“While some off-kilter psycho is taking shots at your head. Sounds like a great guy.”
“He didn’t want to go,” she defended. “His job—”
“Has anything else happened besides you receiving these pictures? Anyone break
into your house?”
“Yes, and…” Morgan swallowed, then whispered, “He masturbated on my bed. That’s
when I got scared and left L.A.”
Sudden tears scalded her eyes, her cheeks, surprising her. She thought she was more
together than that. Tears weren’t going to help this situation. But the reality of it all was hitting her hard.
Jack sat beside her in a heartbeat, all hint of anger gone. Gently, he eased her back
and leaned over her, brushing a gentle hand across her cheek, wiping tears away.
Morgan stared at the man, the contradiction. Tenderness and compassion from a man
who’d forced the truth from her, threw her arousal at his touch in her face? A man who
bound his women?
“You did the right thing, leaving L.A. and agreeing to stay here. This guy is fixated
and dangerous, no question.”
Embarrassed by her tears and too conscious of Jack’s closeness, Morgan looked away.
“I hate being afraid and having my life turned upside down. The sooner we get this over
with, the better.”
“We’ll fix it,” he murmured. “Who knew where you went after you left L.A.?”
A furrow wrinkled her brow as she tried to recall. “Reggie, my production assistant.
My neighbor, who’s watching my cat. Sabrina, who does my makeup for the show. I can’t
remember. I left in a blur…”
“Having some someone uninvited jack off on your bed would throw anyone for a
loop.”
Jack took her hand, sandwiched it between his strong, calloused palms as he hovered
over her in the shadowed moonlight. Holy cow, he was so good-looking he hurt her eyes.
Strong jaw, chiseled mouth, two days’ growth roughening what might have been an
otherwise pretty face. Wide, muscle-capped shoulders topped off a hard, six-packed torso
any woman would drool over.
Morgan wanted to be unmoved by him, his aura of power, his touch. It wasn’t in the
cards. His gaze roved over her, part reassuring, part hot remembrance. God, she couldn’t
forget either, his breath on her neck, his hands palming her breasts, his fingers buried
inside her, nearly bringing her to orgasm. His mouth on hers.
Survival first, pleasure later. Much later. And not with Jack.
Yes, she wanted a self-possessed man, but this one…he was too much. Of everything
that called to her, of everything she didn’t need at this point in her life. She had no
business thinking about him. Jack possessed lethal power, barely concealed by careful
restraint. The primal male animal lurked just under the surface of his skin, leashed by
his control and air of authority—and a thin façade of civility.
A woman didn’t handle a man like Jack. He had all the subtlety of a steamroller, and
if Morgan gave him the slightest hint that his brand of domination interested her, she
knew he’d roll over her fairly inexperienced body and leave her flat. No thanks.
Now if only her lust-saturated thoughts would catch on. He was a business contact
and the man trying to protect her. Her response to him needed to stop there. She was
focused on expanding her career, not the need moistening her vagina.
But she knew what Jack was and what he wanted from a woman. Curiosity could be
almost as powerful as desire. And none of her admonishments could douse the arousal
that seeped through her blood.
Morgan took a deep breath. Okay, so he could bring her pleasure. Surely lots of other
guys could, without all the domination and bondage. Without the frightening sense that
he could control a woman’s body with little more than a stare, a stern word, and a
naughty smile. True, Morgan hadn’t found such a man yet.
She sighed at her circular logic. Nothing mattered now except that Jack could keep
her safe. She needed that so badly— assurances that she wasn’t going to wind up dead in
a ditch somewhere, that she could escape from the nightmare her life had become
virtually overnight.
Jack squeezed her hand. “After dawn, I’ll call a buddy of mine who has a lot of
contacts inside the FBI and see if he can start a profile.”
“Thank you.” She hoped Jack and his pal would get to the bottom of this soon so she
could get on with her life and on with her show.
“Why don’t you try to go back to sleep?”
Tension rose up like quicksand, threatening to drown her. “I’m done sleeping. Too
worried. Too wired.”
Jack leaned in and fondled a lock of her hair between his fingers and frowned. He