Slowly, so she would know what he was doing and have time to protest, he slipped his free hand around to rest on her back. He gently urged her forward, leaning into her at the same time. Carefully, deliberately, he lowered his mouth to hers. At the last second he paused, waiting for her to push him away.
Instead she touched his lips with hers.
She was soft and sweet, and he wanted to claim her instantly. Instead he forced himself to hold back. He kissed her gently, brushing against her tenderly. As he wrapped both his arms around her he was careful not to make any sudden movements. He knew that she spent a lot of her day in pain, and he wasn’t sure what parts of her might be tender.
He inhaled, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and floral perfume. There was another fragrance. Something subtle he couldn’t identify. It tugged at the corners of his mind in an almost familiar way. Something…
He forced the questions away. He didn’t want to think about anything but Rose. He brushed his mouth against hers, back and forth, exploring her, feeling her respond to him. Her breathing quickened. Her hands rested on his shoulders, then slid down his back. When she pulled him against her, he went willingly, wanting to feel her full breasts flatten against his chest.
With his eyes closed, his other senses sharpened. Desire grew inside of him. He lightly licked her bottom lip, testing to see if she wanted the kiss to continue. When her mouth parted for him, he felt a jolt of heat in his groin. Blood rushed south, making him uncomfortably aware of his need.
He slipped his tongue between her lips. As he did, he found his hands moving up and down her back in a way that was almost familiar. One of her hands moved up until her fingers tunneled through his hair. There was a rhythm to their movements. A familiar rhythm. Although he knew he was kissing Rose he was suddenly reminded of Josie.
Damn. Del opened his eyes to orient himself. He was with Rose. He was in her bedroom, kissing her. What the hell was Josie doing in his head?
He deepened the kiss in an effort to chase his ex-wife from his mind. In the three years she’d been gone, he’d never once thought of her while kissing another woman. But he was thinking of her now.
Rose, he told himself. Only Rose. The bodies were completely different. Rose was all curves-full breasts and hips. Her face, her hair, all of her. Rose.
Josie.
The thought intruded, breaking his concentration. Suddenly it was Josie’s taste, her scent, filling his mind. He broke the kiss and stumbled to his feet. Rose opened her eyes and looked at him. Those eyes. So blue. So much like Josie’s.
Anger and confusion filled him. Nothing made sense. He stared down at the woman in front of him, taking in her long, blond hair, her full, suddenly familiar mouth.
“Who are you?” he growled. “Who the hell are you?”
Chapter Eight
The question echoed in Josie’s ears.
She heard the words, understood their meaning, but she couldn’t speak. She was too stunned by the shock she felt from the impact of Del’s kiss. Too overwhelmed by passion, the past and her own realization that nothing was as she’d thought it would be.
She’d known Del was going to kiss her, even before he’d gathered her close and pressed his mouth to hers. Even through her pain at his latest revelation about their failed marriage, she’d recognized the light of need in his eyes, the desire and wanting in his expression. She’d allowed him to pull her against him because she’d needed something to ease her pain.
She’d thought that kissing him might help to make her feel better. She’d also thought it might be nice to know if there was still some passion between them. She’d expected to enjoy the contact, but she hadn’t thought she would be swept away. Nor had she expected to find an unwelcome truth.
He repeated his question and she tried to answer. But she couldn’t speak. She was too caught up in what she’d learned. She hadn’t come back to Beachside Bay because she wanted closure. She’d come back because when she’d thought she was dying, Del was the one person she’d been thinking about. She’d come back because she was still in love with him.
The implications of that-being in love with a man who regretted every second of their marriage-nearly overwhelmed her. Her legs began to tremble as a great weakness swept through her body. Her pulse felt fast and faint at the same time.
No, not that. She couldn’t still be in love with Del. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t fair. He hated her, or at least despised her. He thought she was selfish, stubborn and lousy in bed. The only thing he respected about her was a body she no longer controlled.
She wanted to run away, to hide forever. She wanted to distract him or make up some other lie. Instead she squared her shoulders and forced herself to look at him. She was done with pretending. The time had come to face a situation entirely of her own making.
“I’m Josie,” she said. “I know I look and sound different, but that’s because of the accident.”
Del shook his head in denial. Josie? His Josie? He stared at the woman sitting in front of him and tried to find some piece of the woman he’d known…and married. His mind reeled as he attempted to believe what she was saying. His senses-the ones engaged during the kiss-told him she was telling the truth. The rest of him refused to believe it.
“Josie?”
Was it possible? He studied the unfamiliar face, looking for a trace of the woman he’d lived with for three years. He searched her eyes, accepting the color and shape was the same. Her mouth, too. But the rest of her? He shook his head. Everything had changed. Her cheeks, her chin, her hair. Her body.
He swore under his breath as he looked-really
“You can’t be,” he said.
“If you’re caught up in the physical changes, I have trouble accepting them myself,” she said quietly, her voice low and unfamiliar.
He took another step back. “But you don’t just look different, you sound different.”
“I know. There was minor damage to my vocal cords. Nothing serious, but it changed the pitch of my voice.”
She was so damned calm and rational. As some of the shock wore off, anger seeped into him. Anger and rage and a sense of having been played for a fool.
“What kind of game is this?” he demanded. “What did you think you were doing, lying to me? Is this a joke?”
He glared at her, demanding answers. The old Josie would have pushed back, harder and longer, turning things around so everything was his fault. But this new Josie-a woman he couldn’t connect with the one he’d known before-simply shook her head.
“I don’t have a good response to that,” she admitted, not quite meeting his eyes.
“That’s not good enough. What do you want? Why did you come back here?”
She swallowed. If he hadn’t known better, he would swear that she was hurt and more than a little scared. But that wasn’t possible. Nothing scared Josie and she didn’t care about anyone enough to get hurt. She only cared about herself and winning.
He pulled out the chair he’d sat in before and slumped heavily in the seat. He couldn’t get a handle on all the new information. Because the woman he’d known before had nothing in common with the woman he’d gotten to know over the past few weeks. Delicate, pretty Rose with the flowing dresses and long wavy hair was nothing like his ex-wife. Not in looks, attitude or personality.
