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  * * *

  Dax held Amber in his arms long afterward, listening to her soft, deep breathing, watching her relaxed face. Though he relished the sight of her sprawled against him, though he soaked in each and every lush curve and all the feminine roundness that so turned him on, he almost wished she'd put on some clothes, because even the feel of her creamy, soft skin against his made him want her again.

  He had the feeling he would always want her.

  The yearning for her spread within him and he pulled her even closer, needing to take what he could before she woke all the way up this time, and remembered she wasn't ready.

  It took every bit of restraint he had to keep from kissing her awake, to keep from trying to convince her that what they shared was so incredibly right.

  How could she not know?

  Or maybe that was it. She did know, and the reality was too frightening.

  Her body certainly hadn't had any such reservations. She'd given all of herself, holding nothing back. The way she'd held him, stroked him, the way she'd looked at him, had spoken clearly of her heart's desires.

  His own heart raced in remembered response.

  He'd never, in all his thirty-two years, been touched the way she'd touched him. She wasn't experienced, no one with that much wonder and awe in her eyes at the simplest of his kisses could be experienced, but she had a surprisingly sensuous, earthy streak and was such a quick study that he got hard just remembering.

  He enjoyed everything about her; the easy intelligence in her eyes, her sweet, warm laughter, the wonderful way she mothered Taylor.

  Leaving her would be the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, but there was no choice. He was in love with her. Hopelessly, irrevocably in love. It was his first time, but he knew himself, knew that he'd do everything in his power to insure this went his way. He would seduce, cajole and convince her—whatever it took—that they belonged together.

  He would probably eventually succeed.

  But it would be no good unless Amber decided for herself that they belonged together. No good because he'd never know if it was the path she would have chosen for herself.

  In her sleep, she frowned and whimpered, and the sound went through him like a knife. "Shh," he whispered, soothing her with his hands and voice. "I've got you."

  Immediately she stilled. The frown faded. So did much of her tension. Her soft, warm breath tickled the skin of his neck. Her feet were snuggled against his, soaking up their warmth and her hands rested trustingly against his chest. Even their hearts beat in unison, he could feel the rhythm echoing through him.

  He missed her already, and though he needed to get some sleep, he didn't want to close his eyes, didn't want to miss a minute of this.

  God, it hurt, the letting go, but in the end, he could do little else.

  * * *

  Amber awoke to the sound of Taylor's cooing in the next room. It was a happy sound and she smiled. Until she realized she was in Dax's warm, welcoming bed. Alone. She stretched, looking for him, and at the sight of a note on his pillow, her heart stopped.

  Dear Amber,

  I had to get back to work.

  I'll be busy for several days, maybe more, before I can get another day off. Please, if you can, let my parents have my days with Taylor. They love her and will take care of her.

  You can trust them, Amber.

  Love, Dax

  You can trust them. He apparently thought she didn't know that, and had to be told.

  Her own fault, she admitted, closing her eyes. She'd done a good job of letting him think that she was incapable of trust, period.

  With a soft groan, she lay back and listened to Taylor's joyous babbling. It should have felt right to wake up in his bed, it would have felt right, if he'd been there.

  She'd let him think what they shared was purely physical, let him assume the problems between them were insurmountable. She'd hurt him, and that knowledge was an anguish she'd have to face. And somehow fix.

  * * *

  Chapter 14

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  She was a coward. Not an easy admission, but Amber wouldn't shy away from the truth.

  Somewhere along the road, she'd accepted that Dax really did love her. It was a miracle, and it still made her marvel, but she accepted it.

  She also accepted that she felt the same.

  But she hadn't told him, and that was inexcusable. The words had fairly screamed from her heart last night and she'd kept them to herself. Selfish and afraid, she'd held them near and dear, where they could do little good.

  He deserved to know.

  It wasn't exactly complimentary that it had taken her so long to really get it, but she could face that, too. She'd been hiding. She'd kept herself from living her life to its fullest because she was afraid.

  That was going to change.

  Last night had been a turning point for her, and if she was being honest, she also had to admit her transformation hadn't started last night. It had begun a year before in a dark, dirty basement where she'd faced her mortality.

  She'd changed.

  She'd learned love didn't have to hurt, that she could indeed trust someone other than herself. Dax needed to know that, too, and he needed to be thanked for teaching her that lesson, but before she could even begin to do that, she had to make him understand how much he meant to her.

  But he wasn't home, and if he was at work, he wasn't returning her calls. It might have taken her too long, but she'd found the depth of her true feelings for him and she wouldn't give up. She could do this, she could fight for what she wanted.

  And what she wanted was Dax McCall in her life, in her home, in her heart.

  Forever.

  * * *

  Since Dax had made himself so thoroughly scarce and unavailable, Amber was forced to start with something else. Something she'd been wanting to do for awhile.

  It required only a trip to the county recorder's office.

  She gave Taylor Dax's last name.

  They both deserved that, father and daughter, and she wanted Taylor to be a McCall. She thought Dax wanted that, too, and doing it felt right, very right.

  There was something else she wanted to do, and while she waited to talk to Dax, she went for that as well. It was tough, and meant swallowing a lot of pride, but it was for Taylor.

  Her father answered the phone in his usual gruff, booming voice, and when he heard Amber, he became all the more gruff. "What do you want?" As she had all of her life, Amber went on the defensive, and strove to cover that with icy coolness. "You told Dax you wanted to see your granddaughter. Was that true?"

  "Yes." He cleared his throat, a sign of unease. But her father was never uneasy.

  Could he be as nervous as she?

  There was a time in Amber's life when she would have been agonizing over this, wishing he would show just the slightest interest, give her one little word of encouragement.

  Suddenly—or maybe not so suddenly at all—it didn't matter. She ached for his presence in her life, solely for Taylor's sake now.

  Yes, she still wanted a father who approved of her and what she'd done with her life. But she'd learned she was fine without that approval. Better than fine. "Have you changed your mind?"

  "Actually, it was more than that."

  "I don't understand," she said slowly.

  His voice was harsh. Gruff as ever. Irritated. "Can't a man see his only daughter, as well?"

  "Me?"

  "You hard of hearing, Amber?"

  There was no softening in his tough attitude. There came no words of apology or any request for forgiveness. She understood she'd never get that, but it didn't stop her sudden smile. "No, of course not." Amazement gave way to a tentative peace. "You can see us whenever it suits you."

  "Well, it suits me."

  It suited her, too, and after he'd hung up, Amber reflected on her life, where it was going, and she smiled again.

  * * *

  Dax kneeled in the destruction and a