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She grabbed at the arms of the chair to steady herself and did as she was told. This was not the vacation she’d expected. Her heart pounded in her chest as she came to a decision. Maybe when he heard the truth, he would calm down. “I’m not who you think I am.”
He snickered.
“Really, I’m not Allie Miller.”
“So I’m supposed to believe you’re not Alley Cat—excuse me, Allie Miller—even though you look and sound exactly like her and you’re at an advertising conference?”
This wasn’t going well. “She’s my twin sister.”
“Ha! That’s a good one. Not as good as the scheme you came up with back in Charleston, but certainly worth hearing about.” He sat in his desk chair, leaned back with fingers laced behind his head and spoke to the ceiling. “Go on. This should be interesting.”
Scheme? What kind of scheme? Nothing Allie had shared with her. Charlotte sat dumbfounded.
“I’m waiting.” Sam’s tone made it clear he would brook no more deceit.
Where to begin? “My name is Charlotte, and Allie Miller is my twin sister.”
“Charlotte? As in ‘rhymes with harlot?’” His words burned her like acid.
“You’re being unfair, as well as rude.” She spoke as firmly as she was able. “Please let me explain before you pass judgment.”
He went back to contemplating the ceiling. “Go on.”
“Allie and I are identical twins who were adopted by two different families as newborns. We met a few months ago.”
Sam guffawed.
“It’s true.” Charlotte cleared her throat, needing to sound truthful to both Sam and herself. “Our birth mother delivered us in a prison hospital and her greedy lawyer brokered separate private adoptions. Neither of us knew we had a sister, let alone a twin.” But her mother knew. A stab in her heart from another direction.
“Nice touch, mother gave birth behind bars.”
“It’s the truth.” She wasn’t sure why she was telling him all this, since he obviously didn’t want to believe her.
“Why are you here and not your other personality, I mean your ‘twin’?” His use of finger quotes was when her patience ended.
She stood, making herself as tall as possible, her neck straining at the effort. “That’s it. You have no right to keep me here. You don’t believe a word I’ve said, so I’m leaving.” She crossed the small office to the closed door.
Before she could grasp the handle, he dashed around the desk, knocking his chair back into the window ledge. He slapped his palm on his closed office door above her head.
She turned to confront him, not realizing how close he was. He hovered mere inches away. She placed her palm on his chest, planning to push him back.
Instead, she stopped when his warmth penetrated her hand, then spread up her arm and through the rest of her body. Confused, she gazed at him.
His pupils dilated. In that instant, crazy as it sounded, she knew his physical reaction mirrored hers.
Before she could protest, his mouth was on hers and his chest pressed her against the door. His kiss was angry. And erotic. Instead of fighting him, and without thinking, she slid her arms around his waist to the firm muscles of his back. She wanted him closer, as close as two people could get.
He moved his mouth to her neck, shoving her sweater from her shoulder to nibble on her bare skin. Then he hiked up her long skirt while his mouth traveled to nip sharply at her earlobe. He whispered, “Is this what you came here for, Alley Cat? To finish what you started in Charleston?”
* * *
THE WOMAN CALLING herself Charlotte struggled to push him away. Sam backed off at once. Reason had returned. What had gotten into him? His physical pull to her was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. But he’d never forced himself on a woman, and he wasn’t about to start now.
He walked to the window and leaned on the sill with both hands. The sun was a mere sliver from being completely set over the calm ocean.
His office door opened and closed. He didn’t need to turn around to know the woman was gone.
What was wrong with him? One minute he was angry, the next he was turned on. He’d never had that reaction to her back in South Carolina, although she’d tried her best to seduce him. That had been part of her plan. Keep him close so he wouldn’t figure out what she and her boyfriend were up to.
What kind of scam was she running now? Twin sister? He laughed. That wasn’t very inventive.
Why had she risked coming here? She had to know he’d be here. He’d been offered the promotion to manager at the Grand Peacock right before they’d agreed to steer clear of each other.
That had been what, four years ago? As assistant manager of the resort’s Charleston property, he’d been tasked to work with Allie. Back then, she worked for a small cosmetics firm out of Wilmington, Delaware. She made regular visits to the resort’s boutique that carried the cosmetics.
She’d come on to him soon after they met, insinuating she could be quite discreet. He hadn’t been attracted to her, and besides, he never got involved with business associates or resort guests. His goal to rise to the top within Blaise Enterprises came second only to his children.
Allie had taken his rebuttal in stride, leaving him perplexed and with a slightly bruised ego. Not until he discovered her real scheme did he ever think of her as anything but an attractive hustler trying to claw her way into power.
He went to his computer to see what he could find out about Allie, using her current alias. Was she using the same last name? She’d conveniently given him only a first name. He didn’t find anything under Charlotte Miller that fit the woman he had just met.
There was a knock on his office door.
“Come in.” Had she come back?
His assistant, Gayle, opened the door and stuck her head in. “Mr. Briton?” Her unexpected appearance outside his office was never a good sign.
“What is it?” Adrenaline made his skin tingle. Now what?
She entered his office and ran her fingers through her wavy shoulder-length, strawberry-blond hair. She blew air through her lips. “I can’t believe this happened. There’s a couple in bungalow 6 who are claiming his phone was stolen from their room.”
“He’s sure he didn’t misplace it?”
“That’s what I asked. They’ve called it. The phone goes directly to voice mail as if it’s turned off.”
“Did you ask if he had any location software on it?”
“He said it’s a new phone and he hadn’t gotten around to activating it yet.” Gayle crossed her arms over her abdomen. “He wants to speak to the manager.”
Sam nodded. “Is he in his room?”
