Authors: Brenda Jernigan
Last night had been wonderful. Or what she could remember. She never knew she could feel this happy.
With a heart bursting with love, she rubbed her fingers happily across his chest and sighed.
"What are you thinking, this morning?" a husky male voice asked.
That voice. It-it was strange. "I was thinking how much I love you," she admitted but immediately regretted the words when she felt his muscles tense beneath her cheek.
She didn't miss the coldness in his tone when he asked, "Isn't this a little sudden?"
What was it about that voice? Maybe it was just her hangover. "I wouldn't call four years sudden. Don't tease me, Steven. I have a headache."
"It must be a hell of a headache if you think my name is
Steven
."
Dani’s hand jerked to a sudden stop as a cold fear crawled up her spine.
W-what did he say? She couldn't possibly have heard him correctly. Steven was just playing another sick joke on her.
Wasn't he?
Her hand trembled as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, then swung to face . . . .
Chapter Two
A stranger!
Danielle Kapur had no idea that she could move with such haste and agility as she leapt from the bed to position herself as far away from him as possible.
Her eyes widened in horror at the . . . the stranger she'd slept with. Oh God, what had she done and how had it happened? That was a stupid question, she scolded herself. She knew exactly how it had happened – she’d climbed in bed with the wrong person.
The man had his arms folded across his chest as he smiled at her. He didn't look anything like Steven. They were about the same height with the same coloring, close enough to mistake in the dark, maybe, but that was where the similarity ended. His strong jaw suggested he was a take-charge kind of guy, a guy who would take no nonsense from anyone. But he most certainly was no one she'd seen before.
"Who the hell are you?" she asked.
No answer. Instead, he stared at her with that same smug expression, reminding her of a cat who had cornered a mouse.
Danielle couldn’t stand the silence. "Well, aren't you going to say something?"
"Nice view," he commented leisurely, his grin widening as his gaze traveled over her body, seeming to burn every place it lingered.
Only then did Danielle glance down and realize she stood
stark naked
in front of him, her hands on her hips, asking for explanations.
"Pervert!" she spat, her face heating with embarrassment and humiliation. Quickly, she snatched the bedspread off the bed and wrapped it around her before turning back to face the enemy. "What are you doing here? And who are you?"
"If you remember correctly, sweetheart, I was here before you were." He propped a couple of pillows up on the headboard, apparently to make himself more comfortable. "If calling me Steven makes you feel better and calms you down, I'll gladly change my name."
"Changing your name won't help. Y--you're not who you're supposed to be ... I mean, you're not supposed to be here. Y--you're not who I expected!"
"Sorry to disappoint you," he said, a look of irritation flickering across his face. "I don't know what you're so excited about. I intend to pay you--" He raised a brow before continuing. "--for a job well done. And if you'd like to stay another night ... I'll double the price."
"Pay me," Dani tilted her head to the side. "For what?"
"Come now ... you're a modest little wh--"
"A--a whore?" Danielle's humiliation soared to new heights. Her cheeks heated like glowing, hot embers. As a matter of fact, her whole body burned with indignation. "You son of a bitch! How dare you speak to me like that!" It didn't matter that she'd slept with him--made mad passionate love to him—or at least she thought she had since she couldn’t remember, but he had no right to speak to her as if she were a tramp. Why, he didn't even know her. Which, she'd like to point out, was the problem. “I am not a whore!”
His brows drew together in puzzlement as if he finally realized that something wasn't right. "If you're not my birthday present, then who the hell are you?"
"I believe that's the exact question I asked you just a few minutes ago," Danielle informed him
.
She took a deep breath, then continued, "But seeing as you've lost your memory, I'll tell you who I am. My name is Danielle Kapur, and I came here to meet my--"
"I believe the name was Steven," the cad supplied with an expression of distaste as if he knew Steven.
“I can prove you’re in the wrong house.” Picking up the end of her bedspread as one would the train of a gown, Dani moved with as much dignity as she could muster to the side of the bed where her skirt lay crumpled on the floor. The accusing evidence reminded her all too well that she hadn't thought twice about removing her clothing last night. He must really think the worst of her. Flashbacks of the evening popped into her mind, especially when he'd run his hand up her skirt. She shook her head to dispel the image and fumbled in the pocket for the slip of paper she'd stuffed in there last night. She needed to prove that she wasn't crazy. Grasping the slip of paper, Dani shoved it at him. "See! That's the address he gave me."
Adrian unfolded the crumpled paper. Scrawled across the plain white sheet were three numbers 699. He smiled, and it took all of his willpower not to laugh at the twist of fate that had put this poor girl in the wrong house, at the wrong time and, to his satisfaction, with the wrong man. Turning the paper upside down he handed it back to her and said, "Are you sure it was 699 Sandy Lane?"
Dani gaped at the numbers. She'd been in a hurry when she'd jotted them down, and the doorbell had rung at the same time. She could have been mistaken. Then the stark cold realization hit her with a wallop. She should have gone to 669 Sandy Lane. The blood slowly left her face and she felt light-headed. She
had
come to the wrong house! What a terrible mistake.
God, she could just die.
Dani was thinking about fainting when she heard him chuckle as he smugly watched her mull over her predicament. He crossed his legs beneath the sheet which, thank the Lord, still covered his lower body, then he folded his hands behind his head. He could have, at least, had the decency not to laugh. Yet he seemed to be enjoying himself way too much.
Although she realized she'd probably regret it, Dani knew she had to do something to wipe that superior expression off his face. Then the full impact of what she'd done really sank in, and her eyes grew wide. "My God, I could get AIDS!"
