didn’t entitle him to invade her privacy, to watch…whatever she did by herself—and arouse himself doing it. Arrogant. Rude! So like a man.
The famous O’Malley temper her mother had always talked about was rising hot and fast inside her, greedily lapping at propriety and calm.
Shooting him a venomous glare through the window, Morgan whirled and left the little bathroom, then stalked down the hall, into the kitchen/living room area. She barreled toward the cabin’s front door.
Before she reached it, the door opened. Jack stepped in, fierce and silent. And so taut she could probably bounce knives off him. He closed the door behind him with a quiet click that was nearly lost in the hard stamps of her wet feet across the gleaming wood floor.
“You son of a bitch!” she yelled, charging toward him until they stood a mere foot apart. “How dare you? Did you think I wouldn’t notice or care? Or maybe you thought—”
“Enough.” He didn’t raise his voice but it still lashed like the sting of a whip.
“Go to—”
“Morgan,” he warned, jaw clenching.
She started, clutching her towel around her, her chest rising and falling with anger. His voice filled the room. A command burned in his eyes. He was angry with her? Unbelievable.
Before she could tell him to pound sand, he said. “I had no right to watch you, cher. I went outside to check the perimeter security. You left the partially shutters open, and I couldn’t look away. I’m sorry.”
An apology? That was it? No arguing, no defending himself?
Fury dissipated—much faster than she wanted it to. Hard to stay frothing furious at someone who’d offered an apology, damn it. Even harder to stay mad at a man who’d been transfixed because he liked the sight of her.
But she was an O’Malley and not nearly ready to give up the fight.
“You didn’t have any right! I—I’m completely embarrassed.”
He edged closer. “Of your body? Of being a woman with needs?”
“Of being watched! I can’t believe you just stood there and looked at me like I was the star of some sort of freebie sex show.”
“It’s not good behavior for hosts, I agree. It’s not a habit.” His eyes sparked truth—and a desire that wasn’t going away. “Morgan, admit something, though: Knowing I watched you, that I couldn’t look away, arouses you.”
“No.” She refused to give him the satisfaction, despite her awareness that moisture gushed between her legs at his words.
“Those sultry blue eyes say yes, cher.”
“You need glasses. Did you think I would be okay with you turning my bath into a peepfest? Did you think I’d say, ‘Sure, I know we just met yesterday, but feel free to spy on the most intimate moments of my life?’”
“I was only aware of how of beautiful you looked.” He leaned in. “If you were mine, you’d have no reason to selfpleasure, cher.” He quirked a smile. “Of course, I’d love to see you stroke yourself now and then for the pure viewing fun.”
Risking a glance down, she couldn’t miss the outline of his rigid erection straining the front of his jeans. Morgan felt a flush rise to her skin and that ache tighten between her legs again. No! She needed her anger, all whipped into a nice, frothy fury.
Instead, she became all too aware of how close he stood. Of the fact he was half dressed, while she was barely covered at all. Dangerous territory, especially with Jack looking at her with a dark flame of want blazing in his eyes. Especially with her body warming in response.
Morgan retreated a step.
“Stay there.”
His quiet tones rang with command, vibrated through her. Morgan hesitated, mind racing. She didn’t have to listen, didn’t have to stand before him nearly naked and follow orders. In fact, it was much better if she didn’t…
“Bite me. I’m not a two year-old or a robot,” she shot back and stepped away again.
Jack reached for her.
Run! she ordered herself. Instead, he encircled her wrist with a
The famous O’Malley temper her mother had always talked about was rising hot and fast inside her, greedily lapping at propriety and calm.
Shooting him a venomous glare through the window, Morgan whirled and left the little bathroom, then stalked down the hall, into the kitchen/living room area. She barreled toward the cabin’s front door.
Before she reached it, the door opened. Jack stepped in, fierce and silent. And so taut she could probably bounce knives off him. He closed the door behind him with a quiet click that was nearly lost in the hard stamps of her wet feet across the gleaming wood floor.
“You son of a bitch!” she yelled, charging toward him until they stood a mere foot apart. “How dare you? Did you think I wouldn’t notice or care? Or maybe you thought—”
“Enough.” He didn’t raise his voice but it still lashed like the sting of a whip.
“Go to—”
“Morgan,” he warned, jaw clenching.
She started, clutching her towel around her, her chest rising and falling with anger. His voice filled the room. A command burned in his eyes. He was angry with her? Unbelievable.
Before she could tell him to pound sand, he said. “I had no right to watch you, cher. I went outside to check the perimeter security. You left the partially shutters open, and I couldn’t look away. I’m sorry.”
An apology? That was it? No arguing, no defending himself?
Fury dissipated—much faster than she wanted it to. Hard to stay frothing furious at someone who’d offered an apology, damn it. Even harder to stay mad at a man who’d been transfixed because he liked the sight of her.
But she was an O’Malley and not nearly ready to give up the fight.
“You didn’t have any right! I—I’m completely embarrassed.”
He edged closer. “Of your body? Of being a woman with needs?”
“Of being watched! I can’t believe you just stood there and looked at me like I was the star of some sort of freebie sex show.”
“It’s not good behavior for hosts, I agree. It’s not a habit.” His eyes sparked truth—and a desire that wasn’t going away. “Morgan, admit something, though: Knowing I watched you, that I couldn’t look away, arouses you.”
“No.” She refused to give him the satisfaction, despite her awareness that moisture gushed between her legs at his words.
“Those sultry blue eyes say yes, cher.”
“You need glasses. Did you think I would be okay with you turning my bath into a peepfest? Did you think I’d say, ‘Sure, I know we just met yesterday, but feel free to spy on the most intimate moments of my life?’”
“I was only aware of how of beautiful you looked.” He leaned in. “If you were mine, you’d have no reason to selfpleasure, cher.” He quirked a smile. “Of course, I’d love to see you stroke yourself now and then for the pure viewing fun.”
Risking a glance down, she couldn’t miss the outline of his rigid erection straining the front of his jeans. Morgan felt a flush rise to her skin and that ache tighten between her legs again. No! She needed her anger, all whipped into a nice, frothy fury.
Instead, she became all too aware of how close he stood. Of the fact he was half dressed, while she was barely covered at all. Dangerous territory, especially with Jack looking at her with a dark flame of want blazing in his eyes. Especially with her body warming in response.
Morgan retreated a step.
“Stay there.”
His quiet tones rang with command, vibrated through her. Morgan hesitated, mind racing. She didn’t have to listen, didn’t have to stand before him nearly naked and follow orders. In fact, it was much better if she didn’t…
“Bite me. I’m not a two year-old or a robot,” she shot back and stepped away again.
Jack reached for her.
Run! she ordered herself. Instead, he encircled her wrist with a
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