CHAPTER 19

Jack jolted awake. Damn it! So close this time. So close…but he still couldn’t see her face.

Stirring from a fitful sleep on the sofa, Jack opened his eyes and glanced at his watch. Just after midnight. Now what?

He laid back on the couch, breathing hard, gritting his teeth against a steel-inspired erection that always followed the dream. The fucking thing tormented him more frequently these days— nearly every night for the past two weeks. Why?

Certainly his grandfather and the old man’s crazy theories about soul mates and dreaming of destined lovers was all bullshit. It had to be. If there was any such thing as a woman destined to be his, he wouldn’t torture himself with a dream. He’d simply find her and claim her. And prove she was just another woman he could walk away from. End of story.

Jack was perfectly happy with that explanation except…why did the woman in his dream have the same hair as Morgan if the dream was irrelevant? Why did Morgan feel like more than the means to his re