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  “Oh, baby, I know that one.” His smile was warm, sweet, caring. And when he slid his fingers over her cheek as if she was the most important person in his world, her throat burned.

  “Why are you doing this? Being nice?”

  “Because…” He lifted a shoulder. “It’s better than harboring resentment. It feels good. Because I want to. Pick one.”

  “But-”

  “Amber, don’t you ever get tired of fighting it?”

  “It?”

  “It.” He stroked her jaw with his thumb, then touched the racing pulse at the base of her throat. “This.”

  “I…don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His gaze took a leisurely sweep over her body, ending at the straining button between her breasts. On either side, her hard, aching nipples pressed against the material of her blouse. He seemed fascinated by the play of his fingers over her collarbone. “Don’t you?” he murmured. “Don’t deny it, I can see that you do.”

  With a huff of vexation, she crossed her arms. “I can’t help that.”

  “I’m glad.” His smoldering eyes met hers now. “I’m glad you can’t control the attraction between the two of us, it’s the only way I know I’m reaching you at all.”

  To hell with control and finesse. To hell with appearances. Screw all of it, she needed him gone, now, before she made a complete fool of herself and tore her clothes off, and then his. She marched to the front door and opened it. “Good night, Dax.”

  He frowned, though whether at her husky voice or her abruptness, she didn’t know.

  “Look, it’s nothing personal,” she assured him. “It’s just that I’ve had enough of men running my life, manipulating me, and deciding what’s right for me.”

  He went very still. “And you think that’s what I’m doing?”

  “Aren’t you? You want me to share Taylor-”

  “She’s mine, too, Amber. Get it through that pretty, thick head of yours.” He cupped her face in his hands, tipping it up to meet his intense gaze. His fingers on her skin made her knees knock together. So did looking at his lips and she wondered, totally inappropriately, if he kissed her now, would she melt as she had a year ago?

  Probably.

  Definitely.

  Which was another reason to get him out of here, quickly. But he wasn’t budging, his big body was a stubborn brick wall she couldn’t move.

  “I hate it that you shy away from me, from the connection between us,” he said.

  She swallowed at the real glimpse of pain she saw in his eyes. Dammit, did he have to be so sensitive, so open and warm, so…perfect? “I don’t feel any particular connection.”

  He set his hand to the base of her throat, let his fingers once again slide against the skin where her pulse beat wildly. “Liar,” he chided softly.

  “Good night, Dax.”

  He stared at her for one long moment, then walked to the door.

  A small voice inside her head told her he was right. She was a liar. She wanted him to stay, wanted him to seduce her.

  Or maybe she’d seduce him. It was mortifying to realize how close she was to letting her hormones run her, just as her mother had.

  “You’ll dream of me,” he said.

  She had a feeling he was right, but she shut the door and bolted it. Then she stood there for a moment, touching the door as if it were him.

  Her body sizzled. Sizzled. A mother wasn’t supposed to sizzle! She didn’t want this. It would never work, not under these circumstances, not under the best of circumstances. Still, she nearly whipped the front door open again.

  Instead, she went into the kitchen and ate as if she was still pregnant, refusing to feel guilty for eating a good portion of Dax’s food, too.

  Later, after she took care of Taylor, she went to bed and tried to forget how fiercely Dax had defended her to her father. Tried to forget how good it had felt, for that one little second, to depend on someone other than herself.

  And damn him, just like he’d said, she dreamed of him.

  7

  A MBER WOKE UP rumpled, still exhausted and haunted by visions of a starving Dax.

  In the light of day she had to laugh at herself. So she’d eaten his dinner. He was a pretty capable guy, certainly he’d managed.

  She got out of bed and checked on Taylor, who was still fast asleep. Grateful, she took the baby monitor and headed for the shower. Afterward, warm and steamy and still wet, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. It was rare to spend any time really looking at herself, especially naked, but she looked now.

  Somehow, when she hadn’t been paying attention, she’d lost most of the baby fat she’d accumulated during her pregnancy. Still, her hips were fuller. Her belly was no longer concave, but softly rounded. And her breasts…they weren’t the simple, unobtrusive A-cup they’d always been, but two full sizes larger. Just looking at them made her wonder.

  What did Dax think of her body now?

  Even as she thought it, she blushed. She knew he saw something he liked, because whenever she looked at him unexpectedly, she caught him watching her with a wild, hot intensity that made her hot right back. She tried to pretend she didn’t notice, but in the deep of the night she often thought about what they did to each other.

  She’d been rude to him last night, inexcusably rude. He had no idea why, couldn’t possibly understand how she was letting her past guide her. For most of her childhood, she’d blindly obeyed her father. She’d followed orders, squelched her need for a feminine role model and had done whatever it took to please the man.

  Opinions hadn’t been encouraged.

  As a result, she was naturally inhibited. Being quiet and unobtrusive had been necessary for survival, as had keeping thoughts and emotions to herself. They were habits she’d carried into adulthood.

  Now she was fiercely independent, and she liked it that way. Few, if any, had penetrated her protective shell.

  Dax had, though, and it was scary stuff.

  She dressed, then took Taylor next door to her baby-sitter, Mrs. Chapman. The woman was sixty-five and spry as a woman half her age, even if she spent her days wearing formal velvet dresses and watching soap operas. She loved Taylor with all her heart, which was enough for Amber.

  On the drive to Dax’s office, Amber practiced her breathing techniques and concentrated hard on calm images, but all she could think about was that one day they’d spent together, so long ago.

  He would have done anything to protect her that day, and so far she’d paid him back by hiding his daughter from him and being as rude and hard to be with as possible. Something had to give, and she wasn’t sure it could be her. But she had to try.

  She was climbing the steps of the station, her apology on her lips, picturing a miserable and hungry Dax, when he came out.

  He had a woman on each arm, and he was smiling-grinning actually-looking happy, confident, strikingly handsome and not even remotely miserable.

  The bastard. The least he could have done was to look hungry.

  The women were smiling, too, also looking happy, confident and strikingly handsome.

  Any urge to apologize vaporized.

  Wishing she could disappear into a great big black hole, Amber faltered, but of course it was too late to run. She was out in the open, only a few steps below them. Any second, he was going to notice her.

  If he ever took his eyes off the other women, that is. “Oh Dax,” simpered the tall, thin, gorgeous blonde on his left. “This has been a long time coming.”

  “I know. You’ve been so patient.” Dax smiled into her eyes. “Work’s been a bear.”

  “All I want to know is, are you going to make the wait worthwhile?” The redhead on his right lifted a suggestive brow, making promises with her eyes that made Amber roll hers.

  “Absolutely,” Dax told her, still smiling.

  “Good. Because…” The blonde leaned close and whispered something in his ear.

  His eyebrows shot straigh