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racy little motorcycle you looked so good on.
    The one you keep in storage here in Hagerstown.”
    She rode a motorcycle? Since when did she ride a motorcycle?
    She shook her head almost instinctively, rejecting the idea that she would, that she could
    ride, even as she remembered the wind in her hair and the power pulsing between her thighs.
    “I’ll be there at eleven.” His fingers caressed her hips. “Will you be there, Lilly?”
    “I’ll be there.” The decision was made so quickly, so instinctively, that she almost called
    the words back.
    “Good girl.” Were those his lips brushing against the shell of her ear?
    Lilly shivered at the exquisite sensation of warmth, almost a kiss, as she took in a hard,
    shocked breath.
    “I’ve missed you, Lilly.” Was that a note of regret in his voice?
    Lilly fought the overwhelming urge to turn and confront him, to demand the answers she
    was certain he had. There was no doubt he had known her during those lost years. There was
    no doubt he may have possibly known her intimately.
    “Who am I?” The words slipped past her lips, the emotion in her voice undisguised, the
    fear that she fought to keep hidden revealing itself in the husky, plaintive tone of her voice.
    Behind her, the warm male body bracketing hers was still for a long moment before she felt
    the silent sigh ripple across his chest.
    “We’ll discuss that tonight.” There was a promise in his voice and, a part of her feared, a
    warning.
    A warning about what? The truth perhaps?
    The truth could be a double-edged sword, her uncle had warned her several times when she
    questioned if he had had the past six years of her life investigated once he learned she was
    alive. Surely he had, yet he refused to give her a straight answer.
    The evasiveness had been driving her insane. Perhaps, this time, someone would give her a
    straight answer.
    “And if I don’t show up?”
    His hands eased away from her slowly as the sound of her mother’s voice discussing the
    merits of a particular porcelain plate filtered through the dim room.
    “Then I guess you don’t show up,” he murmured. “Perhaps, Lilly, there’re things about
    yourself that you don’t really want to know.”
    As she tried to understand that comment he slipped away from her, the warmth of his body
    no more than a dream as she turned quickly to try and catch a glimpse of the man who had
    held her so intimately.
    Was he the one following her? Was he the one that filled her fantasies as well as her
    nightmares?
    However, all she saw was his back as he slipped out the door and moved quickly past the
    long, narrow window of the shop.
    Lilly began to race after him. Waiting until tonight for answers suddenly seemed less than
    feasible. She wanted those answers now.
    “Lilly, Mrs. Longstrom has the most gorgeous lace tablecloth in the back room.” Her
    mother’s voice stopped her as she took the first step. “You simply have to come back here and
    see it. I believe it would be perfect for the breakfast room at the manor.”
    Lilly turned quickly back to her mother, a question forming on her lips, a demand to know
    if her mother had seen the man speaking to her. If she knew him.
    In the moment that the words would have slipped past her lips, she snapped her teeth
    quickly together. Her mother hadn’t seen him, or she would have already posed the same
    questions to Lilly.
    Angelica suddenly paused, her gaze sharpening as though she sensed or saw something in
    Lilly’s face that concerned her or perhaps angered her.
    “I believe it’s time we go.” Angelica moved quickly across the room despite the height of
    the heels she wore with her alabaster slacks and matching sleeveless blouse.
    Lilly protested as her mother’s fingers curled gently around her arm and urged her toward
    the door. “Really, Mother, we don’t need to leave.”
    She had to get her bearings, had to make sense of what was suddenly happening. What she
    was feeling.
    She should