Aftershock

A DISTANT rumbling was their only warning, but it was enough for Amber, who reacted without thinking by throwing herself at the stranger who’d become her entire world. Later she’d be mortified by her lack of control, but at the moment control was the last thing on her mind.

As the earth once again pitched and rolled beneath their feet, the man snatched her closer and sank with her to the floor.

“Hurry,” he demanded, pushing her under what felt like a huge, wooden desk. He crawled in after her.

She had time to think the earth’s movement was slight compared to the other quake before he hauled her beneath him, sprawling his big and’ oh my ’very tough body over hers, protecting her head by crushing it to his chest.

Time once again ceased to exist as she closed her eyes and lived through the aftershock. Huddled in the pitch dark, Amber knew what the man holding her so tightly feared’as she feared’death. It could easily happen, right this second, and she waited breathlessly for the ceiling above them to give and crush them.

Unwilling to die, she held on, reacting instinctively by burrowing closer to the stranger’s warmth, his strength. He had both in spades and shared it freely.

After what seemed like years’she’d lost all sense of time’the rocking stopped.

She became aware of how close they were. How big a man he was, how every inch of her was plastered to every inch of him. A stranger.

She’d thrown herself at a stranger.

Mortified, she pushed at him. Immediately, he rolled off her and they lay there beneath the desk, separated by inches. Holding their breath.

Nothing crushed them. In fact, the silence was so complete it was nothing short of eerie.

“It held,” she whispered.

“Yeah.” In the dark he shifted, and she got the feeling he was staring at her. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

No one had ever called her such a thing before. “Why?”

“You’re so calm. No panic.”

“You didn’t panic,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but…”

“But I’m a woman?”

“I’m sorry.” There was a reluctant smile in his voice. “But yes, because you’re a woman I guess I expected you to wig out over that one.”

With hard won habit and sheer will, she never wigged out. Not Amber Riggs. She had too much control for that. The master himself had taught her the art. Her father had demanded perfection from her, and total submission.

He’d gotten it.

The fact that her cold, hard, exacting military parent could still intrude on her life, especially at a time like this, where every last moment counted, really infuriated her. She shoved the unhappy memories aside.

“I like control,” she said, and if her voice was tinged with steely determination, she couldn’t help it. She was proud of her cool, sophisticated front. It certainly hadn’t come easily. How many times had she been told she mustn’t be like the mother she’d never known? The mother who’d been wild and uncontrollable before she’d taken off after Amber’s birth?

A slut, her father liked to remind his daughter.

No, Amber must never be like her.

Little chance of that when she’d grown up with no maternal influence to soften her strict, unbending father. Once upon a time, she’d done everything in her power to earn his approval, but it had never come. She’d learned to live without it.

She didn’t need his, or anyone’s, approval.

As a result, her life was quiet, and okay, maybe a bit sterile, but she’d convinced herself that was how she wanted it. She didn’t need anyone or anything, and she especially didn’t need what she secretly felt unworthy of’ love.

Instead, she buried herself in the one thing that would never hurt or disappoint her’her work’and she liked it that way.

So what was that stab of regret she felt now, while she lay waiting to die? What was this terrible sadness coursing through her, this certainty that by ignoring all emotion and passion in order to succeed at her work, she’d somehow let life pass her by?

She was single; no husband, no children. Not even a boyfriend or a casual date. A barren woman with a barren life.

What would it be like to have a man waiting for her right now, worrying over her? Loving her with all his heart and soul?

She’d never know now.

Another rumbling came.

Before she could react, the stranger was there, again yanking her close into the heat and safety of his arms. He had big, warm hands and they settled at her back, soothing and protective.

This quake felt much slighter, a huge relief. But it allowed other things to crowd Amber’s brain besides fear.

Things like the man she was glued to.

She could feel the fierce pounding of his heart, feel his large hands gently cup her head, feel the tough sinew of his hard body as it surrounded hers. The weirdest sensation flooded her.

Arousal, she realized in shock.

