She smiled as Mr. J led her into the room, inhaling the scent of vanilla and roses. “It smells good in here.”

He gave a breathy chuckle and squeezed her hand. The bed squeaked as he sat and intertwined his fingers with hers. He breathed deeply and she could feel him watching her.

His tension was palpable as she stood in front of him, and she was tempted to read him. But would that violate their privacy agreement? And even if she did, it wasn’t like she could do anything about what she got from him. He was quick to keep her from touching him.

“Simon said you had some stressful business to deal with this week.”

His tension increased and he didn’t move. Had she upset him? She bit her lip.

Finally, he released one hand and ran his fingers across her bare stomach beneath the black halter-top she wore. He put his hand on her hip, pulling her closer, and then kissed across her stomach with soft caressing touches of his mouth.

“Oh!” He swirled his tongue in her belly button. His fingers flexed in the flesh of her hips, making her wince. He nipped at her hip and then kissed up between her breasts and captured her mouth in a passionate kiss. A desperate kiss.

Something was off, Anna was certain now. It was Mr. J, but something was different. His tongue thrust forcefully into her mouth, stoking her own passion, and she moaned softly. He pulled her closer, her body pressed against his chest. Her hands moved unconsciously to his shoulders, and she froze in shock when he didn’t pull them away. What was going on?

She kissed him back with as much passion as he kissed her with. She grasped the soft material of his shirt over his shoulders and felt hard muscle beneath. Why was he letting her touch him? Why did she care?

Her hands moved up his neck and into his hair, but it was caught in something. He had a ponytail? He growled and pulled her to him, twisting their bodies to fall back onto the bed with him on top of her.

The fire inside grew hotter, his passion fanning the flames. She pulled at the elastic band to free his hair and tangled her fingers in it.

His kiss never faltered in intensity, and he continued invading her mouth with his tongue. He pressed his hips against hers and he moved his hand down to her neck, stroking her cheek just in front of her ear.

He gasped and broke away from her mouth, leaving her lips throbbing as he kissed his way down her neck. He nipped and she inhaled sharply. His hand moved down to her breast and pulled at her shirt until it tore open and he could cup it with his hot, bare hand.

She moved one hand around to his face, feeling the scratchy hair of his beard. He sucked hard on her nipple and she cried out and arched her back, pulling his head harder against her breast.

She slid her hand lower, and her fingers brushed fabric. Lower, her fingers brushed against buttons and she began to unfasten them. He pulled her shirt off and it dropped to the floor.

She pulled at as many buttons as she could reach while he kissed her breasts and then tried to sit up so she could undo the rest. He pushed her down and growled. “Nein.”

A chill ran through her body and they both froze. Her chest heaved, trying to suck in a breath that refused to come. He didn’t move, but she could feel him staring at her.

He’d spoken. In German. In a voice that haunted her dreams.

No! It had to be some sort of cruel trick her mind was playing on her. Lots of men had low voices. And spoke German.

She tried to push him away. He didn’t move and she kicked at him. “Let me go!” Finally, the unmoving tower moved, and she rolled until she fell off the bed to the floor and onto her hands and knees, head hanging down and gasping for breath.

After a long moment, she shook her head. “I have to go,” she whispered. She yanked the blindfold off and stared at the cream-colored carpet beneath her face. “I promise I won’t look at you. But I have to go.” She searched for her shirt, avoiding looking up, and finally located it at the foot of the bed.

She pulled her shirt on as best she could, holding it together since he’d torn it, and turned away from the bed as she stood. “Thank you for everything. But I think we should end things now.” She would never be able to be with him again without thinking of Alex, and she couldn’t deal with that.

She put her hand to the side of her face, shielding the sight of the bed from her view, and hurried to the door. Her hand was on the knob when he spoke, his voice full of pain.

“Anna. Don’t leave. Please.”

It didn’t surprise her that he knew her real name. He knew who and what she was. But the sound of his voice made her want to cover her ears and scream to block out the chance of ever having to hear it again. It was so much worse than her dreams of Alex. There was a man alive that sounded like him. That felt like him...

Why couldn’t she turn the knob and leave? Why wouldn’t her body listen to her mind?

“Schatzi...” The bed squeaked and she felt him coming closer.

Her heart dropped and she shook her head as tears burned her eyes. “No... No, you’re dead.”

He stood behind her, his body heat dissolving the chills that ran through her body. He put his hands on her upper arms and turned her around. “Nein, Anna. I am alive.”

Chapter 143