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It was hard to believe she had just spent an entire night in bed with Daniel Andreas. And slept through it. Whether from stress, exhaustion or both, she had simply gone unconscious.
She took a lengthy shower in the huge, ornately elegant bathroom. Afterward she applied a minimum of makeup, then dressed in one of the new outfits—a pale green sleeveless top with green-and-white-checked capris and green flip-flops. Studying herself in the mirror, she thought glumly that she looked like a soccer mom on her way to a PTA meeting. This was so not her.
Her gaze slid to the reflection of her left hand and the gold ring on her finger. Daniel's mother's ring.
She sank slowly to the edge of the bed, still looking at that ring. A simple gold band, it bore a few scratches that showed its age. It looked like what it was—a treasured memento.
Jarringly different mental images jockeyed for a moment in her mind.
Daniel at sixteen. Thin, dark, intense. Angry. Thread-bare clothes, shaggy hair, conversation that consisted mostly of monosyllables and curse words.
Daniel at twenty-nine. Sleek, groomed, cultured. His emotions well hidden behind a blandly congenial social mask. In some ways it was hard to believe it was the same person.
And yet…
She remembered a glimpse of rarely seen dimple. A brief flash of amusement at the memory of a long-ago practical joke.
Perhaps he had changed outwardly, but he was still the boy who had broken down in front of her when he had talked about finding his mother's body. Did he remember that powerful moment as clearly as she did? She would bet that he did. Maybe that was the reason he occasionally looked at her as though he would rather be anywhere other than with her now.
He entered the room so quietly that she didn't know he was there until he cleared his throat. She had never even heard the outer door open, which didn't reassure her about her safety in this luxurious suite.
As she rose to her feet, it was unexpectedly hard to meet his eyes. She kept remembering the boredom on his face when he had reassured her that he had no intention of making a pass at her during the night. He had all but told her outright that he wasn't attracted to her and that any evidence otherwise was merely an act he put on for the benefit of observers.
Even if he had only been trying to set her at ease about sleeping in the same room with him, it had been a fairly humiliating moment for her. She couldn't help thinking about the beautiful, busty blondes who seemed to have congregated at this resort. Perhaps they were more to Daniel's taste.
Not that she wanted to get involved with him, she assured herself hastily. He could be a criminal. At the very least, he was trouble.
“Good morning.”
Pride made her force herself to meet his eyes. “Good morning.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, quite well, thank you.”
She didn't have to ask the same of him. She knew he hadn't had more than a few hours of sleep, but he looked completely rested. His hair was neatly combed, his cream-colored shirt and tan pants impeccably pressed. Even though she was freshly showered and dressed and wearing more makeup than she usually favored, he still managed to make her feel slightly grubby in contrast to him.
His dark eyes mocked her stilted tone. “You look very nice.”
She looked down at her neatly matched clothing. “I look like a sitcom mom. All I need to finish off the look is a string of pearls.”
“Or this.” He pulled a thin rectangular box from his right pants pocket and extended it toward her.
Rather than taking it, B.J. eyed it suspiciously. “What is that?”
“You won't know until you open it.”
“I don't—”
He sighed and opened it himself, revealing a glittering diamond tennis bracelet. Each diamond was set in a circle of hammered gold.
B.J. knew little about jewelry, since she usually wore only a functional watch and a pair of diamond-stud earrings—half a carat each—her parents had given her for her college graduation, but she would estimate this bracelet to hold at least three carats of diamonds.
“You don't expect me to wear that?”
Daniel already had the bracelet out of its box. “I certainly do.”
“Why?”
