Jack spun when she entered, none too happy with her arrival.
He held up a copy of the World Courier. He’d scrunched the flimsy newsprint up so hard she couldn’t make out the headlines.
Her belly sank at the expression on Mac’s face. She wanted, badly, to rub her achy gut, but she took the paper from Jack instead.
The muscle in Mac’s jaw jumped. Never a good sign. She stared at him. She didn’t want to look at what must be another damning photo. “There’s an article and more pictures of you. From last night.” His tic worked faster and he raised his voice. “You have to quit that job!”
“That job is all I’ve got!” The thud of the bullets in the dirt by her feet rattled through her skull.
“He warned me off, Mac. He didn’t want to kill me.” The words of reassurance cost her big-time.
“Oh, God,” he mumbled, and drew her into his arms. She went stiff at his rough grasp, but let him hold her. He spoke against her ear and neck. “It was bad enough that you shook and cried in my arms, but to see you run for your life—I can’t take it.”
She used to love the thrill of the chase, the hunt, outwitting men and finding people who didn’t want to be found.
Jack pointed to the crinkled pages still in her hand, forgotten. She placed the tabloid on Mac’s desk and smoothed the front page. “Oh, I see.” Mac was right—she was running for her life. Her grimace was gruesome, her boobs looked about to pop out of her T-shirt, and her shorts had ridden high on her butt. She had no idea adrenaline could look like that. Ugly, really, really ugly.
This is who Kingston McRae is slumming with these days. Morgan Swann, fleeing bullets, sirens blaring on a quiet street. Why is our favorite bachelor hanging with a woman like this?
THE HEADLINE MADE IT look as if the cops were chasing her. It was a vicious slant on the real events.
“I was so smug about losing the blonde in that beige beater.” Twice in the day she’d taken vehicles to the impound lot. “I must have picked up a tail from a real reporter afterward.”
But she had to admit, she looked pretty wild in the photos. Nothing at all like the beauties he was usually seen with. “Oh, yay! More pictures on page two.” It wasn’t as much fun to turn the page when she was the subject of the story.
The next photo showed her bent over at the waist, clutching her knees as she tried to catch her breath. She remembered that moment. It had felt like someone had knocked all the oxygen from her lungs. The back side of her shorts looked like something out of a porn flick. If it hadn’t been dark outside, the photo would have had a fade-out to obscure her private parts. As it was, she seemed to be offering herself. The only thing worse would have been a front-page spread, but the photo was too lurid to be displayed in grocery stores.
“They make me look like I’m drunk and ready to pass out.” Or worse. “And that Joe—”
“I don’t care about the pictures, or the comment on slumming,” Mac said. “It’s too ridiculous! We’ll sue for libel. They’ve got no right to say you’ve been to jail.”
She swallowed hard and skimmed the article. “Technically it was juvie,” she said softly. “But those records are supposed to be sealed. I was fifteen.” She refused to look at Mac. She had mentioned it, but he’d fixated on the number of stepfathers in her life and she had let the moment for truth pass.
Jack swore. “I should have known.”
“Guess your security team’s not so hotshot after all,” Morgan quipped.
“So, it’s true?” Mac murmured with a frown.
She shrugged. Truth time. It had to come out sooner or later. “Yes. I mentioned it to you, but you assumed I was busted for joyriding. The conversation moved on.”
She raised her chin and ignored Jack’s narrowed gaze. “I’m past being defensive about the mistakes I’ve made.” What was important were the lessons she’d learned from those years.
And one of those lessons rolled through her right now. Charmed! Kingston McRae had charmed her just as easily as Johnny DeLongo had. Both times, she’d taken a chance on men and she was the one who ended up with her life in tatters.
Damn! Why couldn’t she learn to steer clear of charmers?
Mac hadn’t set out to ruin her life or use her the way Johnny had, but the devastation was the same. Except this time, her mother was there for her, unlike in her teens.
