Dylan Trueno had finally found her. And he wasnât letting her go.
Not this time.
Determined to make his point, he stared straight into her eyes, making her catch a stunned breath.
Instant recognition, he thought. The reoccurrence of a time-bomb attraction.
They stood face to face in the doorway of a cozy old house on the Rocking Horse Refuge. Dylan had been searching for her for eight months, and today heâd hit pay dirt.
He moved a little closer, and she took a step back. Just seconds ago, sheâd answered the door to find him standing there, flinching at the sight of him.
She didnât say anything and neither did he. He kept staring at her, piercing her with his gaze. She wore a floral-printed blouse and slim-fitting jeans with a frayed hemline. Her face was devoid of makeup and her jewelry consisted of a simple gold cross.
He thought she looked much too lean, as if sheâd lost weight since the last time heâd seen her, as if sheâd been to hell and back.
But he knew she had.
Trapped, she glanced away and fidgeted with the ends of her hair. It was blonde now, but she was still the same girl whoâd purposely disappeared.
âJulia,â he finally said.
âMy name is Janie Johnson,â she replied, using her alias, pretending to be someone else. âBut my boss calls me JJ.â
Dylan assumed she worked for the old man who owned the refuge. âI spoke with Henry on the phone, and heâs expecting me.â
âHe told me we were having company. A famous horse trainer. But I didnât even thinkââ
âThat it would be me?â He wanted to reach out, to hold her, to lift her into his arms like heâd done before. But he kept his hands to himself. âThis isnât a coincidence. I came here looking for you.â
âYouâre mistaken. Iâm not Julia.â
âYes, you are. We both know you are.â
Silence stretched between them, and Dylan cursed beneath his breath. Finding her had become his relentless pursuit. And now that heâd located her, she denied being Julia.
Her stubbornness struck a frustrated chord. She wasnât supposed to mess with his emotions. She wasnât supposed to twist him out of shape, to contort every gut-clenching part of his life.
But she did.
Because he wanted her. He didnât care if they were practically strangers. That wasnât an issue for him. Theyâd shared a moment in time that went beyond logic.
The day theyâd met, he thought. The day sheâd cried in his arms. The day sheâd almost kissed him.
âWhy is Henry expecting you?â she asked suddenly.
âTo discuss the fundraiser youâre having.â
âYou lied to him? You offered to get involved?â
âI needed an excuse to look for you, to see if you were here. Would you have preferred that I told him the truth? Besides, youâre lying to him, too.â He challenged her, baiting her to admit who she was.
She did, in a disturbing way. âHenry knows me as JJ, and thatâs who I want to be.â
âItâs too late for that.â
âNot if you go away.â She fussed with her hair again, making the ends flutter, like wheat in the wind. âNot if you leave.â
âI canât do that.â He intended to take her home.
But first he had to tell her about her mother, to be the bearer of pain-packed news, something he would always despise himself for. âCome outside with me. I have to talk to you.â
Just then, a graveled voice sounded in the background. âJJ, is that our guest?â
She paused, got a panicked look in her eyes. Like a doe caught in the sites of a rifle, she went anxiety-ridden still, imploring Dylan to protect her identity.
For now, he agreed. âWeâll talk later.â The last thing he wanted was for her to get the urge to bolt, to run away.
She nodded, and within seconds, Henry appeared. He was a kind, crusty cowboy, with a bent body and a craggy-lined face.
He greeted Dylan, shaking his hand a bit too vigorously. The old man seemed excited to meet him. Of course Dylan had acquired a level of fame. He traveled extensively in his line of work, and western riders from all over the country paid top dollar to attend his clinics and demonstrations.
Henry invited him inside, escorting him to a small, homespun parlor. Dylan took the chair closest to Julia and focused his attention on her, determined to stay by her side.
To not lose her again.
JJâs mind whirred like a tornado. Could she do this? Could she sit across from Dylan and pretend that he didnât affect her?
He looked exactly the way she remembered him. He was dressed in a denim jacket, Wrangler jeans and a silver-and-turquoise belt buckle that glimmered at his waist. He wore his rain-straight onyx-colored hair to his shoulders, and a western hat rested on his head.