Zach’s throat was suddenly dry and hot and forbidden memories struggled to the surface of his mind. “Right.”

“Danvers,” she supplied, her voice low, her lips tightening just a fraction. She smiled slightly, and with her hand extended, walked slowly toward him. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time,” she said, forcing a smile. “My name is-”

“London,” he supplied as every muscle in his body grew taut with the pain of the past.

“You recognize me?” Hope lighted those blue eyes.

“There’s a resemblance. I guessed.”

“Oh.” She hesitated, the wind suddenly out of her sails.

“But that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“You think you’re my long-lost sister.” He couldn’t hide the cynicism in his words.

Those clear blue orbs clouded and her hand, the one she’d offered and he’d ignored, dropped to her side. “I think so, but I’m not sure. That’s why I’m here.” She seemed to find her confidence again. “For a long time my name’s been Adria.”

“You’re not sure?” For a minute he could only stare into those wide blue eyes-eyes like another treacherous pair that had seemed to see right through him, but quickly his senses came back to him in a rush. Why did he think for even a second that this woman could be London? Hadn’t he been close enough to elaborate frauds to smell one a mile away? So she looked like his stepmother. Big deal. “My sister’s been dead for almost twenty years,” he said in the flat tone he reserved for liars and cheats.

“Half-sister.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She glanced around the room. “I just wanted to see if I remembered this place-”

“London was only four.”

“Almost five. And even four-year-olds have memories…maybe just impressions, but memories nonetheless…” She looked at one corner near a bank of windows. “The band was over there in that alcove, and there were plants…trees, I think.” Her eyebrows bunched together as if she were trying to catch hold of a fleeting memory. “And there was a huge fountain and an ice sculpture-a…horse, no, not just a horse, a running horse, and-”