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be, but somehow it still hurt. The little seashell frame was the only evidence she had ever been here at all.
    Looking at the photos, she realized exactly why Morgan had wanted her out of his life and Kinsey’s. Despite his wealth and the demands of his career, Morgan had managed to give Kinsey a very normal family life. The clutter of frames all contained snapshots, school pictures, and souvenir-stand photos. There were no news clippings. There were no celebrities. There was no place for someone like her.
    She wandered back into the kitchen and poured herself a very large glass of wine from Morgan’s well-stocked fridge. After some consideration, she took the bottle with her back to the den. Then she settled in to wait. With a little help from Napa Valley, she might not even feel her heart breaking when she left again.

Chapter 3
    Morgan rolled his shoulders as the gates swung open and he pulled into the driveway. He had left the house before dawn and now it was after midnight. The meeting with the new client had gone well but traffic had been hell both directions. He was tired and edgy from the long drive. And he still had to deal with Jessica.
    It should have made his mood even worse. Instead, he was energized. Little zings of anticipation danced along his nerve-ends at the thought of her waiting in his home. He felt more awake as he pulled into the driveway than he had when he left San Jose.
    Libido, he thought. He was like Pavlov’s dog. He had rarely spent a day with her that hadn’t ended in some of the hottest sex of his life. His mood was obviously easy to modify with such powerful conditioning.
    Sandy woofed and danced around him as he let himself into the kitchen through the garage. He set his laptop just inside the door to give her an absent-minded pat. He could hear the T.V. in the den, and he headed straight there.
    The room was dark except for the glow of the television and a single lamp by the sofa. Where was she? Kinsey’s room, maybe? He stepped around the sofa to turn off the television and almost tripped over an empty wine bottle.
    He frowned down at it. An empty wineglass rested next to the bottle. From his position at the side of the sofa, he could just see a delicate hand trailing down from the cushions. Ignoring the television, he rounded the front of the sofa.
    Jessica was almost lost in the deep cushions. She was snuggled under a chenille throw which wasn’t quite long enough to reach her feet. She had tucked her knees up, but her pink-tipped toes still peeped out the bottom. Her glorious hair tumbled over her face.
    Passed out. She was passed out on the couch.
    He wanted to be angry. Surely she didn’t expect to drive home after that much alcohol? Aside from the danger, it was a bad example to Kinsey!
    Then again, had he really expected anything else? How could he have forgotten even for a minute how self-absorbed she was? It wouldn’t occur to her to behave any differently. The person who came first in Jessica’s life was Jessica; everyone else only existed to cater to her needs. Hadn’t he learned that lesson well enough four years ago?
    On the sofa, Jessica shifted restlessly and pulled the throw closer around herself. In sleep, she didn’t look like the infamous celebrity author. Jessica Sinclair was larger than life and always willing to take on anyone. Asleep, she was tiny and vulnerable-looking. She barely made a bulge on the sofa. A soft snore escaped her as she snuggled deeper into the cushions.
    Instead of anger, a wave of tenderness swept over him along with the usual jolt of lust he got every time he laid eyes on her. Dandy.
    She roused a little when he lifted her off the sofa, trying not to notice how good she smelled.
    “Morgan?”
    “Shhh, we’ll talk in the morning.”
    “I have to get home.”
    “In the morning.”
    He tucked her into a guest bed where she curled onto her side and instantly fell asleep.
    The sight of her in bed brought back memories of the last time