A flame of desire burst to life between Morgan’s legs. Bad, bad, bad. Stop now! She closed her eyes, blocking out the sensation, the longing. The rampant curiosity and the ache.
“You’re a pushy bastard, you know that?”
“I’m a dominant man who’s reached the end of my patience with your little-girl games. Now, have you spoken to Pherson since that night?”
Her temper fired up a notch. “A few times. He sent me flowers the week after I spent the night with him. He called every few weeks, whenever he was back in town. I just wasn’t interested anymore. He finally got the picture and stopped calling.”
“Nothing since?”
She shook her head. He let the subject of Brent drop.
“I’m still not ruling him out. And bachelor number three?”
“Andrew Cummings. He’s about your height. Salt-andpepper hair, gray eyes. He just turned thirty-nine. He was the producer for Turn Me On last year. We started dating shortly after the…incident with Brent. Within a month, he asked me to marry him.”
“You said…?” Jack inched forward, crowding her personal space.
“Yes. He was good-looking, cultured, connected, seemed intelligent, and funny. Why not?”
He tensed—mouth, shoulders, abs. “When did it end?”
“About ten months ago.”
“Because…?”
Because Andrew’s male ego had been frustrated by her difficulty climaxing in the bedroom. He’d seemed so worldly, like a beacon of inner calm in a stormy life, she’d been sure he would be the man to unlock that something inside her that would set her body and heart free. He’d tried often…succeeded rarely. Finally, he coaxed her into revealing her deepest desires, the ones that involved her being bound and dominated. Thinking it would help them, she’d bared her soul and even revealed her most secret fantasy: being taken by two men at once. Not that she’d really do any of the things that spun in the deep recesses of her mind. They were just fantasies… A fact lost on Andrew.
He’d called her depraved—and some other less flattering things that seared pain through her gut and a shame that boiled her temper every time she thought about it.
She’d thrown his ring back at him. He’d taken it and quit the show. They hadn’t spoken since.
And not for anything would she share a whisper of that with Jack.
“It just wasn’t working out,” she hedged.
“Why?”
“We…just didn’t get along as well as we thought.”
“You’re holding out on me,” he growled, grabbing her wrist.
Morgan jerked away from the electric heat of his touch. “That’s all you’re going to get. He left me, and I was happy to have him gone. As I’ve said, I doubt very much that he suddenly wants me back.”
“Until you tell me the truth, I can’t comment.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“That’s all the truth you need.”
Jack’s thundercloud of an expression told Morgan he disagreed. “Time will tell.” He took a step back. “Who is your ‘friend’ in Houston?”
Knowing she hadn’t heard the last of Jack’s questions about her broken engagement with Andrew, Morgan took a bracing breath and answered, “His name is Brandon Ross.”
Jack’s jaw tightened. “Is he more than a friend?”
She hesitated. No one knew she and Brandon were related. Keeping the secret had been part of her mother’s settlement with Senator Ross years ago. He would come after her with both barrels if she let the truth out. So she and Brandon had concocted the engagement hoax when she started staying with him.
Maybe…maybe if she used it here, it would ease the temperature down between her and Jack.
“Yes. He’s my fiancé. My—my current one.”