Good Lord, one little emergency and she started acting like her mother!

She couldn’t believe it, and promptly blamed the circumstances for her shocking lack of control. But the connection between her and this man felt like ice and fire at once, and it baffled her. Danger, she told herself. It was just the danger, the sense of impending death making her feel like this, all liquidy and…well, hot.

“It’s okay,” he whispered in that incredible voice, the one that made her feel like melted butter.

She couldn’t have it, wouldn’t have it, and yet she couldn’t seem to let go of him. A whimper sounded, and she was horrified to realize it was her own.

Needing to be free, she fought him.

“Shh, you’re all right,” he told her when she struggled against both him and the unaccustomed feelings swimming through her. With frightening ease, he lay her back on the ground, easily subduing her.

Above them came the booming sound of more falling brick, and it was louder, more terrifying than Amber could imagine. The falling debris hit the top of the desk that was protecting them, nearly startling her right out of her own skin.

They were going to die now.

She had to get out. But she couldn’t budge, he held her too close, protecting her body with his.

“Don’t fight me,” he coaxed in her ear. “We’ve got to stay right here.”

“No,” she gasped, wrestling, listening to the noise of the building crumbling to dust around them, feeling the heat of him as he held her safe no matter how she fought him.

Didn’t he understand? She’d lost it, her prized control was gone, and the greater danger lay right here, in his warm, strong arms. “I need out!” she cried.

“You can’t.” Regret made his voice harsh, but so did determination as he leaned over her, cuffing her hands over her head, restraining her with his superior strength.

“Listen,” he demanded as she silently fought him with everything she had. “Listen to me!” He gave her a little shake. “The building has collapsed on top of us. If you leave the safety of the desk now, when the ceiling of this basement gives…”

Not if the ceiling collapses, but when. He didn’t have to finish his sentence, but God, oh God, she couldn’t bear it, this enforced contact between them. She was plastered to him from head to toe and the opaque blackness only added to the sense of intimacy.

“It’s stopped,” he murmured, relieved, and she felt his cheek brush against hers. “It’s over.”

She waited with what she considered admirable patience, but he didn’t let her go. “Get off me.”

“Promise me you won’t do something stupid.”

Stupid. Oh, that was good. They were going to die when she’d never really even lived. She had nothing to show for her life, nothing except for what would soon be a useless bank account. Now that was stupid. “Let me up.”

“Not until you promise you won’t disturb the balance of things.”

Still helplessly stretched out beneath him, she shifted and discovered he had one powerful leg between hers. Every time she moved, the core of her came in contact with the juncture of his thighs.

She’d been too busy trying to get free to pay much attention, but suddenly she realized she wasn’t the only one who was affected by their closeness.

He was aroused.

He was actually hard, for her. It seemed so absolutely amazing. Surreal.

Later she would blame age-old instincts, but whatever it was, it made her hips arch slightly.

In response, he made a dark sound that shot an arrow of heat straight through her. This was life, came the insane thought.

Go for it. Take it.

She moved against him again, tentatively.

He muttered something; a curse, a prayer, she had no idea which, and at the sound, blind desire overcame her. Before she could stifle the urge, she pressed even closer.

“Your name,” he demanded, letting go of her hands to slide his down her arms. “I need to know your name.”

“Amber.”

“Daxton McCall. Dax.” His hands came up now to cup her face, and a callused thumb brushed over her lips, so lightly she wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but it gave her a jolt of awareness that was almost painful.

Suddenly her world was rocking and she was no longer certain if it was another earthquake or just reaction to the insane sexiness of his voice, his body.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered.

She couldn’t stop.

“Let me warm you.” Gently, tenderly, he scooped her closer, running those big, sure hands over her spine to her hips, bringing her tight against his delicious heat…his incredible erection.

It was wrong to sigh over it; so very, very wrong, snuggling up to a man she’d never even seen. A stranger for God’s sake.

But for the life of her, she couldn’t pull away.

She needed this, desperately. Needed this reaffirmation that they were indeed alive, at least for now.

