“I want that in writing,” he muttered, glancing at her huge, swollen belly. He’d delivered a baby before, during his firefighting days, when the paramedics hadn’t arrived in time. It had been miraculous, awe-inspiring…and terrifying.

“Oh relax.” Without mercy, Suzette laughed at him. “I feel great.”

“Relaxing around you is impossible.”

“Really, I’m fine. Except for a contraction every two minutes.”

Now he tripped, and she laughed again. “I love you, Dax.”

She kept smiling at him, with huge, misty eyes, and he immediately slowed, slapping his pockets for a tissue, knowing from past experiences she was going to get all sappy on him and cry. “Dammit, Suzette.”

“I’m fine. Really.” But she sniffed and blinked her huge, wet eyes. “You’re just so sweet. So much a part of my life. And sometimes I can’t help but think about how we almost lost you to that earthquake.”

Dax started to shrug it off, but she stopped, planted herself and her big belly in front of him, and said, “Don’t act like it doesn’t matter, don’t you dare. If you hadn’t been talking to Shelley just before you stopped to check out that building, no one would have known where you were. We never would have found you in time.”

Because she was getting herself worked up, and making him very nervous while doing it, Dax tried to soothe her. “It worked out okay-”

“You know darn well it almost didn’t! The ceiling of that basement completely collapsed on itself only an hour after they got you and that woman out.”

That woman.

It had taken him all year, but Dax had managed to steel himself against the white-hot stab of regret he always felt at the thought of Amber. The pain had finally, finally, started to dissipate.

“What if we hadn’t gotten to you in time?” Suzette demanded. “You could have died, Dax. And you’re my favorite brother.”

“I’m your only brother.”

Suzette just shook her head and sniffed again. But he was tired of obsessing about the earthquake, and what had happened between him and Amber. It had invaded his thoughts, his life, his dreams for too long now. It was over. Over.

“Those hormones are really something,” he said, but he handed her a tissue. “Aren’t you tired of crying yet?”

“Nope, it feels good.” A big fat tear rolled down her cheek. “Thanks for driving me here.”

“Just as long as Alan makes sure to get off for the birth. I am most definitely not available for the coaching job.”

He was teasing her and they both knew it. He’d do anything she needed, and for just an instant, for one insane little spurt in time, Dax thought maybe he wouldn’t mind being a coach at all.

“Someday this will be you,” she said softly, bringing his hand to her belly so that he could feel the wonder of the baby’s movement.

“Not in the near future,” he said, but he spread his fingers wide, feeling the miracle beneath; moving, growing, living.

“It will be,” Suzette promised. “Someday, some woman is going to snag you, make you forget why you like being single. Trust me on this.”

Without warning, the memory of lying huddled beneath a desk, waiting to die, holding the frightened but courageous Amber hit him, hard. That day he’d prepared himself for a hysterical, whiny female, but she had surprised him with her inner strength, her quiet resolve to survive.

He’d been drawn to her on a level he couldn’t have imagined. Compared to his wonderful but flighty sisters, and the wild bombshells he had an admittedly bad habit of dating, Amber had seemed like a startling breath of fresh air.

He’d wanted, badly, to see her face, and for the first time in his life, it hadn’t been to determine if she was as sexy as her voice. He’d wanted to look into her eyes and see for himself if the connection between them was as real as it felt.

In those terror-filled moments, when they’d been so certain the end had come, they’d come together in the dark; desperate and afraid, hungry and needy, joining together to make unforgettable, perfect love, without ever having set eyes on each other.

It had been poignant, amazing…necessary. As necessary as breathing.

The image of Amber exploding in his arms wasn’t new; it was never far from his mind. What they’d shared had been incredible, as soul-shattering as the earthquake had been, and he couldn’t forget it, no matter how hard he tried.

And yet Amber obviously had.

Despite his best efforts to find her, she’d vanished. He’d gotten an all-too-quick glimpse of her that day, and though she’d been nothing like the women he usually found himself attracted to, he’d thought her short, sleek, dark hair and even darker eyes the most beautiful he’d ever seen.

At first he searched so diligently for her because there was every chance he had gotten her pregnant. That he hadn’t used a condom was disturbing, he always used protection. But then again, neither of them had expected to live through the experience.

By the time Dax tracked her down-not an easy feat when he hadn’t even known her last name-she’d been gone. He’d located her office, only to be told she’d taken a leave of absence. She’d subleased her condo.

No forwarding address.

Inexplicably devastated, Dax had gone to help fight the wildfires in Montana. He’d been there a month, during which time his disgruntled secretary messed up his office good, and then took another job.

When he’d gotten back, there were no messages, but by then he hadn’t expected any from Amber.

She was long gone.

Clearly, she’d wanted no reminder of that one day they’d shared, which was fine. He had his own life, which consisted of work, women and fun. He hadn’t looked back.

Much.

“Let’s sign you in,” he said to Suzette now, shaking the memories off. “This place is packed.”

AMBER WAS LATE. Her alarm hadn’t gone off, she’d annoyed a client by running behind, and now she was stuck in traffic.

Definitely, a terminally bad day.

Normally she’d have felt weighed down by all the stress. She’d have fought it with breathing techniques and her famed cool control.

But fighting wasn’t necessary, because none of it was important. Her life had forever changed on that fateful day she’d gotten caught in the earthquake, and now all that mattered was Taylor.

