AFTERSHOCK Read online

  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 straight up.

  "No secrets," pouted the redhead, pressing her lush curves against Dax.

  He smiled at her, too, his eyes heavy and slumberous.

  Amber gritted her teeth. They were almost on top of her now, and he was so busy with bimbette-one and bimbette-two that he hadn't even seen her!

  This was the man she pictured as miserable all night because of her rudeness? Ha!

  Since she couldn't disappear into thin air, she would have to handle this as she would any uncomfortable situation, with her famed, icy control. "Good morning, Dax," she said, ever so proud of her cool voice. She only hoped he couldn't see the steam coming out of her ears.

  "Amber." He stopped short, clearly surprised. "Hello."

  Amber didn't want to think about how his smile suddenly warmed, or how this time it reached his eyes. No, she didn't want to think about that, or she'd lose her anger. Anger was good here, anger would get her through. "You look awfully busy this morning."

  He dropped his hold on his playmates and looked suddenly panicked. "Taylor. There's nothing wrong with her…"

  Well darn if that fierce worry in his expression didn't defuse a good part of her temper. "No, Taylor is fine." But since she wouldn't apologize now, she needed another reason for her appearance. Frantically she searched her mind and came up with … nothing. "I was just out for a walk and thought I'd say hello. So … hello." Forcing a smile, she turned away.

  "Wait."

  She didn't, couldn't.

  "Amber?"

  She couldn't get away fast enough, and behind her, she heard him swear.

  "Amber, wait—"

  Then he was there, alone, taking her arm and turning her back to face him. "Just out for a walk?" He shook his head. "Come on, Amber. What's this really about?"

  For some idiotic reason, her throat closed. "I told you. I'm just walking."

  He shot a doubtful look at her heels. "In those?"

  Cool. Calm. That was the ticket. "Are my shoes a problem for you?"

  "Not for me." He smiled angelically. "That's a pretty suit."

  "Thank you."

  "Personally, that short skirt could quickly become a favorite of mine, but it seems a waste to exercise in it."

  Dignity, she reminded herself. Keep it. "I always walk before work. It's terrific exercise."

  His look was long and knowing. "This place is at least twelve miles from your place."

  "I'm in excellent shape." She glanced at the women still waiting for Dax. They had rich curves and fabulous bodies, and she found her temper again. "For a woman who's just had a baby, anyway."

  "That you most definitely are." He ran a finger over her perfectly-in-place hair. "You sure look great for someone who's walked so far. Oh, and look at that…" He gestured to her car, parked on the street only fifteen feet away. "How in the world did that get here? Don't tell me it's trained to follow you on your morning constitutional."

  "Very funny."

  He grinned. She should have known better. For whatever reason, there was no controlling herself around him. "Glad I'm such a source of amusement for you. I have to go now."

  "Like you did last night?"

  Last night. The reason she'd come. "I'll talk to you later." No way was she going to apologize in front of an audience. "When you're not so … busy."

  It was as if he could see right through her. "I'm not too busy for you." He reached for her hand. His voice was low so that only she could hear it. Only problem, the exciting, rough timbre of it sent tingles down her spine. "What's the matter, Amber? Can't you tell me?"

  It was hard, she discovered, to feel his hands on her. She liked the warmth in them too much. Liked how important she felt. How special.

  That she could actually let herself depend on that warmth and strength scared her.

  He scared her.

  Then she remembered the women. "You visiting with your sisters?" she asked casually, not wanting to publicly misjudge him again, as she had in the medical center.

  Was that a flash of guilt that crossed his face as he glanced at them over his shoulder? "Ah … no. Not today."

  Okay, then. "Gotta go."

  "Wait—"

  But