Tell Me Your Secrets.... Cara Summers

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      SLOAN CAMPBELL WASN’T an easy man to fool, either. He loosened the tension on the rope to give Saturn more freedom to make his way down the slope. He was a man who prided himself on his ability to size up people as well as horseflesh. But “Red”—he’d decided to call her that until he figured out who she was—Red had had him going there for a few moments.

      He had to admit that she was a dead ringer for Cameron, but his gut instinct told him that whoever she was, she wasn’t Cameron McKenzie. He let his gaze drift to the distinctive red hair, and wondered if hers had come out of a bottle. She had the same slender build, the same surprisingly long legs, considering the fact that she was barely five foot four. In body type and coloring, she could have been Cameron’s twin.

      Except Cameron didn’t have a twin.

      Still, whatever annoyance he felt for being taken in by “Red,” however temporarily, was more than matched by the admiration he felt for her guts and her creativity. He’d come damned close to buying her memory loss story. He might have if it weren’t for her eyes.

      He’d seen something when he’d first grabbed her that he’d never seen in Cameron’s eyes. Desire. It wasn’t something a man could miss, and it had triggered a response in him. The kiss had been a test, and he wasn’t pleased by the fact that he’d wanted for a moment to take it beyond a test. What he’d felt when his mouth had pressed against hers had been raw and stunning. And for one brief moment, with her taste pouring into him, he’d wanted to go further. The only reason he hadn’t was because he hadn’t been sure he could stop himself from taking her right there on the bluff.

      No woman had ever pushed him that far that quickly before. Certainly not Cameron. The kiss had been the clincher. The slender woman sitting in front of him was not Cameron McKenzie. But that left the questions—who the hell was she? And where was Cameron?

      When Saturn finally reached level ground, Sloan urged him into a trot. His annoyance with himself deepened at the fact that he’d never once questioned that Cameron had run away in a snit five weeks ago. James hadn’t questioned it, either. No one had. She hadn’t taken her car, but she often used a limo service, claiming that being driven allowed her to get work done.

      The night before she’d left, he and Cameron had had words, and she’d threatened to back out of the wedding, and he’d told her to go ahead. Not that he thought she would. Though six years separated them, they’d grown up together, and he knew her very well. She was high-strung, used to getting her own way, and he’d figured she’d stayed away five weeks to figure out a way to come back, go through with the wedding and still save face.

      She wasn’t going to back out of the wedding. She’d given her word to her father. And while she might be spoiled, Cameron McKenzie never went back on her word. He’d convinced himself that she’d stayed away out of pride.

      He’d told “Red” nothing less than the truth. Cameron liked to play games, and she didn’t like to lose. Had she found a double and set up this little charade by herself? For what purpose? But if she hadn’t set it up, he didn’t like the alternative explanations.

      His gaze shifted again to the woman sitting in front of him, and his glance fell on the delicate curve of her neck right where it joined her shoulder. Arousal bloomed inside of him again, as raw and primitive as it had been when he’d kissed her.

      The attraction he felt for her was going to be a problem. And he’d have to handle it.

      Because the alternative was that Red was up to her neck in Cameron’s disappearance. A missing heiress and a ringer who was trying to take her place just a month before the wedding? He didn’t like that scenario one bit.

      And Red might not be in this alone. There were groups of developers who would do a lot to get their hands on that strip of land along the Pacific. Sloan frowned. He liked that scenario even less.

      He just had to figure out which way to play it. To play her. He wouldn’t let James or anyone else know his suspicions. No need to worry the old man before he had some evidence or at least a clearer idea of what had happened to Cameron. Besides, he might learn something from letting Red play out her little charade. Give her enough rope and she just might hang herself.

      One thing was certain. Until he knew exactly what her game was, he was going to keep her on a very short leash.