She walked past Jack and around Mac’s desk to the window. From here she could see the roof of the portico and the drive that led down to his estate gates.
“If it wasn’t joyriding, then what was it?” Jack asked.
“I stole cars for a car theft ring,” she said baldly. “And for a time it was a hell of a lot of fun. Thrilling, even. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I wasn’t up-front about it, but I tried.” She shrugged and crossed her arms under her breasts as she leaned against the window frame. “I understood exactly what I was doing, and I knew the cars would never get back to their owners.” She shrugged again. “I figured most of the rich dudes had insurance.”
“Rich dudes?” It was Mac, sounding hollow.
Mac was seeing the real her. She decided she might as well dig the hole she was in deeper. “My mother figured it would teach me a lesson for being stupid about men. She refused to cooperate with any offers to send me for counseling instead of incarcerating me.”
“What kind of lessons could a teenage girl learn in jail?”
“Not to depend on anyone to get me out of trouble.”
“Which in your mind equates with being rescued.” Mac’s sharp voice stung.
“It also gave my mother time without me around to snag her next husband.” This was it, the end. Now that Mac saw the real Morgan Swann, she could go back to her own life. Or what was left of it.
“What facility were you in?” It was Jack.
“So you can check my story? See how bad I really was?” When he didn’t respond, she went on. “I had a judge who knew the gang used young teenage girls. He offered me a place in a halfway house after he talked to my mother. I got the help I needed and have stayed out of trouble ever since.”
“Did you go back home afterward?”
She shrugged. “I did a couple of college semesters, but when my mother divorced that husband, I left and struck out on my own.” The memory of her first glimpse of Kingston McRae in a tabloid washed over her. She’d been lonely, broke and afraid of sliding back into crime. The way she’d latched onto his image as some kind of lynchpin or life-saving ring had been peculiar, but it had helped at the time.
Not now.
She wasn’t that young woman anymore. This time she could go to her mother for help. She had BB to lean on, even Joe and the other drivers.
Mac shook his head. “You’ve been on your own ever since? You were what? Eighteen?” In the window she caught his expression of sympathy. He shook his head. “Man, I thought I had it rough.”
His expression stung her pride. “Keep your pity, Mac. A lot of kids had it worse than me. I paid my debt, got on the right side of the law and stayed there. I’m honest, dedicated and have my priorities in order.” Her declaration silenced the men, until Jack crossed his arms over his chest.
Great. A speech.
“Spit it out, Jack,” she forestalled him. “You want me gone, so I’ll go. I’ll never bother Mac again.” She moved quickly, afraid her eyes might overflow.
Stupidly, she’d fallen for Mac’s charm and sophistication. He hadn’t set out to ruin her life, to take her job, to break her heart. She was the one who’d allowed it, even when she’d known better.
Only an impulsive fool ignored everything they’d learned.
She took three steps.
Mac reached out so quickly she couldn’t dodge him when he took her arm. “You’re not going anywhere. Not without me. We’ll go wherever you like. A resort? Canada? Europe?”
She shook off his hand, her heart cracking at the concern in his voice. But she’d caused enough trouble. “I can take care of myself.” She
was used to it. “In fact, I prefer to.”
13
“MORGAN, DON’T TAKE this on yourself,” Mac said. “Bessie was spray-painted because of the first photo. I was the one who behaved like a Neanderthal, the one who dragged you into that coat check. I didn’t care who saw us! I didn’t think about anything but getting you alone. I’m the one who knows better.”
She blinked, trying hard not to listen, not to believe.
He lowered his voice and leaned in close. “I wanted you so badly, I didn’t care that we could be seen. I still want you that way. That much.”
She couldn’t look away from him. Couldn’t move, couldn’t think.
“I want to make this right.” His voice was rough, needy.
Hearing him like that made her back down, less ready to run for her life. He had hold of her heart again and he knew it.
Oh, crap.
