He sucked in a breath, it was like breathing in treacle.

The scene before him unfolded as if he were watching a horror movie in slow motion. The man with Megan dipped his head so low James wasn’t sure if he was kissing her. He must have been because he slid his fingers through her hair, bunching it at her nape, the way lovers do. He then spoke against her temple.

The hairs on the back of James’ neck bristled. What the hell was he saying? If it was how much he adored her, what he wanted to do with her, then damn him, they were James’ words to say to Megan, not this…imposter’s.

But maybe he wasn’t.

Perhaps James was the imposter and this was the man in Megan’s life. Could he have got it all wrong? Had Megan ran, twice, because she was two-timing a steady blond boyfriend that she was keeping a secret from him? It was possible, she was beyond gorgeous, stood to reason she’d have more than one suitor on her radar. But why would she lie?

He continued to watch Megan through the window. He knew he shouldn’t, he should turn and leave and not torture himself with watching her and this man for another moment.

Had she forgotten about their evening arrangement? Had he said a later time? Confusion buzzed through him like a swarm of bees. His mind felt fudged and his temper simmered towards boiling point.

But he had no claim on her. They’d only been on one official date, enjoyed a night of fun, yes, but still, he had no right to storm into her apartment and demand to know who the hell this man was.

Much as he wanted to.

It was like he’d said to her before. He wasn’t in the habit of being with women who didn’t want to be with him.

He heard footsteps in the distance, someone running. The flashing jogger on his way home probably. James glanced left and right, checking it wasn’t some crazed person. He spotted a man heading his way, scarf flying behind him and a little brown dog galloping at his feet.

He turned his attention back to the window. Megan was still facing into the room. The guy gripped his T-shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing gym-buffed muscles, likely steroid enhanced. He tossed the material aside.

“Oh, God,” James muttered. Was he really going to witness this? Surely they’d shut the damn curtains.

The couple connected—him pulling Megan close with his thick arms and kissing her passionately.

James turned. Pain shot through his chest and his head thumped with an impending migraine.

“Excuse me, excuse me, emergency, emergency, I…”

James stepped aside as the tall, thin guy who’d been running with the dog at his feet dashed up the path.