Breathing harshly, Angelo lifted his mouth and shifted his weight. Supporting himself on one elbow, he rapidly readied himself with the other hand, hoping he wouldn’t erupt before he’d even entered her. The sheath of rubber rolled onto him. She shifted underneath him, tempting, impatient.

As he penetrated her, stretching her, she lay motionless. Finally sheathed deep within her, he lay against her-head bowed, eyes clenched shut-inhaling the sweet fragrance of her skin.

She moved and her inner muscles tightened on him, demanding a response. Pleasure streaked through him and his relentless control frayed. He began the slow sweeps that would take them towards a place he’d never known.

As the pace quickened so did the intensity. His hands cupped her hips, pulling her closer as he drove harder and harder into her. She echoed his ferocity.

When he thought he could take no more, when the pleasure was so great he felt that he would explode if it didn’t end, he felt her contract against him, once, twice, and it was enough to tip him over the edge, into the fire that threatened to consume him. And then he pulled her into the curve of his arm, his body warm and relaxed against hers. “Look at me.”

Gemma avoided his gaze, simply dropping her head against his chest, nuzzling his skin, breathing in his hot male scent.

She was here now. In his bed. In his life. Did it matter who he thought she was?

She stroked his stomach, let a finger trace the indent between the muscle definition. A wicked temptation called to her. Kiss him. He need never know she wasn’t Mandy.

After all, if she never told him would he ever learn the truth? Probably not. He’d had many mistresses and none lasted. Their relationship would run its course, too. This sweet madness between them would not last.

But what if it did? What then? Could she keep this secret forever?

No. She didn’t want to live with a past that Mandy had already stained with betrayal. She had to tell him. Now. While they were immersed in this special, loving glow. Acid ate the back of her throat. She swallowed. He would understand why she’d done what she had. He had to.

She pulled away a little, to give herself some breathing space, to gather her courage-and so that she could look into his face, the face she’d come to love so much.

“Hey, come back here, I want to hold you.”

Gemma propped a cushion behind her back. “Angelo-” It came out a croak. She tried again. “I need to tell you something.” She stroked his cheek with trembling fingers.

“Yes? What’s wrong?”

She bit her lip. How…where…to start? She drew a deep breath. “I told you my sister died…”

He nodded.

“She was my twin.”

“I’m so sorry. I’ve heard that twins are very close. It must have been hard. You said her name was Mandy?”

It was Gemma’s turn to nod. “She died on Christmas Eve nearly three years ago.”

“Three years ago?” Then he snapped his mouth shut.

Gemma could see his resolve not to interrupt, to support her, let her explain. Her love for him swelled.

For the first time she started to hope that he might be able to accept what she was about to tell him.

“Mandy was…well, Mandy. She made me laugh, she loved practical jokes when we were kids. She knew no fear and would try anything.” Except Mandy had been terrified of being unpopular. She’d always wanted to be the ahead of the peer group, the first to swear, the first to smoke.

Gemma moved away from him and crossed her legs. “When we were kids we both loved to create shows. I’d sing and she’d dance.” She recognized that she was rambling, trying to delay that moment of terrible truth.

“A talented duo. What did Mandy grow up into?”

Gemma hauled in a deep breath, met his gaze squarely. “She became a dancer, an exotic dancer.”

Angelo stilled. “So both of you worked as exotic dancers? Did you ever work together? Identical twins…that would’ve been a card to play.” He paused. “Or were you very different from each other?”

“We were nothing alike-even though we looked very similar.”

“How similar?”

“Practically identical.” The confession was dragged from Gemma. “At school our teachers struggled to tell us apart.” Mandy had traded classes with Gemma to avoid those she hated. “And I’m not an exotic dancer, I’ve only ever sung.”

There. She held her breath.

“What do you mean you-” He broke off. A horrible, tense silence followed. He shook his head, his eyes dazed like a fighter reeling from a blow. “What are you saying?”

“You knew Mandy, Angelo,” Gemma confirmed. “Three years ago-”

“I knew Gemma.” His voice was hard, definite. “Who the hell are you?”

“I am Gemma.”

“Gemma worked for me, I have a copy of her work permit, her passport, to prove it.”

Gemma uncrossed her legs and slung them over the edge of the bed, her back to Angelo. “Mandy didn’t have a work permit. She was convicted for shoplifting with a group of friends a teenager. So her application for a work permit was declined.”

“Look at me.” She heard him move, then he was standing, looming over her. “I want to see your face. We would not give anyone a job without their paperwork being in order.”

Gemma took a deep breath. “She had a work permit. She applied for it in my name, without my knowledge. She took my passport and my credit card when she left.” And Gemma had never told a soul. When her father surmised that Mandy had been lucky to get a work permit, Gemma had remained silent. She’d been stranded in New Zealand, her career options curtailed-with no chance of working in Australian or Pacific island resorts, furious with her twin, waiting for Mandy to return. She bowed her head, covering her face.

“Didn’t you tell the authorities?”

“You have to understand, all our lives we covered for each other. It was a hard habit to break. But I never thought that Mandy would come to any harm, not on a Greek island.” Although she had experienced some qualms when Mandy had e-mailed to tell her about the fabulous man she’d hooked up with. Handsome. A billionaire. She’d been even more worried when Mandy had sent her press cuttings and photos of Angelo, whom Gemma had dismissed as a dashing sophisticated playboy. She’d begged Mandy to come home. But Mandy had been in heaven living out her fantasy lifestyle.