With an effort that cost her dearly, she gathered her wits for one last attempt to break free. “I have a place I can go where no one will find me. You don’t have to worry.” She reached her hand up to his cheek, his bristly skin warm against her palm.
“Take care of yourself,” she said, struggling to hold on to reason and logic. What she wouldn’t give to enjoy a getaway with Mac. Somewhere exciting with palm trees and icy drinks in martini glasses. She bit back a sigh, seduced by the images. “I can’t go with you. I’ve got my work, the youth center’s open house is coming up. I’ve shirked my responsibilities there for long enough.” A small lie about her job couldn’t hurt at this point. If he knew her position at Five Aces was tenuous, he’d insist on helping her. He’d understand about her volunteer work—he was a mentor himself.
“Please understand, Mac. This is for the best.” Florida beckoned. She would hide at her mom’s place until this blew over. They could reconnect. Elizabeth had reached out when Morgan needed her.
Jack cleared his throat, startling them out of their mental tango. “You’ll need protection when you leave,” he said to Morgan with a sharp nod. Was that admiration she read in his gaze?
He reached for his phone but Mac stopped him with an impatient wave of his hand.
“Morgan’s not going anywhere without me.” Mac held out his phone. “Call and make this right at Five Aces, then we’ll order some clothes for you and we’ll head for the airport. The youth center will have to manage without you.”
Pride came to her rescue. She would not be swept away. She would not be charmed. She would not be clothed, not when she had perfectly good clothes in her bedroom closet at home.
“You don’t understand. My life isn’t your life. My life is work, work, more work and then I volunteer to work. Get it?” He had to understand what he was asking of her. Elizabeth had depended on men her whole life. Morgan would be damned if she did it, too. “If I need clothes I wait for end-of-season sales and hit the stores then. I don’t have designer labels delivered to my house to pick and choose from.” She held up her hands. “These aren’t manicured for a reason, Mac. I use them.”
His face went thunder dark. “I want to keep you safe. The stalker knows where you live and work. To hell with the paparazzi. It’s the stalker I’m worried about.”
“I’ll move away. The stalker wants me gone, so I’ll go. Long term, all this will be forgotten.”
“Will I be forgotten?” His voice went deep with earthy urgency. She saw heated memories flash in his eyes and melted.
Rory stepped into the room, frazzled and shaken. “I just found this in with the mail!” He held up a brown envelope with no name or address on the front.
Jack inspected the envelope before gingerly opening it, careful to handle the paper with tissue so he wouldn’t smudge any fingerprints.
A photo slid out with scrawled letters in red across it. The image was different from the Courier’s. This picture had been shot from another angle.
“Someone else was there,” she said. “Another camera.” She glanced at Jack, who was glaring at Mac.
Get rid of the bitch.
“The writing’s similar to what’s on your truck.”
“We’re out of here,” Mac said. “We’ll get clothes when we land.”
Jack frowned. “I’ve got to advise against leaving, Mac. Remember the first photos were of you disembarking from the jet. Whoever this is knows where you keep the jet and may know your pilot’s name.”
Morgan felt a trickle of fear slither down her back. “This is a nightmare,” she said, “and I want to wake up now.” Mac enfolded her in his arms. She went into them without protest and took comfort in his strength and familiar scent. She had to stop this! She had to stop leaning on him.
And she would, soon. When all this was over, she’d walk away and lick her wounds in private.
“When you upgraded the security, did you install a camera by the mailbox at the gate?”
“I asked for cameras to cover both directions.” He hurried to a monitor, keyed in come commands on the keyboard.
Jack and Rory swore in tandem at what they saw onscreen.
“They mounted one fixed camera six feet above the mailbox and aimed it at the entrance. Unless the person walked up from the direction of the gate, we wouldn’t get a shot of them.” He sagged in defeat. “Damn it, I should have made sure they installed a pair of roving cameras. I should have seen to this myself.”
His phone rang, breaking off anything Mac might have said. Jack answered and listened a moment. “Good work. I’m on my way over. Wait for me.” He flipped his phone closed and grinned wide.
