night, so he’d have no way back anyway.

“No. You can sleep at my place tonight. The ferry will be here tomorrow morning. You can go back then.” His eyes questioned mine, and to avoid any confusion, I hastily added, “I have a really comfy sofa. You can sleep there.”

We left the café, and by the time we’d reached my cottage, I felt so bad about the whole situation that I insisted I stay on the sofa and Julian take the bed. It took awhile for him to agree, but he finally acquiesced. I quickly showed him around upstairs, grabbed a pair of pajamas from the dresser, and left Julian to his own devices in my bedroom. Hurriedly I made my way back downstairs.

After enough time had elapsed for Julian to fall asleep, I dialed Adam’s cell phone. It went straight to voicemail, so I left a message, asking him to “please call me as soon as possible” so we could talk.

Once I shrugged out of my clothes, I slipped on the comfortable, oversized flannel pajamas I’d brought down from upstairs. With little cartoon dogs and cats all over them, they were the unsexiest ones I owned, making them a perfect choice in case Julian wandered downstairs for something. Encouraging him was the last thing I wanted to do. Drowsy, I turned out the lamp and lay back on the sofa. With a throw pillow beneath my head and a quilt thrown over my body, sleep came quickly.

At some point in the middle of the night, I woke up abruptly, certain I’d heard footsteps close by. “Julian?” I whispered, allowing my eyes to adjust to the shapes and shadows in the room, illuminated only by slivers of moonlight pouring in through half-closed blinds.

“Not your ex-boyfriend,” a voice purred from close by, startling me.

I shot upright and pulled my legs up to my chest, but then the shape at the foot of the sofa came into focus. “Adam,” I ventured. “W-w-what are you doing in here?”

Stepping around the arm of the sofa, he sat down beside me. My heart began to race in both fear—and anticipation—of what was coming next. I noticed Adam had changed clothes; he now wore all black—black leather jacket, black low-hanging jeans, black T-shirt that clung enticingly to the lean muscles of his chest. He looked dark and dangerous. And, I hated to admit, sexy as hell.

“Shhhh.” Adam’s tone was low and mocking. “You don’t want to wake up your houseguest, now do you? After all, your ex-lover probably wouldn’t approve of my being here.”

“He was more than a lover, Adam,” I snapped, glancing to the staircase. It was clear Adam knew exactly who Julian was, so I added, “How did you know who he was anyway?”

My uninvited guest chuckled as he shucked off his jacket, the scent of leather…and Adam…wafting my way. “I certainly hope you don’t allow just any guy who happens upon the island to sleep in your bed,” he chided.

“Seriously, Adam,” I said. “How did you know?”

“Maddy, Maddy, so naïve,” he tsked, draping an arm casually on the back of the sofa. “Do you really think I wouldn’t have thoroughly checked out your previous, uh, suitors?”

A flare of anger blazed through me. Was there anything Adam didn’t know about my life? Irritated, I hissed, “What are you doing here? I know I locked the doors, so how’d you even get in?”

He held out a keychain with several keys attached. “Madeleine, do you really need to ask?” He jangled the keys softly. “Nothing on this island is off-limits to me.”

I swallowed hard, the implication of his statement not lost on me. As if to punctuate his meaning, Adam stood, kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head. His sculpted bare chest, bathed in silvery moonlight, held my eye. At least until he casually threw his shirt to the floor, flipped open the top button on his jeans, and then dropped back down to the sofa in a crouch.

I gasped as he crawled up the sofa toward me, trapping me in a cage created by his arms. I curled my knees tighter to my chest, but he reached out and adjusted each one—none too gently—to either side of his body. With one arm, muscles taut, holding him up, and his other hand on my knee, he whispered, “So Madeleine, who invited your friend to my island?”

“Not me,” I answered, biting my lip, my eyes drawn to his flexing chest muscles as he lowered himself until our bodies were pressed together. “It was Ami,” I continued. “Uh, she’s in Los Angeles. She told him I was in danger,” I breathed out, excitement mounting as Adam trailed soft, warm kisses along my jaw and down my neck while I was speaking.

“Ami, huh?” he mumbled distractedly against my skin. “In California, eh? Crazy girl.”

This was a side of Adam I’d not yet seen, and though it frightened me, it also thrilled me. I knew I should make him stop, make him go—after all, what right did he have to break into this place?—but I couldn’t do it. The danger, the wrongness of it all with Julian just up the stairs. I had to admit, those things excited me.

I ran my hands along Adam’s bare skin, up his back, to his broad shoulders. God, I felt so small beneath him. He lifted up just enough to begin unbuttoning my pajama top—from the bottom up. Warm fingers grazed the skin of my abdomen, lighting tiny fires in their wake. Adam seemed more fixated on getting my clothes off than in discussing why Ami might be in LA. And at this point, so was I.

“How chivalrous of… Julian, is it?” Adam didn’t wait for an answer, though his fingers stilled at the second button from the top. “How chivalrous of Julian to rush all the way out here to my island to rescue you.”

“Adam,” I said, my breath quickening as he undid those last two buttons, “we both know

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