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shocked when he’d opened the door. When he’d told her who he was, she’d looked at him as if he were crazy or dangerous. But she was the nutcase, calling him a liar. What the hell was that about?
    He didn’t know what to make of her.
    Was she a victim? Duped by someone else? She certainly didn’t look like a sophisticated thief, with her wild brown hair, tight-ass jeans, and clingy bright orange T-shirt with the word JUICY spelled across a very nice pair of breasts. He frowned at that distracting thought and told himself to stay focused on the facts at hand. He’d just 30
    Barbara Freethy
    been robbed. And that woman had admitted to being in his house with another man.
    He went over their conversation in his head, her contention that he was, in fact, the liar and that the other guy was the real Nick Granville. He’d never had anyone challenge his identity before. It was strange having to defend his name, to prove he was who he said he was.
    Returning to his house, he jotted down the numbers from her license plate on a pad by the phone. He had a very good memory. With any luck this Kayla would be able to lead him to the man who had broken into his house.
    Glancing down at his watch, Nick wondered where the police were. He’d called them over an hour ago. He hated to wait for anyone or anything. Patience had never been part of his makeup. He didn’t like being out of control, letting someone else call the shots. He remembered all the times he’d waited for his father to show up for a visit.
    Nine times out of ten his father hadn’t come at all. Nick could still feel the frustration and anger of those days.
    But that was behind him now. He was living the life he’d always wanted. He loved his career, especially the travel, and he was damned sure not going to let anyone steal that life right out from under him without a fight.
    He was beginning to realize that his distraction with his work had made him vulnerable. He should have taken more precautions. He’d heard about identity theft. He knew credit cards and bank accounts, especially online accounts, could be hacked. But he hadn’t given his attention to his personal business, and now he was going to pay a big price. He still didn’t know how much the thief or thieves had stolen from him. There were thousands of dollars charged on his credit cards, and his bank balances TA K E N
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    were far lower than they should have been. He had no idea if he could get all or any of it back, but he would give it his best effort. He’d worked too hard to earn his money to let it vanish just like that.
    Pacing back and forth across his living room, he went over his conversation with Kayla word for word. Had she left him any clues? Had she said anything that would help him figure out who had been in his home?
    She’d given him her full name. What was it? Kayla Sheridan. Yes, that was it. Nick grabbed the phone book off the shelf in his kitchen and thumbed through the pages. There it was. His heart skipped a beat as he saw her name, address, and phone number. That was surprisingly easy.
    For the first time since this nightmare had begun, he felt a surge of excitement.
    Kayla was still shaking when her doorbell rang an hour later. Looking out the window, she saw the silver Porsche in front of her house and her stomach turned over. Was it Nick — her Nick? Or was it the other guy?
    She moved slowly to the front door and looked through the peephole. Her heart sank. How had he found her?
    Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to the same tall, dark-haired man with the furious green eyes who’d been at Nick’s house. He’d traded the slacks and button-down shirt he’d been wearing earlier for a pair of worn blue jeans that clung to his long, lean legs, and a charcoal-gray sweater that was pushed up to his elbows. His brown hair was damp from a recent shower, his cheeks clean-shaven. His skin showed off a dark tan, as if he’d spent a great deal of time in the sun. There