Would she ever be able to move past Jack? Looking at the tense set of his shoulders,
his clenching fists, remembering the feel of that inky hair in her hands and that broad
Cajun smile… Probably not.
Morgan sighed. “I’m sorry.”
She watched those broad shoulders lift in a shrug. “I wouldn’t want you to lie to me.”
He turned and paced toward her again. “Don’t ever lie.”
But his eyes raged, as if the pain was nearly beyond his bearing. Morgan ached for
him.
“I understand why you can’t—”
“Shh,” he whispered against her mouth. “You’re exhausted, and I just want to feel
you, know you’re okay.”
Jack eased her down to the bed and removed the plush robe the inn had provided to
reveal her clean, bare skin. He removed all his clothes and slid onto the mattress behind
her. He lifted her breasts into his hands, thumbing her nipples. He settled his hard cock
against the curves of her ass. But he made no demands. After tonight, she doubted he
would.
“Sleep,” his whisper demanded.
Was he out of his mind? She pushed back tears, trying to relax, trying not to make
him feel worse for what he wasn’t able to give her.
“I’ll take care of you.” Jack kissed her shoulder and nuzzled his face into the curve of
her neck.
He felt good against her. With him, she felt warm, protected, aroused. Even accepted.
It was all Morgan could do not to turn and tell the man she loved him, that she could do
without that one fantasy. But with a lie between them, they had no tomorrows.
“Jack—”
“We’ll deal with it tomorrow. That’s a promise.” #
Jack flipped his phone shut just as Morgan emerged from the old-fashioned
bathroom wearing a towel and an awkward smile. His gut clenched at the sight of her.
She looked so tempting with an emerald green towel shielding her fair skin and
curves from his eyes. Knowing those blush pink nipples were bare under the scrap of
terrycloth didn’t exactly calm his libido. With a dash of black mascara, her blue eyes
looked vivid and huge in her uncertain face. A swipe of some amber-colored gloss over
her lips emphasized the pillowy softness of her lips. That flame hair fell in a silken
curtain halfway down her back, framing alabaster skin with little cinnamon freckles. She
glowed.
And Jack wanted her so damn bad, he could barely take a single breath without
thinking about having her bound and open for him, taking him in every way his twisted
mind could conjure.
Had he made the right choice?
Too late now. What would happen, would happen.
“Feel better after your shower?”
She nodded, then looked around the room, bed with sumptuous jewel-toned
comforter rumpled from nothing but sleep, hardwood floors gleaming, little area
uncluttered. “They came to take the breakfast dishes away?”
“While you were in the shower.”
“Good.” She chewed on her lower lip.
“I just talked to Deke. He’s friends with local police.” He reached for her hand,
hoping it would help steady her. “Your pal, Reggie, was arrested at about three this
morning for trying to accost Alyssa in her club. Deke’s been to see her. From what he
said, according to Alyssa, Reggie demanded to know where you were and was getting
pretty physical about it.”
Morgan gasped. If it was possible, more color slid out of her face, leaving behind
those blue, blue eyes wide with fear, disappointment, anger, relief.
“So I’m not in danger anymore.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. He won’t be in jail long, a day or two. And we don’t know for
sure that he’s your stalker.”
“He had to be. No one else knew that much about where I lived, where I’d be.
Photography is his passion. If he could make a living at it, I think he’d quit Turn Me On
tomorrow. He has a volatile temper sometimes. I’ve heard whispers that he has a
record… I’ve never known him to be violent or anything, but there’s no one else in my
life with the ability to follow me here and take all those pictures in quite that way.”
It was possible she was right, Jack mused. Probable even. But he wasn’t about to take
chances, especially not with her safety. He drew her closer, placed a soft kiss on her bare
shoulder.
“I’ll know more later. I have an appointment to chat with him this afternoon. I’m
hoping to wring a confession out of him, if he’s our guilty party.”
Her shoulders drooped. “I’m grateful to know that I have a few hours of peace in
order to plan my next move, but it pains me to lose someone I thought was a friend.