He wasn’t even sure why he’d asked the question. True, she looked very much like the woman in his recurring dream, but the longer he stared at her—couldn’t help that part, unfortunately—the more the differences added up.On closer inspection, Amara’s hair really was more brown than red. Her features were also significantly finer than...whomever. Her gray eyes verged on charcoal, her slim curves were much better toned and her legs were the longest he’d seen on any woman anywhere.He might have lingered on the last thing if she hadn’t slapped a hand to his chest, narrowed those beautiful charcoal eyes to slits and seared him with a glare.“What do you mean my face has been in your head for fifteen years? What the hell kind of question is that?”A faint smile touched his lips. “Given my potentially concussed state, call it curiosity and forget I asked.”The suspicion returned. “Are you sure my grandmother’s in the Caribbean and not locked in a closet upstairs?”“This might not be the best time to be giving me ideas.”
