Jack’s mouth pressed into a grim line. “Where is he now?”
“Out of the country for a few weeks.”
“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 br**sts, 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 turned dark chocolate eyes on her. The air between them turned so thick, Morgan couldn’t drag a lungful in. Heat radiated from him, warming her all the way to her bones. His scent hit her with the force of a battering ram—spice, sweat, swamp, and pure mystery.
Damn it, she was so aware of him as a man…
“Try. You’ve got to keep your strength up.” He sent her a ghost of a smile. “You never know when you might need it.” #