The Right Path Part 10

"I have no intention of harming you, d.a.m.n it. If I had, there's already been ample opportunity.

What do you picture?" he demanded, shaking her. "Me cutting your throat or tossing you off a cliff?"

Her eyes were dry and direct, more angry now than frightened. "I don't know what I picture."

Abruptly he realized he was hurting her. Cursing himself, he eased the grip to a caress. He couldn't keep letting her get under his skin this way. He couldn't let it matter what she thought of him. "I don't expect you to trust me," he said calmly. "But use common sense. Your involvement was a matter of circ.u.mstance, not design. I don't want to see you hurt, Morgan.

That much you can take as the truth."

And that much she believed. Intrigued, she studied his face. "You're a strange man, Nicholas.

Somehow, I can't quite see you doing something as base as smuggling opium."

"Intuition, Morgan?" Smiling, Nick tangled his fingers in her hair. It was soft, as he remembered, and tempting. "Are you a woman who believes in her intuition, or in her reason?"

"Nicholas-"

"No. No more questions or I'l have to divert you. I'm very"-a frown hovered, then flashed into a grin-"very susceptible to beauty. You have a remarkable supply. Coupled with a very good mind, the combination is hard to resist." Nick lifted the medal at her throat, examined it, then let it fal before he moved back from her. "Tel me, what do you think of Dorian and Iona?"

"I resent this. I resent al of this." Morgan spun away from him. He shouldn't be al owed to affect her so deeply, so easily, then switch off like a light. "I came to Lesbos to get away from pressures and complications." "What sort of pressures and complications?"

She turned back to him, eyes hot. "They're my business. I had a life before I went down to that d.a.m.ned beach and ran into you." "Yes," he murmured and picked up his drink. "I'm sure you did."

"Now, I find myself tossed into the middle of some grade-B thril er. I don't like it."

"It's a pity you didn't stay in bed that night, Morgan." Nick drank deeply, then twirled his gla.s.s by the stem. "Maybe I'm Greek enough to say the G.o.ds didn't wil it so. For the moment your fate's linked with mine and there's nothing either of us can do about it."

She surprised him by laying a hand on his chest. He didn't like the way his heart reacted to the touch. Needs ... he couldn't need. Wants were easily satisfied or ignored, but needs ate at a man.

"If you feel that way, why won't you give me a straight answer?"

"I don't choose to." His eyes locked on hers, cementing her to the spot. In them she saw desire-his and a mirror of her own. "Take me for what I am, Morgan."

She dropped her hand. Frightened not of him now, but of herself. "I don't want to take you at al ."

"No?" He pul ed her close, perversely enjoying her resistance. "Let's see just how quickly I can make a liar of you."

She could taste anger on his mouth, and just as clearly she could taste need.

Morgan stopped resisting. The path of right and wrong took a few more confusing twists when she was in his arms. Whoever, whatever he was, she wanted to be held by him.

Her arms wound around his neck to draw him closer. She heard him murmur something against her mouth; the kiss held a savageness, a demand she was answering with equal abandon.

Had this pa.s.sion always been there, sleeping inside her? It wasn't asleep any longer. The force of it had her clinging to him, had her mouth urgent and hungry against his. Something had opened inside her, letting him pour through. His hands were in her hair, then running down her back in a swift stroke of possession. She arched against him as if daring him to claim her-taunting him to try.

Somehow she knew, as her body fit truly to his, that they would come back to each other, again and again, against their wil , against al reason. She might fight it from moment to moment, but there would be a time. The knowledge fil ed her with hunger and fear.

"Morgan." Her name wrenched from him on a sigh of need. "I want you-by the G.o.ds, I want you. Come, stay here with me tonight. Here, where we can be alone."

His mouth was roaming her face. She wanted to agree. Her body was aching to agree to anything-to everything. Yet, she found herself drawing back.

"No."

Nick lifted his face. His expression was amused and confident. "Afraid?" "Yes."

His brows rose at the unexpected honesty, then drew together in frustration. The look in her eyes made it impossible for him to press his advantage.

"Diabolos, you're an exasperating woman." He strode away and poured more liquor into his gla.s.s. "I could toss you over my shoulder, haul you up to the bedroom, and be done with it."

Though her legs were watery, Morgan forced herself to remain standing. "Why don't you?"

He whirled back, furious. She watched as he slowly pul ed out the control. "You're more accustomed to a wine and candlelight seduction, I imagine. Soft promises. Soft lies." Nick drank deep, then set down his gla.s.s with a bang. "Is that what you want from me?"

"No." Morgan met his fury steadily while her hand reached instinctively for the medal at her throat. "I don't want you to make love to me."

"Don't take me for a fool!" He took a step toward her, then stopped himself.

Another step and neither of them would have a choice. "Your body betrays you every time I touch you."

"That has nothing to do with it," she said calmly. "I don't want you to make love to me."

He waited a beat until the desire and frustration could be tamed a bit. "Because you believe I'm an opium smuggler?"

"No," she said, surprising both of them. She felt her strength waver a moment, then told him the truth. "Because I don't want to be one of your amus.e.m.e.nts.

"I see." Careful y, Nick dipped his hands into his pockets. "I'd better take you back before you discover I find nothing amusing in lovemaking." A half-hour later, Nick slammed back into the house. His temper was foul. He stalked into the salon, poured himself another drink, and slumped into a chair.

d.a.m.n the woman, he didn't have the time or patience to deal with her. The need for her was stil churning inside him like a pain, sharp and insistent.

He took a long swal ow of liquor to dul it. Just physical, he told himself. He'd have to find another woman-any other woman-and release some of the tension.

"Ah, you're back." Stephanos entered. He noted the black temper and accepted it without comment. He'd seen it often enough in the past. "The lady is more beautiful than I remembered." Nick's lack of response left him unperturbed. He moved to the bar and poured himself a drink. "How much did you tel her?"

"Only what was necessary. She's sharp and remarkably bold." Nick eyed the liquid in his gla.s.s with a scowl. "She accused me flat out of smuggling." At Stephanos's cackle of laughter, Nick drained more liquor. "Your sense of humor eludes me at the moment, old man."

Stephanos only grinned. "Her eyes are sharp-they linger on you." Though Nick made no response, Stephanos's grin remained. "Did you speak to her of Alex?"

"Not at length." "Is she loyal?" "To Alex?" Nick frowned into his drink. "Yes, she would be. Where she cares, she'd be loyal." He set down the gla.s.s, refusing to give in to the urge to hurl it across the room. "Getting information out of her won't be easy."

"You'l get it nonetheless."

"I wish to hel she'd stayed in bed that night," Nick said savagely.

The gap-toothed grin appeared before Stephanos tossed back the drink in one long swal ow. He let out a wheezy sigh of appreciation. "She lingers in your mind. That makes you uncomfortable." He laughed loud and long at Nick's scowl, then sighed again with the effort of it. "Athens is waiting for your cal ."

"Athens can fry in hel ."

Chapter Five

Morgan's frame of mind was as poor as Nick's when she entered the Theoharis vil a. Somewhere on the drive back from Nick's she had discovered that what she was feeling wasn't anger. It wasn't fear or even resentment. In a few days Nick had managed to do something Jack hadn't done in al the months she had known him. He'd hurt her.

It had nothing to do with the bruises that were already fading on her arms. This hurt went deeper, and had begun before she had even met him. I t had begun when he had chosen the life he was leading.

Nothing to do with me. Nothing to do with me, Morgan told herself again and again. But she slammed the front door as she swept into the cool white hal .