She was going to live life to the fullest, she promised herself. Every second she had left.

But as a huge thundering crash echoed around them, she couldn’t help but scream.

The walls shook, the ceiling shuddered, and they clung together, holding their breath, waiting, waiting, each second an eternity.

No more chances. This was it.

They were going to die.

3

T ERRIFIED , Amber cried out for her stranger, her Dax McCall. She had no idea what she wanted to say, but in that moment, with their world coming apart, it didn’t matter.

He understood. “I’m here, right here,” he told her, his body close so she couldn’t forget.

“It’s so loud,” she cried, horrified at how weak she sounded.

“You’re not alone.”

“I’m scared.”

“Me, too.”

“I need…”

“I know. I do, too. Come here, come closer.” And he enclosed her in a tight embrace that was so erotically charged, she could almost forget she lay huddled beneath a desk on cheap flannel carpeting in the basement of a building that had collapsed above them.

Her face was buried in his neck, and because it was so warm, so indelibly male, she left it there, inhaling deeply the very masculine scent of him. “We’re going to die,” she said against his skin.

She felt him shake his head.

His denial was sweet, but she didn’t want to be protected, not from this. “Tell me the truth.”

“I don’t want to believe it.”

“Neither do I.” It was unlike her to talk to a stranger, much less cling to one. Even more unlike her to admit to her real feelings on anything. But the words poured from her lips before she could stop them. “I don’t want it to end like this. It can’t. I’ve never really lived, not once, it can’t be too late!”

He didn’t say anything about the loss of her calm, cool sophistication, for which she thought she might be forever grateful. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all, he just continued to touch her, maintaining the connection between them.

“Dax, I think’”

“Don’t think.”

“But there’s so much’”

“Don’t.”

“I can’t stop. I can’t turn it off.”

“You’re shaking again.” In his voice was a wealth of concern and compassion, two emotions sorely missing in her life. He worried. He didn’t even know her, and he worried. Just thinking about it had her eyes misting.

How was it that a stranger could care so much for her in such a short time, when no one else ever had?

That was her own fault, and she knew it. Another regret. She didn’t let people in, didn’t let people care. Things had to change.

Starting right now. “I want to live.”

“You’re thinking again.”

“I can’t stop.”

“Let me help.”

“Yes.” Anything.

“Try this…” He angled her head up and met her lips with his.

Far above them, the ceiling groaned and strained under the weight of debris. The ominous, ever-present creaking got louder.

In opposition to Amber’s surging, very real fear, Dax’s kiss was soft, gentle, sweet.

“Stay with me,” he whispered against her lips.

His warm, giving mouth was heaven, such absolute heaven, that she gradually did just as he asked, she stayed with him, lost herself in him, drowning in the very new sensation of desire and passion.

A sound escaped her, a mere whisper of the pleasure starting to thread through her body. He soothed and assured, both with that magical voice and even more magical hands, kissing her again and again, until shyly, eagerly, she opened to him, only to jerk at the resounding thunder of more falling debris.

“Shh, I’m here,” he murmured, then dipped his head again.

The shock of his tongue curling around hers was a welcome one, and Amber pressed closer, grateful, desperate for more of the delicious distraction. One of his hands continued to cup her face, stroking her skin, the other drifted down her body, curving over her bottom, squeezing. He rocked her slowly, purposely, against his hips.

But when the ceiling made yet another terrible straining sound, she cringed.

“No, don’t listen to that.” Now his clever mouth was at her ear, his words sparking little shivers down her spine. “Stay with me, remember?”

As their world crumbled around them, Dax was right there, commanding her attention, drawing her out of her fear. “Listen to the blood pound through your body,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her temple. “Listen to the sound of our breathing…do you hear it? Do you?” he urged, willing her to let go of the terror to concentrate on what he was making her feel.

It worked, and when she felt his hot, wet mouth on her skin, she gasped and arched up into him.

“Listen to your body craving mine….”

