The Right Path Part 25

Morgan's breath caught at the pressure and the sudden gleam of triumph in his eyes. "You do now."

Capturing her mouth, he pul ed her to the sand.

His lips were urgent, burning. His talk of branding raced through her head, but Morgan accepted the fire eagerly. And already he was stripping off her shirt as if he couldn't bear even the thin separation between them.

Morgan knew he would always love like this. Intensely, without thought, without reason. She gloried in it. Desire this strong took no denial. Her own fingers were busy with his shirt, ripping at the seam in her hurry to be flesh to flesh. She heard him laugh with his mouth pressed against her throat.

There was no longer any right or wrong. Needs were too great. And love. Even as pa.s.sion drove her higher, Morgan knew and recognized her love. She had waited for it al of her life. With the heat building, there was no time to question how it could be Nick. She only knew it was, whatever, whoever, he was.

Nothing else mattered.

When his hands found her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s, he groaned and crushed his lips to hers again. She was so soft, so slender. He struggled not to bruise her, not again, but desire was wild and free in him. He'd never wanted a woman like this. Not like this. Even when he had taken her the first time, he hadn't felt this clean silver streak of power.

She was consuming him, pouring inside his mind. And the taste. Dear G.o.d, would he never get enough of the taste of her? He found her breast with his mouth and fil ed himself.

Morgan arched and dove her fingers into his hair. He was murmuring something, but his breathing was as ragged as hers and she couldn't understand.

When his mouth was back on hers, there was no need to. She felt him tugging her jeans over her hips, but was too delirious to realize she had pul ed at his first. She felt the skin stretched tight over his bones, the surprising narrowness of his body.

Then his lips and hands were racing over her-not in the angry desperation she remembered from the night before, but in unquestionable possession.

There was no gentleness, but neither was there a fierceness. He took and took as though no one had a better right. Those strong lean fingers stroked down her, making her gasp out loud in pleasure, then moan in torment when they lay stil .

His mouth was always busy, tongue lightly torturing, teeth taking her to the edge of control. There seemed to be no part of her, no inch he couldn't exploit for pleasure. And the speed never slacked.

Cool sand, cool water, and his hot, clever mouth-she was trapped between them.

There was moonlight, rippling white, but she was a wil ing prisoner of the darkness. In the grove of cypresses a night bird cal ed out-one long, haunting note. It might have been her own sigh. She tasted the sea on his skin, knew he would taste it on hers as wel . Somehow, that smal intimacy made her hold him tighter.

They might have been the only ones, washed ash.o.r.e, destined to be lovers throughout their lives without the need for anyone else. The scent of the night wafted over her-his scent. They would always be the same to her.

Then she heard nothing, knew nothing, as he drove her beyond reason with his mouth alone.

She was grasping at him, demanding and pleading in the same breathless whispers for him to give her that final, delirious relief. But he held her off, pleasing himself, and pleasing her until she thought her body would simply implode at the pressure that was building.

With a wild, hungry kiss he silenced her while leading her closer to the edge.

Though she could feel his heart racing against hers, he seemed determined to hold them there-an instant, an hour-hovering between heaven and hel .

When he drove them over, Morgan wasn't certain on which side they had fal en- only that they had fal en together.

* * * Morgan lay quiet, cushioned against Nick's bare shoulder. The waves gently caressed her legs. In the aftermath of the demands of pa.s.sion she was light and cool and stunned. She could feel the blood stil pounding in his chest and knew no one, no one had ever wanted her like this. The sense of power it might have given her came as an ache. She closed her eyes on it.

She hadn't even struggled, she thought. Not even a token protest. She had given herself without thought-not in submission to his strength, but in submission to her own desires. Now, as the heat of pa.s.sion ebbed, she felt the hard edge of shame.

He was a criminal-a hard, self-seeking man who trafficked in misery for profit.

And she had given him her body and her heart. Perhaps she had no control over her heart, but Morgan was honest enough to know she ruled her own body.

Shivering, she drew away from him.

"No, stay." Nick nuzzled in her hair as he held her against his side.

"I have to go in," she murmured. Morgan drew her body away as far as his arm would permit. "Please, let me go."

Nick shifted until his face hovered over hers. His lips were curved in amus.e.m.e.nt; his face was relaxed and satisfied. "No," he said simply. "You won't walk away from me again."

"Nicholas, please." Morgan turned her head aside. "It's late. I have to go."

He became stil for a moment, then took her face firmly in his hand and turned it back to his. He saw the gleam of tears, tightly control ed, and swore. "It occurs to you suddenly that you've just given yourself to a criminal and enjoyed it."

