relationship. But Adam deserved to know the truth. How her mother had left her husband for another man, taking twelve-year-old Josie with her. How her father, Glenn Sinclair, had snapped at the double loss and done something extreme. Something Josie still didn’t completely understand.
Glenn had picked up his daughter for a weekend visit shortly after the bitter divorce, asking her to go with him on a grand adventure. She’d agreed, ready to do anything to see her father smile again. Not realizing her mother would be frantic when she didn’t return at the designated time. Not knowing a little girl couldn’t fix a broken heart.
They’d spent the next month and a half traveling from state to state, never staying in one place for long. Her father had continued to call their life on the road a grand adventure, but Josie had missed her mother—something she couldn’t tell her father without making him cry.
Josie had come to believe her father needed her more than her mother did, but she couldn’t help calling home late one night, just to hear her mother’s voice again, and to assure her mother that she was all right.
The authorities had traced the call and tracked them down in Missouri. They were transported back to Colorado, where, to her horror, her father was sentenced to one year in prison on child abduction charges. Their grand adventure had turned into a grand disaster.
Josie closed her eyes and swallowed a sigh, knowing she couldn’t keep evading her boyfriend’s questions about her family. The sooner she told him the truth, the sooner they could move on with their own lives. Last night had shown her they were meant to be together. That she could trust him.
Adam stirred behind her and Josie felt a funny little quiver deep in her belly at the thought of making love to him again. She couldn’t wait. Judging by the growing arousal pressed against her backside, neither could he.
She turned around to kiss him…and saw a stranger staring back at her!
Josie screamed in horror, scrambling out of the bed and dragging the black satin sheet with her. She clutched it to her chest, her heart pounding like a jackhammer. “Who are you?”
The man arched a dark brow as he sat up on one elbow. “I was about to ask you the same question.”
He didn’t seem to mind the fact that he was completely naked. Powerful muscles flexed in his broad shoulders and she couldn’t help but notice the deep tan lines at his waist and thighs, not to mention his impressive erection. She jerked her gaze up again, heat flooding her face.
This couldn’t be happening to her. She’d planned everything so carefully—taken every precaution. But something had gone terribly wrong. This man was not Adam. Her boyfriend had blond hair and light-blue eyes. This stranger was dark everywhere, with thick brown hair and keen brown eyes that seemed to penetrate the sheet in front of her.
Tender areas of her body reminded her just what this man had done to her last night—what they’d done together. She met his gaze and knew he was thinking the same thing. She gulped hard and retreated farther from the bed, until her back hit the wall.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, concern and confusion furrowing his brow.
She sucked in a deep breath. “There’s been a horrible mistake.”
He blinked at her words, then sat up and turned his back to her before she could read his expression. Leaning down to snatch his navy-blue boxer shorts off the floor, he said, “It’s a little late for regrets now, isn’t it?”
Regrets? He couldn’t begin to know how much she regretted what happened between them last night. How would she ever explain it to her boyfriend? He’d never believe her. Especially when the two men were so physically different.
It had been too dark to see those differences last night, though she should have been able to feel some of them. The wide breadth of his chest and shoulders. The taut ripples of muscle across his belly. But in her own defense, she’d never seen her boyfriend without his clothes on before and she certainly hadn’t expected to find another man in his bed!
Which brought up another question. Where was her boyfriend? “Do you mind telling me what you’re doing here?”
He looked at her like she was crazy. “I live here.”
“Adam Delaney lives here,” she countered, wrapping the sheet around her. Josie recognized the heavy oak bedroom furniture and the African art on the walls and the colorful Persian rug on the beige carpet. Everything was familiar—except him.
“I am Adam Delaney.” He met her gaze. “Don’t you remember calling out my name last night?”
She was in no mood to reminisce. “You are not Adam. Not my Adam, anyway. I think I know my own boyfriend.”
He frowned as he pulled on his boxer shorts, then rose to his feet. The man had a good three inches on her boyfriend and at least thirty pounds. How could she have let this happen? Adam would never believe her. Not in a million years.
“Look, lady,” he said, “I don’t know what your problem is, but I am Adam Delaney. This is my apartment. My bed.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Do I have to show you my identification?” he asked, walking over to the dresser. He retrieved his wallet and pulled out his driver’s license, along with his passport.
His name was there in black and white. Along with his other vital statistics. She stared at his picture, wondering if she was in the midst of some crazy nightmare. Then she spun on her heel and escaped into the living room. Feeling a little dizzy, she plucked her slacks and blouse out of her bag.
He followed her. “Now tell me who you are and how you got into my apartment.”
She tucked the sheet under her chin to cover herself and hastily pulled on her clothes. She had no intention of giving this stranger her name or any other information. He already knew her much too well.
“Something’s not right,” she said, more to herself than to him. “I know this apartment. I know Horatio. I know Adam Delaney—and you’re not him.”
“You can call my mother if you’d like,” he said wryly, leaning against the doorway. “She’ll tell you that’s been my name since the day I was born thirty years ago. She’ll also tell you that I’ve been on a photo shoot in South America for the past four months. I just got back yesterday.”
He had to be lying. Had he done something to her Adam? Hurt him? She finished dressing, then let the satin sheet fall to the floor. Her blouse was buttoned wrong, but she was too upset to care.
He advanced on her. “I think we should start over.”
Her gaze dropped to the sizable bulge in his boxer shorts. What exactly did he mean by start over? Josie didn’t intend to stick around long enough to find out. Whirling, she scooped up her overnight bag with one hand and ran toward the apartment door.
“Hey, wait a minute,” he called after her.
She heard heavy footsteps behind her and almost tripped over the cat. But she reached the front door before he did, slamming it behind her, then she raced for the elevator at the end of the long hallway.
Luckily, the elevator doors slid open as soon as she pressed the button. She