Oh yes, yes she heard it now, the blood whipping through her system as he tasted her. She heard the sound of his low, rough groan when she writhed against him. Knowing she was causing his harsh, ragged breathing gave her an incredible sense of power. “More,” she begged. “Help me forget that we’re going to’”

Die, she’d been about to say, but he simply swallowed the word and kissed it away. He kissed her mouth, her face, her throat, all the while using his hands to stoke the fire. Her blouse fell open beneath his hands, and he treated her breasts to the same glorious magic, sucking and nibbling and stroking her nipples until she begged for more.

The rest happened so fast that afterward she could never fully recall it except as a hazy, sensuous, haunting dream. She tore open his jeans; he shoved them off his hips. He slid his hands up her skirt, groaning when he came to her thigh-high stockings, her one secret luxury. She might have spared a moment for embarrassment, but then he whipped off her panties and slipped his fingers between her thighs, dipping into her wet heat. Touching, stroking, claiming her until she couldn’t think of anything but getting more.

Penetration wasn’t easy, it had been a pathetically long time for her, but Dax slowed, teasing her aching, swollen flesh with his knowing fingers until she was ready to take him. He was huge, hot and throbbing inside her. Unbearably aroused, Amber tossed her head back, lifted her hips and sobbed as unfamiliar sensations rocketed through her. She was on the very edge, teetering, madly trying to regain her balance, but he didn’t allow it.

“Let it happen,” he whispered, his fingers teasing and urging and tormenting. “Come for me, Amber. Come for me now.”

The pleasure was so intense she couldn’t have held back if she’d wanted to. She was wild, completely out of herself, as the orgasm took her.

And took her.

It was endless. Above her, she felt him convulse, heard his hoarse cry, then they fell together, trembling, their hearts pounding violently.

Amber had no idea how much time passed before Dax lifted his head and stroked the damp hair from her face. “You okay?”

She thought about it and smiled. “Yes.” Crazy as it seemed, she was definitely okay.

Wrung out by their hollowing, grinding, shattering emotions, they dozed then, still locked in each other’s arms.

“A RE YOU TAKEN ?” The minute the words fell out of her mouth, Amber winced. Stupid. And if she hadn’t so neatly cut herself off from socializing all these years, she could have done better. “I mean’”

Besides her, Dax laughed softly. “I know what you mean. And no, I’m not married, I never would have made love to you otherwise.”

They’d made love. Good Lord.

And they’d had two more aftershocks. They sat side by side, still beneath the desk. Mortified as Amber was over what they’d done, Dax had refused to let her leave the safety of their meager protection.

“Not that I have anything against the institution of marriage in general,” he offered. “But I come from a huge family. Five meddling sisters and two equally meddling parents. Ten nieces and nephews. Tons of diapers and messes and wild family dinners.” She felt his mock shudder.

It had always been just her father and herself, so Amber could only imagine the sort of life he described. But family or not, she could understand his need to be alone, uncommitted. She herself was alone most of the time, and greatly preferred it to the alternative. Letting someone in meant letting someone have control over her, which was not an option.

She’d had enough of that to last her a lifetime; first with her father, who’d been almost maniacal in his desire to curb her every impulse, and then she’d repeated the cycle with her ex-fiancé.

She didn’t intend to make that mistake again, ever.

“I plan to settle down in another twenty years or so.” Dax’s voice had a smile in it. “Maybe when I’m forty. Just in time to have a double rocking chair on my porch.” Then his amusement faded away. “That’s my hope anyway.”

If I live.

His unspoken words hung between them. “They’ll worry about me,” he said after a moment, very softly. “I hate knowing that.”

She could hear the deep, abiding love he had for the people he cared about, and wondered what it would be like to know she was unconditionally loved that way.

“How about you?” he asked. “Who do you share your life with? Who’s missing you right now, worrying about you?”

She opened her mouth, but had nothing to say.

“What? Too personal?” He let out a little laugh and nudged her. “What could be more personal than what we’ve already done together? Come on, now. Share.”

“No one.”

“No one what?”

