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.
