Page 5 of Switching Places

“Europe,” he said impatiently.

God, this wasn’t Pierre, was it? The only picture she’d seen of her brother-in-law had been blurred as he’d been turning when it was snapped. Pierre was tall with dark hair. Lily’s ex-husband would know in two seconds she wasn’t his former wife.

Suddenly the daring thoughts of stepping into Lily’s shoes seemed childish and foolish. How could she pretend to be Lily Rambeau? Much as she might enjoy life in the fast lane for a week or two, there was too much she didn’t know about her sister to fool anyone. Like who this gorgeous man was for starters and why he felt he had a right to invade Lily’s kitchen at—

She glanced at the clock. It wasn’t even seven.

He noticed her look and smiled.

“Early for you. I’m surprised you got up.”

Slowly she looked at him again. She wished he would stop staring at her. Her skin tingled and felt too tight. She didn’t likethe sensation, yet didn’t know how to stop feeling so...so aware of him as aman.Or herself as a woman.

He needed a shave, and she wanted to run her fingertips over the scruff of his beard. His clothes were wrinkled, as if he’d slept in them. He looked tired, leaning against the counter. And she wanted to offer him a bed.

A bed?

To rest in, not to—

She took a breath, she couldn’t just blurt out that she didn’t know him. Yet if she didn’t find out soon, she would give herself away.

“Aren’t you going to give me a big kiss hello?” he asked softly, amusement lurking beneath his tone, showing in his eyes.

He didn’t move. Sprawled against her counter, his legs spread to hold him, the cup again tilted against his lips, he looked as blatantly masculine as any man she’d ever come in contact with. She wasn’t used to men like this. Was he typical of California men? Or was he Pierre Antoine Rambeau? She’d never met her sister’s husband. They had married hurriedly, no time for a fancy wedding, to their mother’s dismay.

And of course Lily never came to Charlottesville, so the family hadn’t met her husband before the divorce. There had been no need once they separated.

Did he really expect a kiss?

Licking suddenly dry lips, her gaze moved to his mouth. His lips quirked in a half smile. For a second Emma wondered what they’d feel like against hers.

She snapped her gaze back to his, and shook her head.

“In your dreams.”

He threw back his head and laughed, the sound rich and infectious. His eyes danced in amusement.

“For a moment I almost thought you’d call my bluff,” he said.

She shook her head again, giving thanks for a touch of sanity.

Yet the longing to offer a kiss remained strong.

His green eyes blazed down at her as she stepped a bit closer to him. She felt his heat, breathed in a disturbingly erotic male scent. She took a deep breath, held it as her eyes searched his. Slowly he put his cup on the counter, never moving his gaze from hers. The amusement in his eyes confused her. Was she behaving totally foreign to Lily?

Striving for some composure, hoping he didn’t see how wobbly her knees felt or notice the stain of color in her cheeks, she smiled and shrugged.

“Have a good trip?”

Her heart beat rapidly as she frantically tried to think as her sister would, to act like a cosmopolitan jet-setter who knew how to handle a man as dangerous as this one.

“People don’t go to work on software snafus to have a good trip. It would have been cheaper and easier to devise the special effects they needed and forget about their doing it themselves. But, yes, the trip went okay. The food was great. Italian hotels leave a lot to be desired, however.”

This was Lily’s neighbor, the one she’d said would be gone for weeks. The relief he wasn’t Pierre coursed through her in a tangible wave. But she wasn’t safe yet. What was his name?

Stalling, hoping she never had to call him by name, she poured herself a cup of coffee and went to perch on the edge of a chair at the table set in the bay window. From here she had a fantastic view of the ocean.

The kitchen came furnished with all the gadgets and equipment for a gourmet cook. Did her sister cook? Somehow they’d never discussed it. The cupboards were stocked with food, as was the refrigerator, most of the food acquired last night after dinner. They’d eaten at a quiet little restaurant, then Lily drove to the huge supermarket that remained open all night.

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