Her mind shook with a mix of shock and disbelief. Dismay wasn't far behind.
And she was still naked. She, who never slept bare, still lay in the bed of the man who instigated her downfall into the most forbidden sin and found a way to make her pant for it. And now, she laid in his bed like she was waiting for him to do it all again.
Frowning, Morgan remembered him sleeping beside her last night. No, not beside her; tangled with her. His solid warmth curled around her back, his hand splayed over her abdomen. The steady rhythm of his hard male breathing had drifted into her ear.
She hadn't slept well in weeks, not since the problems with her stalker had started in earnest. But even when she felt safe in her relatively secure apartment, she never slept that deeply. Next to Jack, she'd felt cherished, protected—totally able to fall into the black chasm of slumber.
