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She drew a deep breath, then let it out slowly while she stared at the ribbon of moonlight that lay draped across the room like an ivory streamer.
What a strange man Roarke Campbell was. He’d seemed hostile and unyielding, yet he had taken care of her in her illness, even brought her to his home.
It was just as well he wasn’t the man she’d come seeking.
He would never do as a father.
It was even difficult to imagine him married. A man like that would never find a woman to please him. He was too private, too harsh, too—
She thought suddenly of how he’d held her close to him on the boat when she’d felt dizzy, of how he’d carried her to this room. She had sensed the repressed power in his touch, the strength of his hard body. What would it be like to feel that body pressed against hers, to tremble in his arms? What would it be like to cry out for his possession…?
A hot flush rose along her skin.
Was this what a concussion did to you? Did it make your imagination run riot? Make you think things you’d never, in a million lifetimes, thought before?
“Señorita?”
Jennifer turned toward the door. A plump, middle-aged woman smiled tentatively at her.
“I did not wish to disturb you. But the señor thought you might like some fruit juice.”
“No, thank you. Not just now.” She hesitated. “Constancia? That is your name, isn’t it?” The woman nodded. Jennifer touched her tongue to her lips. “I was just wondering—is Señor Campbell married?”
Constancia’s eyes seemed to darken. “No,” she said after a moment, “he has no wife. Good night, señorita.”
The door swung shut, leaving Jennifer alone with the absolute knowledge that Roarke Campbell was not the man who’d adopted her child.
He was a bachelor
If she’d had any last, lingering doubt that he was the man she’d set out to find, it was gone.
She’d have to put today behind her and start her search all over. And what a day it had been. She felt as if she’d spent it wandering through a house of mirrors. Things looked real until you got close, and then they turned out to be nothing but illusion.
Like Roarke. Was he cold and unfeeling? Or was there another side to him after all?
Jennifer’s lashes fluttered to her cheeks. It didn’t really matter, she thought hazily. By this time tomorrow, she’d be back in San Juan, and Roarke Campbell would be nothing but a memory. A memory…
Her sigh drifted into the still night air, and she tumbled into a long, deep sleep.
Chapter Four
Jennifer awoke abruptly.
At first, she was disoriented. This wasn’t her bedroom. It wasn’t her hotel room…
Then it all came back.
The Campbell building. The car.
The accident.
She hissed softly as she rolled onto her side. Her head still hurt a little, but she’d got away lucky. She grimaced as she thought of the injuries she might have sustained. But it hadn’t been her fault. Following the man she’d believed had adopted her daughter…
Necessary, if she wanted to find her baby. And she had to find her.
Didn’t she?
She shifted uneasily beneath the soft cotton quilt.