"Don't!" Morgan shut her eyes. "Just let me go in. Whatever I've done, I've done because I wanted to."

Nick stared down at her. She was dry-eyed now, but her eyes were bleak.

Swearing again, he reached for his partial y dry shirt and pul ed Morgan into a sitting position. Athens, he thought again, could fry in hel .

"Put this on," he ordered, swinging it over her shoulders. "We'l talk." "I don't want to talk. There's no need to talk."

"I said we'l talk, Morgan." Nick pushed her arm into a sleeve. "I won't have you feeling guilty over what just happened." She could feel the simmering anger pulsing from him as he pul ed his shirt over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "I won't have that," he muttered. "It's too much. I can't explain everything now ... there are some things I won't ever explain."

"I'm not asking for explanations."

His eyes locked on hers. "You ask every time you look at me." Nick pul ed a cigarette from the pocket of the shirt, then lit it. "My business in import- export has made me quite a number of contacts over the years. Some of whom, I imagine, you wouldn't approve of." He mused over this for a moment as he blew out a hazy stream of smoke.

"Nicholas, I don't-"

"Shut up, Morgan. When a man's decided to bare his soul, a woman shouldn't interrupt. G.o.d knows how dark you'l find it," he added, as he drew in smoke again. "When I was in my early, impressionable twenties, I met a man who considered me suitable for a certain type of work. I found the work itself fascinating. Danger can become addicting, like any other drug."

Yes, she thought as she stared out over the water. If nothing else, she could understand that.

"I began to-freelance." He smiled at the term, but it had little to do with humor.

"For his organization. For the most part I enjoyed it. In any case, I was content with it. It's amazing that a way of life, ten years of my life should become a prison in a week's time."

Morgan had drawn her knees close to her chest while she stared out over the water. Nick laid a hand on her hair, but she stil didn't look at him. He was finding it more difficult to tel her than he had imagined. Even after he'd finished, she might turn away from him. He'd be left with nothing-less than nothing. He drew hard on his cigarette, then stared at the red glow at the tip.

"Morgan, there are things I've done ..." He swore briefly under his breath. "There are things I've done I wouldn't tel you about even if I were free to. You wouldn't find them pleasant."

Now she lifted her face. "You've kil ed people."

He found it difficult to answer when she was looking at him with tired despair in her eyes. But his voice was cool with control. "When it was necessary."

Morgan lowered her head again. She hadn't wanted to think him a murderer. If he had denied it, she would have tried to have taken him at his word. She hadn't wanted to believe he was capable of what she considered the ultimate sin. The taking of a life.

Nick scowled at the cigarette and hurled it into the sea. I could have lied to her, he thought furiously. Why the hel didn't I just lie-I'm an expert at it. Because I can't lie to her, he realized with a tired sigh. Not anymore. "I did what I had to do, Morgan," he said flatly. "I can't erase the way I've lived for ten years. Right or wrong, it was my choice. I can't apologize for it."

"No, I'm not asking you to. I'm sorry if it seems that way." She drew herself up again and faced him. "Please, Nicholas, let's leave it at this. Your life's your own. You don't have to justify it to me."

"Morgan-" If she had hurled abuse at him, stabbed him with ice, he might have been able to keep silent. But he couldn't be silent while she struggled to understand. He would tel her, and the decision he'd been struggling with for days would be made. "For the last six months, I've been working on breaking the smuggling ring that runs between Turkey and Lesbos."

Morgan stared at him as though she'd never seen him before. "Breaking it? But I thought ... you told me-"

"I've never told you much of anything," he said curtly. "I let you a.s.sume. It was better that way. It was necessary."

For a moment she sat quietly, trying to sort out her thoughts. "Nicholas, I don't understand. Are you tel ing me you're a policeman?" He laughed at the thought, and part of his anger drained. "No, Aphrodite, spare me that."

Morgan frowned. "A spy then?"

The rest of his anger vanished. He cupped her face in his hands. She was so unbearably sweet. "You wil romanticize it, Morgan, I'm a man who travels and fol ows orders. Be content with that, it's al I can give you."

"That first night on the beach ..." At last the puzzle pieces were taking a shape she could understand. "You were watching for the man who runs the smuggling ring.

That was who Stephanos fol owed."

Nick frowned and dropped his hands. She believed him without question or hesitation. Already she'd forgotten that he'd kil ed-and worse. Why, when she was making it so easy for him did he find it so hard to go on? "I had to get you out of the way. I knew he'd cross that section of beach on his way to Stevos's cottage.