“I told him you’d come to his room as soon as possible. Bungalow 6,” she repeated. “Their names are Bob and Evelyn Snyder. They’ve stayed here several times before.”
Sam recognized their names.
“I’ve got this. Thanks.” Gayle left his office and Sam called his head of security. “Hey, George, how’s it going?”
“Just fine, Mr. Briton. What can I do for you?” George was a retired New York City detective who considered this job practically a year-round vacation.
“We’ve had a burglary.” Sam proceeded to fill George in on the situation. “So I’d like you to beef up patrols, especially around the bungalows, and monitor the video footage.”
He thought about Allie’s arrival bringing a whole host of problems. Broken elevator, water leak, now a burglary. How much more could happen in less than forty-eight hours?
He would definitely need to keep a constant eye on that woman.
* * *
CHARLOTTE DIDN’T WAIT for the elevator, instead chose the open staircase to return to her room. She didn’t want to run into anyone else who knew her sister. And she couldn’t get away fast enough from that awful Sam Briton.
Charlotte was beyond mortified by her reaction to that Neanderthal. How dare he treat her with such disrespect. And how dare she react to his kiss as if she’d been starved for him. She’d clung to his body, matching his ardor with her own. She put her cool hands to her face, which burned with embarrassment.
Her knees were about to buckle by the time she reached her room. She settled herself on one of the two Hemingway-style chairs and propped her feet on the matching ottoman. The breeze coming from the balcony through the open sliding doors fluttered the sheers.
The phone rang unexpectedly and Charlotte jumped. She picked up the extension on the table next to her. “Hello?” Her voice quavered and she cleared her throat.
“Hi, Allie, this is Veronica. I’m sorry to bother you, but are you okay? That manager guy seemed pretty angry.”
Charlotte tried to play it off. “I’m fine. It was just a little misunderstanding. In fact—”
“Misunderstanding?” Veronica wasn’t going to let it go.
“He thought I was someone from his past.” Charlotte wasn’t about to give her more than that.
“Oh. Okay. I’m glad you straightened him out then.”
If only.
When Charlotte didn’t comment, Veronica said, “Are you ready for tomorrow?”
Oh no, now what? “Ready?” Tomorrow couldn’t possibly be worse than today.
“For the conference. I picked up your name tag and welcome folder when I registered. I figured you’d like to see a schedule. Looks like Raymond Foster will be here Monday.”
“Raymond Foster?”
“You have heard the news that he’s looking for a new agency, right? Everyone’s been talking about it. He’s been with the same one since the eighties.”
“I have,” Charlotte answered. She decided to try again to correct Veronica’s misconception. “I need to tell you something. Allie Miller is my twin sister. My name is Charlotte Harrington.”
Veronica was silent for a few seconds and then she burst out laughing. “Good one, Allie. Although I don’t think you’ll get anyone to believe that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re known for making up things, especially to win accounts. No one is going to fall for your ‘twin’ story.”
“But it’s true.”
“If you say so.” Veronica didn’t sound convinced.
Charlotte dropped the subject. “Thank you for registering me.” Allie should be here. This account sounded like the one she needed to keep her fledgling business going.
“Not a problem,” Veronica said. “I’ll meet you at breakfast and give it to you.”
Instead of saying no, Charlotte answered, “Sounds good.” She hung up, then closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. She needed to try again to call her sister. She retrieved her cell phone and located Allie’s cell number.
Once again, the call went to voice mail.
“Allie, it’s Charlotte. I really need to talk to you. There’s a man coming to the conference, Raymond Foster, and rumor has it he’s looking for a new agency. You should be here.”
She disconnected and looked at her phone. How could she help her sister? For the next hour, she called Allie every fifteen minutes with no luck.
She changed for bed, not caring that she’d missed dinner. While brushing her teeth, she looked in the bathroom mirror and suddenly knew how she might be able to help.
Everyone she’d met, including Sam Briton, thought she was Allie.
So that’s who she was going to be. Honestly, it might be fun to be someone other than sad Charlotte for a change.
* * *
SAM EXITED THE main building and headed to bungalow 6. He made a mental note to check with Maintenance to see if the elevator part was on its way. As was his habit, he surveyed his surroundings as he walked down the stone path through the canopy of palms. He watched for landscaping that needed trimming back from the walkway or anything else that might need attention.
The Snyders were repeat customers now that they were both retired, and he’d do whatever was necessary to keep them happy. He had a difficult time believing the man’s phone was stolen. More than likely, he’d just misplaced it. The resort had rarely experienced a theft problem since he’d been here. He had dealt with illegal activity at the other Grand Peacock resorts he’d worked at, but seldom at this one.
He knocked on the Snyders’ door. Footsteps became increasingly louder until Bob Snyder opened the door.
“Come in, Sam.” Bob shook Sam’s hand and gestured to where his wife was seated on the striped sofa near the floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors. “You remember my wife, Evelyn.”
“Of course. How are you?”
“I’m doing well.” Evelyn and Bob were the classic couple who, over their long marriage, had come to look like each other. Short, round and gray, with bifocals and a passion for matching outfits. Today they wore red-and-yellow floral shirts with white cotton pants.
“Good to hear.” Sam took a seat on the chair across from the sofa where Bob sat next to his wife. “I’m sorry to hear you’ve had some trouble. Your phone is missing?”
“That’s right.” Bob rested one foot on his opposite knee.
“When did you notice it was gone?”
Bob looked at Evelyn. “About an hour ago?”
Evelyn nodded.
“Where did you see it last?” Sam still hoped the phone had been misplaced.
“I remember setting it down on the dresser when we got back from our walk. That was around three.”
“Did anyone come to the door, or did you leave the bungalow after that?”
“Only when the front desk called.”