“There’s…no one.”

He was quiet for a moment. Probably horrified. “I have a hard time believing a woman like you has no one in her life,” he said finally, very gently.

It shocked her, the way he said “a woman like you.” His voice held admiration, attraction, tenderness.

Under different circumstances, she might have laughed. The truth was she’d been a wallflower nearly all her life. Only when she’d struck out on her own, ruthlessly devouring magazines and books on fashion and style, had her appearance changed so that no one could actually see that wallflower within her. To the world, she appeared cool, elegant, sophisticated.

Apparently she’d fooled him, too.

“Amber?”

“I think you know I don’t have a lover,” she said quietly. “Not recently anyway.” She ducked her hot cheeks to rest them against her bent knees. “No attachments.”

She could feel him studying her. Could feel his curiosity and confusion.

“There’s no shame in that.” He slid a hand up and down her back.

No, maybe not, she thought wearily. But there was in her memory. “I was engaged once,” she admitted. “Several years ago. It didn’t work out.” She didn’t add she’d discovered her fiancé had been handpicked by her father, drawn to her by the promise of promotion. That Roy had used her to further his military career, instead of really loving her as she’d allowed herself to imagine, had been devastating.

So had her father’s involvement.

Of course he’d been bitterly disappointed when she’d backed out of the arrangement. She’d failed him, and he’d made that perfectly clear.

Well, dammit, he’d failed her, too.

After that, Amber had hardened herself. Being alone was best. No involvement, no pain. She believed it with all her shut-off heart.

“I’m sorry.” Dax reached for her hand, but at the pity she heard in his voice, she flinched away.

“No, don’t,” he whispered, scooting closer, feeling for her face to make sure she was looking at him. “I’m sorry you’ve been hurt, but I’m not sorry you’re alone now.”

She had no idea what to say to that.

“Don’t regret what happened here, between us. I don’t.”

It was difficult to maintain any sort of distance when the man was continually touching her with both that voice and his hands. He was so compassionate, so giving, and he was doing his absolute best to keep her comfortable, all the while filling her with a traitorous sexual awareness.

For the first time in her life, she wondered if she’d judged her mother too harshly. It wasn’t a thought that sat well with her.

“Amber?”

That was another thing about him, he refused to let her hide, even from herself. “I won’t regret it,” she promised, knowing they were going to die anyway. “It would be a waste to regret something so wonderful.”

“Yes, it would.”

“I don’t want to die.” She hadn’t meant to say it, but there it was.

The words hung between them.

“The ceiling is holding,” he said after a moment. “The desk has protected us.”

Yes, but they would be crushed soon enough. The ceiling above them was still making groaning noises and no amount of reassurances or placating lies could cover that up. They knew from Dax’s careful exploring that one corner of the office had collapsed under tons of dirt and brick. They now had half the space they’d had originally.

Suddenly Dax froze.

“What’”

Dax put his fingers to her mouth. “Shh.” He sat rigidly still, poised, listening. “Hear that?”

She tried. “No.”

He surged to his feet, banging his head on the desk. He swore ripely, apologized hastily, then crawled out and shouted.

“What are you doing?” Amber demanded, fear clogging her throat. He’d get hurt, something would fall on him.

She’d be alone.

Always alone.

She didn’t want to die that way.

“Someone’s up there,” he told her with a shocked laugh. “They’re looking for us. Listen! ”

Then she heard it, the unmistakable shouts of people.

Joy surged.

She was going to live after all. She was going to get a second chance.

And thanks to Dax McCall, this time around she’d make the most of it.

I T TOOK HOURS to rescue them from the building, but eventually Amber was standing in the asphalt parking lot, blinking like a mole at the fading daylight.

Hard to believe, but they were okay. They were alive. And while they’d been trapped, life had gone on, business as usual.

Well, not quite. Southern California had suffered a six-point-five earthquake.

Amber turned to look at the small crowd of police officers and firefighters surrounding her perfect stranger, and she suffered her own six-point-five tremor.