“Hey,” Harper says as she pushes the door open and pops her head into my home office.

She doesn’t even knock. Normally, I’d get angry and impatient with the intruder. Some of the nurses at the hospital where I used to work learned about this the hard way.

But, to my own surprise, I feel no bile in my chest. My muscles haven’t tensed up.

For some reason I don’t understand myself, Harper seems to be the exception.

“I brought you something.” She shows me a piping-hot cup of coffee along with a wide grin on her beautiful face.

That face. I can’t get mad at that face.

“I noticed this morning that you take your coffee black,” Harper says.

As the saucer makes contact with the surface of my desk, the cup and the teaspoon clink against it.

“But let me know if you want some sugar or creamer.” She pauses as her big, green eyes watch me for a reaction. “Oh, but you’ll have to tell me where they are. It was so hard, making that coffee. I had to open all the cabinets.”

“Black is fine. It’s great.” I give her a smile. “Thank you.”

Despite the trouble brewing outside, I have to put on a brave face for her.

Even though it was her own fault she followed me here, I feel responsible for her. She wouldn’t be involved in this dangerous mess if it weren’t for me.

“Working late, huh?” Harper leans her cute ass against the arm of the chair across my desk. “What are you working on?

The soft flesh gives way to the solid wood, and before I can stop myself, my brain conjures up images of the way her ass cheeks shake when I spanked her earlier today.

What the fuck is this girl doing to me? I don’t normally sexualize such mundane things.

But, it’s quickly becoming clear to me that what I feel toward Harper isn’t exactly normal.

I wonder if there’s a truth to what people say about the connection between twin siblings. Maybe there’s a trace of my dead, supposed-twin brother in me that somehow makes me feel closer to Harper than I should.

“Is it a secret?” Harper shoots me the sweetest smile.

Fuck, those full lips . . . I’m not a religious man, but there’s no way they weren’t shaped by something divine. The thought makes me want to defile those lips, maybe jam my cock between them.

I clear my throat. “You can say that.”

“Doctor-patient confidentiality?”

“Something like that.” I lift the cup by the handle and bring it close to my mouth. It’s piping hot. I can see the steam rising up the black liquid.

Harper studies my face with her sharp gaze. “Is it fun, being a man of mystery?”

I cough, not expecting her question. I almost scald my tongue.

“Sorry,” Harper says, grinning without a trace of guilt on her face. She tucks her red hair behind her ear. “You don’t say much, do you?”

“It’s for your own safety.”

“I know you don’t really know me that well. But just for future reference, you saying something like that only makes me more curious.”

The corners of my lips pull up into a smile. I raise an eyebrow. “You like danger?”

Harper seems to ponder the question, her green eyes looking up at the ceiling as she presses her index finger against those juicy lips. “You know, I didn’t think I did before tonight. But, maybe I do.”

“You only think you do. You like it because you haven’t really suffered any consequences.” I take a small sip of the coffee. It’s pretty good. Strong.

“I’m being held hostage by a stranger and forced to live in that stranger’s house. I’m not even allowed to go out into the yard. That’s not a consequence?” she asks, resting her hands on her hips.

“Please. You’ve got everything you need right here and you can do anything you want. You even still have your phone.”

“There’s no signal and you know it,” she says. “Do you have internet on that computer? I haven’t been able to find any Wi-Fi network.”

“That’s because there’s no Wi-Fi.”

“See? I’m pretty sure that counts as torture these days,” she says, sliding down the arm of the chair and planting her ass on the cushioned seat.

I laugh. Glad I’ve learned to take my sips when she’s done talking. “Hey, it’s not like I kidnapped you. I’m sure there was Wi-Fi in that hotel where I left you. There was even free breakfast.”

“They don’t have what I want for breakfast. I eat danger for breakfast,” she says, bursting into laughter at her own cheesy joke.

It’s a bad joke, but I chuckle anyway. She’s adorable. I can see why a guy would risk death just to give her a birthday surprise. Maybe my supposed twin brother and I have the same taste.

“Your boyfriend, Mark.” I watch as Harper’s face grows somber and almost regret my words. But it’s too late to stop now. “Did he drink his coffee black, too?”

Harper shakes her head. “No. Two sugars.”

I nod as I take another sip of my black coffee.

She lets out a deep, sorrowful sigh as she shakes her head. “You know one of the worst things about losing someone you care about? You have all these little details stored in your head, bits of information that used to matter a great deal because they were things you could use to make them smile, cheer them up on a good day . . .”

Harper stares at the baseboard but her gaze is empty.

The way she lets her sentence hang in the air, it seems like she’s done talking. But then, she sniffles and adds, “Then, suddenly, these things . . . They’re irrelevant. Less important than the lyrics to that teenybopper song you used to sing when you were eleven.”

I watch, not saying a word, as Harper brings her emotions under control. She takes a few deep breaths, blinks her doe eyes, and turns to me with a smile. “But, to answer your questions . . . No, he didn’t take his coffee black. Not everything about you is identical to him.”

The way she talks . . . I’ve never been this jealous of a dead man before. Mark may be dead, but Harper continues to love him.

“So, now that I’ve told you something personal—” Harper gives me a brave smile “—are you ready to tell me about whatever you’re working on? Does it have anything to do with the woman from yesterday?”

I take a deep breath. “The less you know, the better. Trust me, you don’t want to get any deeper in this shit.”

“What did you do to her?” Harper asks. “Did you break her heart? You know what they say about fury and a woman scorned.”

“Why are you so interested? Are you jealous?” I ask her back. “Are you . . .” I bite my tongue.

What Harper said about Mark was excruciatingly sweet. I barely know this girl, and I knew from the start I was only a replacement for her dead boyfriend. But I can’t help the jealousy stabbing my chest or the anger rising up my spine.

Still, I can’t seriously ask her if it bothers her to think about someone who looks identical to her dead boyfriend fucking another woman.

“Am I what?” Harper asks, leaning forward in her chair.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care why you asked.”

“It looked like you cared a great deal,” she challenges.

I get up, and Harper immediately shrinks. She keeps her gaze down while she glances at me from underneath her lashes. Her breathing grows heavy.

Is she scared of me? Or, is she aroused?