She covered her mouth with one hand, but then the bedspread started to slide, and she had to clamp her arms down again. "How often do you do this? Have you ever had any diseases?”
She knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t stop herself. She peered at him sharply. "God knows what kind of other diseases you have. You probably do this all the time! Don't you?"
Her last remark hit home. At least, she had finally wiped the smirk off his face. Coldness clouded his dark, mysterious eyes, and Danielle sensed she'd better move, but before she could back away from the bed, he reached out and grabbed her arm, jerking her back onto the bed.
He pinned her arms above her head, his glowering face hovering just above hers. His brown eyes were almost black as he stared down at her.
Dani began to struggle, but he simply tightened his grip by squeezing her wrist until she stopped.
"No, sweetheart. I don't have to pay women," he whispered, between clenched teeth. "They're usually more than willing to have my attention." He paused, and she could tell he was trying to regain his composure. "And I can assure you, I have a clean bill of health. I don't believe I heard any complaints last night." A devilish gleam entered his eyes as he lowered his head and nuzzled her neck to prove his point.
"D--don't." Even to her own ears her protest sounded feeble.
His mouth moved over hers. His tongue tentatively urged her lips apart, sending liquid heat surging through her body and making her forget who she was and what she was doing here. Damn he was good.
Dani moaned, bringing them both back to their senses. When she dared to open her eyes, he tilted his head and smiled. Only then did Danielle realize he'd let go of her hands, and she had her fingers entangled in his hair. She was mortified at her wanton behavior.
"You don't seem to be thinking of your precious Steven now," he taunted her.
Steven was the farthest thing from her mind, but she’d never admit the truth. Placing both hands on his chest, she shoved him away and slid from the bed. "I won't be bothering you much longer. I'll get dressed and leave."
Adrian watched the hellcat walk haughtily toward the bathroom--in the wrong direction. "It's the other way," he told her, then chuckled when she pretended he hadn't spoken. At least she did change directions.
What a perfect beauty she was ... and what a stroke of luck ... no bad luck, Adrian decided. She was the only woman who had stirred his interest in a long, long time, and she already had a boyfriend, the unfortunate Steven.
Of course, he could tell her that she'd passed out and nothing happened, but that would spoil the fun. He grinned. Perhaps a little suffering would improve her disposition.
Adrian shoved out of bed, not caring that he was naked, and went to the closet to retrieve his favorite pair of ragged, blue jeans. As he donned a chambray shirt, he figured it was just as well she was leaving. He didn't have time for another woman complicating his life. His last girlfriend had complained that she talked to his secretary more than she talked to him. Women were trouble as far as he was concerned, and most only saw dollar signs dancing before their eyes.
Adrian made a decision -– he’d do the right thing. He could at least take Ms
. Kapur to the correct address and deposit her in her precious Steven's hands.
With that decision made, he needed some strong coffee. He had drunk a little too much last night, himself, and he needed the reviving caffeine. Adrian wondered how she would explain her absence to her boyfriend as he scooped the coffee out of the decanter and dropped it into a filter. After pouring water into the coffee maker, he rubbed the back of his neck. The son of a bitch had better not give Ms
. Kapur any trouble. After all, sleeping together had clearly been a mistake on both their parts.
Danielle tried to scrub the stranger's touch from her body, but it was no use. He seemed to have branded her with his strokes and his scent. All she had to do was shut her eyes and she could feel how his lips had caressed hers with the hottest kisses she'd ever experienced. Steven had never turned her into a quivering mass of jelly, mindless to everything around her.
But the man was a perfect stranger!
And
perfect
was the optimum word. Someone she knew nothing about. Hell, she didn't even know his name! That produced a rueful laugh. When she should have been running away, Dani found she wanted to find out his name. Somehow, her logical side seemed to have clicked off ever since she'd stepped into this house.
God, did her head hurt! She didn't need to be thinking--she needed to get moving.
"Damn, Dani. How could a nice girl like you get in this kind of situation?" She knew she was on the verge of hysteria, and she had to calm down. "Okay, Dani, you're a big girl. You can handle this. Take a couple of deep breaths. You can handle this!" She reached over and turned off the water.
Steven would make her forget. He would erase the interloper's touch. But did she want him too? She shook her head. Of course, she did.
After Dani dried off, she looked into her bag and pulled out a pair of navy blue shorts and her favorite chambray shirt which had belonged to her brother. She liked big, baggy, comfortable clothes at the beach.
She looked in the cabinet and found a hair dryer, which she used to dry her long, blonde hair. She didn't take time for makeup. She had to get out of this house. But what was she going to tell Steven? How could she have come to the wrong house?
She stared at her reflection in the mirror. There was no need for blush. Her cheeks had been stained a permanent rose from the moment she'd stepped into the beach house.
She'd always been attracted to olive-skinned men with dark hair. Why did he have to be so damned good looking? He favored a younger Andy Garcia, one of her favorite actors. Why couldn't he have an ugly wart right on the end of his nose with little hairs sticking out all around?
When Dani finally stepped out of the bathroom, peering out to see if the coast was clear, she was relieved to find she was alone. She scanned the room, making sure she hadn't forgotten anything before she made her escape. She had to get out of here! The sooner the better.
It was easy to find the kitchen. She just followed the smell of coffee. Her stomach grumbled, reminding Dani that she hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. When she saw the man standing in front of the stove cooking, she almost lost her appetite. He reached for a plate, his shirt stretching snugly across his shoulders, and her hunger returned.