of their relationship had turned her into someone she hadn’t recognized—a needy, insecure woman. She had spent hours analyzing and reanalyzing everything he said and did when she should have just trusted her instincts and dumped the cheating jerk before he dumped her.
Now she had a chance to start over. Pretending to be Carleen would give her an opportunity to break out of all her bad habits. To create a new and improved Mia Maldonado.
“Carleen?”
She blinked, then realized Hannah had just asked her another question. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
She smiled. “You’re all set now. Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m fine.” Mia folded her arms on top of the thick comforter, her fingers nervously strumming the embroidered guitar threads.
“Dr. Longo will be in soon.”
“All right.” She kept her gaze on the ceiling, afraid if she moved one of the electrodes would become disconnected. Hannah disappeared from view and she heard the door creak open, then close again as the assistant took her leave.
A moment later, the door creaked open again and Harlan Longo walked into her view.
“Hannah tells me you’re ready to go to sleep.”
“I’ll do my best,” she replied, not feeling the least bit sleepy.
“I know you will.” He reached out to pat her shoulder gently. “And I’d like to thank you for assisting me in my research.”
“What exactly are you testing in this room?” she asked, wondering if she’d wake up in subzero temperatures. “If I remember right, you’re researching how different environments affect sleep patterns.”
“That’s correct,” he replied. “But we never tell our research subjects what to expect ahead of time. That way, your anticipation of the change in environment won’t affect the readings. For instance, a subject anticipating a hot room might throw off the bed covers before he goes to sleep. If it’s a cold room, he might wear his socks to bed.”
Mia thought the anticipation of not knowing what was going to happen might have a greater affect on the readings, but it was Dr. Longo’s experiment so she didn’t question him on it.
“Don’t worry,” he said, sensing her apprehension. “The music will help you fall asleep.”
She considered telling him it would do just the opposite, but didn’t have the heart after he’d gone to so much trouble with the Elvis room. The more time she spent with Harlan, the more she liked the man—even if he was a little odd.
He walked over to the door and dimmed the lights. “Sweet dreams, Carleen.”
She smiled to herself in the soft glow of the jukebox, thinking Harlan would make a better grandfather than scientist. “Good night.”
As he left the room, she wondered if the rumors she’d heard about him were true. After his wife’s death, there had been subtle speculation in the newspapers that his neglect of her medical condition had led to her early demise, despite the Longos having enough money to afford the best medical care in the world.
Now, having met the man, she simply couldn’t believe it. Harlan didn’t seem like a ruthless businessman to her. He might be a little strange, judging by his various research projects, but so were a lot of people.
She lay stiffly in the bed, too aware of the wire cables tethering her to the jukebox to relax. Several minutes passed, until she finally grew bored enough to close her eyes and practice the relaxation techniques that Carleen had taught her after her breakup with Ian.
Breathing in deeply through her diaphragm, she held her breath for a moment, then slowly released it, letting the tension flow out of every pore of her body. She repeated this technique several more times, gradually becoming more comfortable.
When Elvis began to sing “Love Me Tender,” the music soothed her like a lullaby. By the end of the song, she forgot about the relaxation breathing and began to drift off to sleep.
Floating in a twilight haze, she was dimly aware of the door creaking open, then closing again. Footsteps padded on the carpet, but she kept her eyes closed, drowsily telling herself it was just Hannah coming to check on her.
Mia dozed, barely aware of someone moving quietly around in the room. Then her senses came alive at the sound of the bedsprings bouncing beside her and the spicy scent of male aftershave.
She opened her eyes and the glow of the jukebox revealed a man lying next to her in bed, staring right back at her.
Ruggedly handsome, with a slight crook in his nose and a small scar over his right eyebrow, he far surpassed any dream lover she’d ever imagined. But when he spoke, Mia knew she wasn’t dreaming.
“So what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”
She bolted upright in the bed and screamed.
He sat up, too, the gold lamé comforter falling to reveal a snug gray T-shirt that outlined the impressive width of his shoulders and the rippling muscles of his chest and torso. He wore his hair short, like a Marine, but she couldn’t tell the color of his eyes because his gaze had dropped to her breasts, where her pert nipples were visible through the thin cotton fabric of her pink nightshirt.
She grabbed the comforter, pulling it up to her neck, then jabbed the button on the headboard several times. “What do you think you’re doing in here?”
A wickedly sexy smile kicked up one side of his mouth. “I think I just asked you that same question.”
Before she could reply, the door to the suite swung open and Harlan hurried into the room. “Is there a problem?”
She pointed to the intruder. “I just found this man in my bed!”
“So?” Harlan replied, looking perplexed.
She blinked. “So? That’s all you have to say? So?”
The man leaned back against the headboard. “I don’t think she was expecting me, Harlan.”
That was the understatement of the century. She turned to Harlan, the wire cables limiting her movement. “I don’t know what kind of girl you think I am, but if this research center is just a front for making a porn movie or is some kind of kinky sex club, then I’m not interested—”
“Now just hold on there,” Harlan admonished, raising both hands. “This is legitimate scientific research, Carleen. You’re going to skew all the readings if you keep jumping around like that.”
“Then do something about him,” she insisted, forcing herself to lie still. “Call the police or one of your security guards and get him out of here.”
Harlan’s brow furrowed as he moved around to her side of the bed. “I don’t think you understand, Carleen. Nate Cafferty is your new environment.”
She blinked. “What?”
“This is an experiment about how different environments affect sleep patterns,” he reminded
