Heidi lets Morgan tug her arm. It's true that he does not but only guides her in a grip that is shifting into an almost-cordial hold. He steers her forward with the sort of confident motion that has broken stronger people than her. Grayson steps out and opens the back door, making Heidi stiffens in the seat, at the knowledge that she is stepping into the waiting sanctum of the two men who have stalked her nights and cliffs of late.
"Don't be stubborn, baby," Morgan says, sliding into the back seat beside her as he closes the door with a soft click that muffles the courtyard noise. His proximity is immediate, warm, and contained; his arm brushes hers, and the world narrows to a slice of heat and the faint tang of his cologne. The car's leather smells of sun and expensive polish. For a second it is a place where the noise can be shut away.
