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He wanted to ask her what had driven her original experimentation. Why had she chosen to do drugs? Was she torn between two lovers? Had he and Grant added too much stress to her life? Was she unable to cope with the added pressure of loving two men? If so, how could she handle loving them both now?

As he stared down at her thin hips and skeletal form, his mind revisited better days. A long time ago, he’d promised to love her. He’d given her his word. He’d always be there for her.

Even though they’d never exchanged vows, after he loved and lost her, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind. One day he planned to ask for Morgan’s hand in marriage. He had planned to make Morgan Keesling his wife.

She faced him all of a sudden and his eyes fell to her sunken belly. “You’re so skinny, Morgan.” He framed her face and kissed her lightly upon the lips. “So fragile.”

“I won’t break,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her hard nipples pressed through his shirt and she enticed him, grinding against him.

He moistened his lips then. Regardless of her size, she was still the sexiest woman alive.

Blake had always liked her wet look. When she wore her hair long, the damp strands clung to her breasts and there was an incredibly sensual look about her. Now, her short hair gave her a slick, sophisticated appearance. She resembled a runway model, one with very little meat on her bones, but she appeared as graceful and elegant as those who strutted down the catwalk.

“I love you,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “I’ve never loved anyone else. I never even thought I was close to falling in love with someone else. You’ve held my heart since I gave it to you all those years ago.”

“I know,” she said softly, looking away. “I’m sorry I wasn’t worthy of your love.”

“Morgan, we all make mistakes.”

“I didn’t just trip or stumble along the way, Blake. I took a tumble into a world I may never be able to leave. What I’ve done, what I’ve seen will stay with me for the rest of my life,” she said, ducking her head under the shower nozzle.

Blake considered the way she made the admission. She stated the obvious in a matter-of-fact tone as if she put everything out there on the table and said, “Mull this over and get back to me,” but her eyes told a different story. She had regrets. She understood what she’d lost, and what she certainly stood to gain if she’d change.

Apparently, she wasn’t as confident as she’d been earlier in the day. Blake could tell Morgan wasn’t sure how long she would stay drug-free.

“And you think others haven’t made mistakes?” He tilted her chin toward his when she stepped away from the water again. “Morgan, there’s nothing we can’t overcome together. You have a strong support system. You will beat this addiction. I believe that. You need to have faith in yourself.”

“I don’t know, Blake. Things are so screwed up now.”

“How?” As if he didn’t know. Hell, he could make a list.

“Like us, for instance. Things are different between us now.”

He would agree with that. In fact, he’d be the first to admit, if he could turn back time, he’d lock his fingers around the minute hand and refuse to acknowledge the stroke of a new hour, the dawn of another day.

“So people change. Who’s to say our relationship won’t be stronger?”

“Or more satisfying?”

“I’m not talking about sex.”

“I am,” she assured him, her fingers raking across her nipples as she playfully inched toward him.

He was painstakingly aware of Morgan’s fidgeting and the way she’d avoided acknowledging her own feelings for him, if she still possessed them. “Why won’t you tell me you love me, too? I know you do. I see it in your eyes.”

“Blake, I don’t know what you expect from me. It’s as if you walked into the house today and expected to pick up exactly where you and I left off.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

“No. To my knowledge I’ve never had a threesome.”

“I know that.” A beat later he said, “There you go changing the subject again. Morgan, you can say it’s too early or you can pretend the old love doesn’t exist anymore. You can play this any way you want, but I know you haven’t forgotten the way you loved me. You haven’t forgotten the love you shared with Grant. If you can’t tell me how you feel, at some point, talk to Grant. Let him know what’s going on in your head. Tell him what’s on your heart.”

He considered that possibility then. What if Morgan loved Grant but didn’t have enough room in her heart to love them both? As quickly as the thought entered his mind, the notion vanished. Morgan would remember the love they’d shared. He had to believe that otherwise his effort to save her would prove more challenging.

She shrugged, brushing him off with that flip attitude of hers.

“You’re afraid. You think one or both of us will walk away.”

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