Gemma let her hands drop and glanced up at him. “I was more worried that you’d break her heart. You had a reputation as a playboy who went through beautiful woman like a hot knife through butter.”

“A lot of that is PR. For show, to attract the jet set.” His face darkened. “I’m very generous to my girlfriends. All the women I’ve been involved with know the score.”

Except for her. She’d fallen in love with him. And, at the start, she’d believed Mandy had been in love with him, too. It had never crossed her mind that there’d been someone else in her sister’s life.

“So why did you come here?” He flung his arms out wide. “Why the whole elaborate charade of pretending to be your sister?”

“I wanted to get close to you.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “You certainly managed that. Did you plan to sleep with me?” There was a cynicism in the lines around his mouth and his bright eyes were dull.

She blinked.

“You did plan this!” He looked at her like she was something nasty.

Gemma swallowed. “In the beginning, I had some stupid half-baked idea that I might seduce you. But I abandoned it.” She had to make him believe her. “I thought that you were responsible for Mandy’s death.”

“What about the amnesia? You told me about a hit-and-run in London. Was that true? Or another lie?”

Gemma looked away and shook her head. “There was no accident. I don’t know where Mandy went after leaving here, but by the time she returned to New Zealand she was a pitiful, broken creature. She suffered from moodswings and had muttered wildly about the glamorous man she’d loved…and lost to another woman. I thought that was you.”

“Nice to know that you hold me in such high regard,” he bit out sardonically. He stalked away, pressed a switch and the wall of curtains started to open. He looked out into the darkness. “When your sister stayed with me, I caught her once using cocaine at a party and I made it clear that I wouldn’t tolerate it,” he said in a flat monotone. “That if it ever happened again, our relationship was over. She said it was a mistake…that she’d never done it before and wouldn’t do it again. I believed her.

“I suspected she had a drinking…problem. I’d tried to convince her that she needed help after she’d had a little too much to drink at a party, stripped her clothes off and started to can-can. She argued that she was fine, it was just a bit of fun…that I was too staid. I broke it off that night, but she was so apologetic, said she wanted another chance. I gave it to her.” He turned around, his eyes angry. Unforgiving. “And you thought I was responsible for her addictions? Did she tell you that? Mention my name?”

“No.” Gemma felt awful. “I assumed. But I knew she’d had a relationship with you-she was so proud of it.”

“So you never read about our affair in the scandal-sheets?” he said sardonically.

Gemma shook her head. “Mandy was in a bad way. We didn’t have much time with her once she returned home. She took an overdose and then she was dead.”

“Was it deliberate?” His voice softened.

For a wild moment Gemma thought he was about to reach for her, but then his eyes iced over.

Her throat thickened. “I thought so. I thought that you’d driven her away after getting her hooked on drugs, that she coped by turning to the drugs for solace. I thought she didn’t want to live without you.”

He paced along the length of the window, a dark shape against the night. “No wonder you hated me. No wonder you wanted revenge. But do you have any conception of the kind of danger that you put yourself in? What if I’d been the kind of man you thought?”

“I had to do it. She was my twin sister. My other half.” And then she realized that was wrong. He was her other half. The bond, the empathy, that had been growing between them was stronger than anything she’d ever shared with her sister. She rose to her feet, took a step towards him. “Angelo-”

“Even though she lied to you, stole from you, defrauded you?” He was angry, she saw. “Mandy used the credit card that you told me you’d mysteriously maxed out and couldn’t remember how, didn’t she?”

“Yes. But from what you told me, the dates correlate with after she left Kalos, while she must’ve been with Jean-Paul. And he supplied drugs to her…he admitted that much to me.”

Angelo’s gaze narrowed. “I’m not having a dealer on my island. I will take care of him. It makes sense. If Mandy no longer had the allowance I gave her at her disposal, then she must have pawned the jewellery I bought her for a fraction of its value.” He glared at her. “Why didn’t you stop the card when you discovered it missing?”

She shrugged. “I couldn’t leave her stranded overseas with no money if she needed it. I simply never expected her to run up that kind of debt. She knew I’d have to repay it. It must have been for drugs.”

“Well, I won’t leave you stranded.” There was a note of finality in his voice. “I will book you a ticket to take you back to New Zealand safely.”

It was over. He was dumping her. Gemma lifted her chin. “That is not necessary. I can make my own way home.”

“I can’t believe what you did.” Anger and a mist of complex emotions clouded his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He turned away, stared out into the night. “I told myself you had changed. I thought I had found a woman who was special…one of a kind. But you are even more treacherous than your sister. Your betrayal was calculated to-”

“No, I didn’t mean-”

“Be silent.” He cut her off. Moving to the door, he added, “I will find somewhere to spend the night. By morning I want you gone. And don’t return. Because I never want to see you again.”

In the slanting morning light Gemma packed her bags, her heart aching, but she had a frightening suspicion that her heartbreak served her right. She’d called reception and been told that a ferry would be leaving in twenty minutes. If she hurried she could catch the boat to the mainland.

Angelo had not come back to the room since their awful confrontation. She’d waited, huddled on his bed, for him to return.

But he hadn’t.

The message was clear. She had to accept that it was over. He did not want to see her. That to him her betrayal was worse than Mandy’s had been.

Downstairs, the reception lobby was bustling. Gemma waited in an alcove for the shuttle to the ferry to arrive. The mural of a golden-haired sun god driving his fiery horses across the sky brought a bittersweet lump to her throat. She’d ventured too close to the heat and been badly burned.