“What’s up?”
“Jonathan Lake is a real person. A college kid.”
Mac frowned. “Old enough to understand what he’s doing is illegal.”
“What’s the connection to Mac?” Morgan asked.
“Jonathan Lake is Lila Markham’s younger brother.”
“You dated her about five months ago,” Morgan broke in, excited. “The Courier said for weeks that this was it for Kingston McRae. They said you’d never resist Lila’s charms, because all of her costars had fallen for her.” Morgan remembered feeling sad that he might actually be in love with the woman. She’d never seemed right for him.
Another of Rory’s earthy curses exploded into the room. “Lila! Of course! She wanted to befriend Lindsay. And she spent a lot of time with me when we remodeled the kitchen. She gave me excellent suggestions and came over many times when Mac was out.” He clenched his hands into fists so tight his knobby knuckles went white. “I gave her ample opportunity to learn whatever she wanted about the running of the house. She could have slipped into the office at any time, gone anywhere! How could I be so gullible?”
Morgan crowed. “I knew she was wrong for you! I just knew it!” Her outburst echoed in the silence after Rory’s confession.
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, but I had a crush on Mac for years,” she confessed, then clarified, “I mean, on the Kingston McRae who showed up in the tabloids.” Totally different men as far as she was now concerned.
“A crush?”
She fanned out her fingers. “Totally over it!”
Rory pursed his lips, while Jack darted a derisive glance at the ceiling. Mac grinned. “Over it? I hope not.”
“Oh, you know what I mean.” She waved her hands. “It was a silly crush that fed some fantasies. That’s all.”
Mac grinned. “You can tell me about your fantasies later.”
She flushed, a victim of her impulsive tongue again, and faced the men. Two of them looked everywhere but at her, while Mac beamed as if he’d found a pot of gold.
He snapped his fingers. “That’s why you took so long to get the Morgan hooked up that first time. You were dawdling, hoping to what? Meet me? Admit it, Morgan.”
“Can we get back to your scorned woman? Please? She’s the one who messed you up, not me.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” Mac murmured.
“Right, Lila,” Jack said. “Why would her brother hack into Mac’s computer system? Why
mess with him? Did Lila go cry on his shoulder? Does he have a history of this kind of thing?” He called his team to ask those questions and more.
By the time Jack Carling was through with Jonathan Lake he’d be expelled from college at the least and jailed at the worst. She felt a spear of compassion for Lila’s brother. Family dynamics might have been part of his decision and there was no telling what Jack had planned for Lila.
Mac stared at Morgan until she shifted warily. “What?”
“You wanted me before you got here.” The intensity of his gaze narrowed on her face, her eyes, her soul.
Jack took his phone call into the hall and Rory scuttled out after him.
She rocked back on her heels and shoved her hands in her pockets. “So, what if I did? It wasn’t anything real. It was a silly, long-distance crush.” Played out between the pages of a trash-talking tabloid.
“What about now?”
“What about now?” She pretended he wasn’t mining for information. Pretended she didn’t care if he was.
“Is this just a crush for you? Are you living out a fantasy? Is it the ‘rich dude’ thing?”
“In a way, I wish it was.” She patted her heart. “This is…infatuation. We just have it at the same time.”
“We both have it. And?”
“It will last as long as it lasts. Can we agree to let it play out in private? I don’t want to be exposed to the circus at the gates any more than I already have been.”
He nodded. “Good. I want to see where this is going, too. I’m sorry about the circus and your job. I’m sorry about the vandalism to Bessie, and that you can’t go home if you want to. If I’d ignored my interest in you, none of this would have happened.”
“We wouldn’t know each other. I wouldn’t have met Lindsay, or Rory, for that matter.” She’d never have glimpsed life on this side of the gates.
He leaned against the window, arms crossed over his chest. His large, brawny chest that she loved to snuggle into.
Possessing Morgan Page 16