She pulled into the medical center knowing if she didn’t rush, she’d be late for their three-month pediatric appointment, and she hated that. She was never late, yet here she was racing through the parking lot with baby Taylor in her arms and a huge diaper bag hanging off her shoulder, hitting her with each stride.

If she’d gotten up on time, she chided herself, she wouldn’t be rushing now. But she was always so tired lately. It was all the change, she decided. Becoming a mother. Coming back to town after a yearlong…what?

What did one call it when a person ran away from her job, her home, her life?

A vacation, she reminded herself firmly. She’d never in her life taken one, certainly she’d been entitled. Just because she’d taken it immediately following the earthquake didn’t mean it had anything to do with the choices she’d made.

Neither did one rugged, sexy, unforgettable Dax McCall.

Nope.

God, what a liar she was. The cooing sound stopped her cold. Staring down into her daughter’s face, her heart simply tipped on its side.

Baby-blue eyes stared back at her. So had a kissable button nose, two chubby cheeks and the sweetest little mouth.

Love swamped her. Amber had never imagined herself a mother, but Taylor was the greatest thing that had ever happened to her, and looking into that precious face, she had absolutely no choice but to smile.

In response, Taylor let out an ear-splitting squeal and grinned, while cheerfully, uncontrollably waving her arms.

Amber’s heart twisted again and she bent, touching her nose to Taylor’s. “You are the sweetest baby that ever lived,” she whispered fiercely. “I love you.”

Taylor drooled, making Amber smile again, though her smile was bittersweet this time. Taylor was her family, her life, her everything. They were alone together.

And together the two of them would be just fine.

That’s what Amber repeated to herself as she strode breathlessly to the elevator and hit the button for the second floor. It didn’t matter that they were unwanted-Amber by her father, Taylor by hers.

They would survive.

As she waited, she smiled at her daughter and wondered for the thousandth time if Taylor had her daddy’s eyes. Were the light, crystal clear baby blues, the kind one could drown in, from Dax?

It still hurt, the not knowing. She’d tried, she reassured herself. The day after the earthquake, after she’d made the rash decision to go to Mexico for an extended vacation that had turned into a yearlong leave of absence, she’d attempted to see Dax.

In spite of her embarrassment at having to face the man she’d thrown herself at, she’d wanted to thank him for saving her life, for she held no illusions. She never would have survived without him, without his quick thinking and razor-sharp instincts, without his warm, safe arms and incredibly soothing voice.

She had no idea where he lived, but knew that as a fire inspector, he had to work out of the main fire house downtown. Somehow she’d summoned her courage to thank him in person, but when she’d gotten there, most of her bravery had faded in the face of reality.

She’d found him all right. He’d been in the break room with one of the firefighters. A woman. And they’d been laughing and teasing and flirting.

She’d prepared herself for anything, anything but that. Standing in the doorway watching, yearning, she thought she’d never seen anyone so open, so absolutely full of life.

He was definitely far more man than she was equipped to handle, and with her words of thanks stuck in her throat, she’d turned tail and run. Not exactly mature, but it was done. To make up for her silliness, she’d sent a thank-you card and flowers before she’d left town.

It hadn’t been until later, much later, that she’d discovered her condition.

Her pregnant condition.

The elevator doors of the medical building opened and Amber got on, straightening her shoulders and hugging Taylor close. To her credit, she had indeed again tried to reach Dax, and at that memory, she reddened with embarrassment.

She’d called his office from Mexico, not wanting anything from him, just needing to tell him. She figured she owed him that. He had a right to know.

He’d been in Montana, helping to fight the out-of-control range fires there. She’d left a message with an unsympathetic secretary, explaining where she was and only that she needed to talk to Dax.

He hadn’t returned the call.

She understood. He’d moved on.

Yet whatever his faults, he’d once been compassionate and caring to her, and because of that, he needed to hear the truth from her own lips. In person. Though it had been easier to hide all this time, she couldn’t continue it.

He had to know about Taylor.

And he would, she promised herself, now that she was back in town-just as soon as she figured out how to do it right.

The elevator doors opened and she entered a huge reception area, filled with women; young and old, sick and healthy, and very pregnant. Most had little children with them. Resigned to a long wait, Amber signed in and stood there, surveying the grumpy crowd, trying to find an empty seat. In her arms, a wide-awake Taylor shifted, stared at all the chaos around her, and let out a happy little gurgle.

“Glad someone’s so cheery,” Amber said with a helpless laugh. She dropped the heavy diaper bag to the floor and sighed in relief at the loss of the weight. Another grateful sigh came when she sank into an empty chair. Sitting had never felt so good.

But then, from across the room, a sea of waiting people between them, stood a man. Not just any man, but the one who could stop her heart cold.

Dax McCall.

And, oh God, he was staring right at her. What should she do?

All semblance of control flew out the window. So did reasoning. Sure, she could run, but even if her legs were working, running seemed so undignified. She could lie, but that was no good, either. Not only was she horrible at lying, she could never live with herself.

No, she alone had brought on this awkward situation, she would face it. Easier said than done, she thought wildly, still pierced by Dax’s unwavering, highly personal stare.

For a second she allowed herself to think-hope-he wouldn’t recognize her. After all, the last time he’d seen her, she’d been covered in dirt and debris, battered and afraid, and very unlike herself. And then after that, he’d not returned her call, nor acknowledged her card and flowers.