Risky Moves

3

“ADAM?”

“Julia?” Adam stared in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m—it’s—” Julia clutched the lapel of a loose, shimmery robe beneath her chin—she sure hadn’t been wearing that last time he’d seen her—and glanced over her shoulder at the candlelit motel room. He tried not to gape at the way her breasts moved beneath the silk. “I wasn’t expecting y-you. I was expecting….” Her voice died as she backed away, flushing pink with embarrassment.

Zack. Of course, Adam thought. She didn’t want him. She wanted Zack.

The sound of an approaching car made Julia rush forward. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the room, then slammed the door. “Isn’t Zack coming?”

“I don’t know. I got this note—” Adam reached into his shirt pocket, making sure to withdraw the note and not the photograph he’d filched from the party.

Julia snatched it from his hand, her eyes wild. Wilder than he’d ever seen them. “Who gave this to you?”

“One of the guys. The party was breaking up and someone said Fred left this for me. Didn’t make sense, but…” Adam shrugged. In her distress, Julia had forgotten about the robe. And the short gown she wore under it. Her legs were bare, and the rest of her, too, he’d bet, beneath the not-quite-sheer silk.

Abruptly, Adam sat on the bed. Oh, man. He was hard. She’d see. And be horrified, because she was his brother’s girlfriend and he wasn’t supposed to think about her that way.

Julia was staring at the crumpled note, her long blond hair falling against her cheeks.

Adam cleared his throat. “You got the wrong brother, huh?”

AT FIRST, Adam refused to look at her. “Did you know I went to Japan?”

She gave a wordless gesture, apparently thrown by the non sequitur.

“Three years ago.” His heart was racing at a ridiculous pace.

“I heard about it secondhand,” she said, brittle-voiced.

“It was a memorable trip. I went to do some ice climbing in Hokkaido, but I ended up staying for six months. Their philosophy of living in harmony with nature is inspiring. I hadn’t thought the Japanese way of bringing order to the outdoors would appeal to me, but it did. Have you ever seen a Japanese garden? Absolute perfection. There are people whose job it is to pick shreds of debris from the great moss gardens—painstaking hours spent on their hands and knees…”

She wrinkled her nose. “And you’ve decided it’s your calling to be one of them?”

“God, no. They’d have to take me away in a straitjacket by the end of the first working day.”

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