She refused to be embarrassed by his words. But the gun pointed at her, making her
heart pound, scared the hell out of her.
“Yes.”
Jack glanced in her direction, then stared at Deke, some silent communication
between them that she couldn’t understand.
Andrew shook his head. “And now a morning spent cheating on your fiancé and
sandwiched between these two testosterone-oozing lugs. For what? A few orgasms? You
and I knew each other’s minds and shared the joy of quality work, elevating tawdry sex to
art, until you threw it away.”
Brandon leapt toward Andrew, reaching out to swipe the gun from his jittery grasp.
Andrew roared and scrambled away, firing two shots in Brandon’s direction. Morgan
heard herself scream as the retort of fire deafened her. Her brother threw himself to the
ground and rolled away from the bullets.
Breath held, Morgan launched herself from the bed to check on Brandon.
“Back in the bed!” Andrew roared, turning the gun on her again. “Now!”
Easing back under the sheets, she covered her nudity again, shaking. Her hammering
heartbeat nearly deafened her. Andrew was serious. Deadly serious. And Brandon… Oh,
God, had he been shot?
Slowly, Jack bent to help Brandon up. Andrew’s grip tightened on the gun, his mouth
compressing into a grim white line.
Once on his feet, her brother turned to send her a reassuring glance. “I’m fine. Just
do what he says, Morgan.”
“And nobody else do anything stupid or heroic,” Andrew snarled, tossing his arms
around wildly, still clutching the chilling, shiny weapon.
Morgan forced herself to take a deep breath, tried to push calm through her body. She
knew Andrew. Hysterics on her part would only up his dramatics. And he was an opera
fan, a performing art where all the central characters frequently died and the audience
applauded the tragedy of it all.
Please God, no such tragedy for her. She had to save herself, and stop Brandon, Jack,
and Deke from doing something heroically fatal.
Morgan sucked in a breath and lowered her voice, trying to sound much calmer than
she was. “Why are you here? My life is no longer your concern, Andrew.”
“You ignored my notes and photos. You ran when I left my semen on your bed as a
reminder of the place where we once connected. I tried to make you understand where
you belonged and to whom you belonged. I could have forgiven you for Mr. Ross in time.
You and I argued, and you might have thought I didn’t intend to return for you. But
these two…” He waved a shaking fist again, this time at Jack and Deke, gun clenched
tight in his grip. “I should have shot you at that strip club. I would have if the nasty den
of iniquity hadn’t been so crowded.”
Andrew’s words staggered her, making her mind race with implications. “So Reggie
didn’t…wasn’t…?”
Andrew rolled his eyes and sighed with impatience. “Pursuing you?”
“This is stalking, asshole,” Deke growled.
With a shake of her head, Morgan tried to shush him.
Thankfully, Andrew ignored him. “Reggie? Of course not. Didn’t you see me at the
strip club? I looked right at you? You almost fooled me with the disguise, but I’d know
your eyes anywhere.”
“I couldn’t see through the crowded strip club,” she murmured. “It was you? Given
the pictures I received, I thought— ”
Her ex-fiancé rolled his eyes. “Please. He taught me to take pictures and develop
them. He had no idea I took pictures of you until just the other day.”
Andrew sniffed, and Morgan knew he was insulted that she’d believed even for a
moment that Reggie could stalk her as properly as he had.
“He didn’t help you at all?” Keep him talking, distract him. Stay calm. Find some way
out of this damn dangerous mess.
“He’s too stupid. For a time, he helped me keep track of you, in the interest of
flattering and protecting you. And once he figured it out, well, the stupid lug went to
warn you, but he couldn’t find you.” Andrew shook his head, contempt twisting his face.
“He upset that stripper whore last night and got himself arrested before he could warn
you I was in town.”
“You? You’ve been my stalker all along?”
Jack grimaced at her, then sent another glance to Deke. Out of the corner of her eye,
she saw Deke nod. She tensed.
They were going to do something stupid and heroic—and get themselves killed.
“No,” Morgan whispered at them.
“I am your savior!” Andrew shouted over her, then stiffened, his face darkening to a
thunderous scowl. “Someone has to save you from yourself. When we first dated, you