The Right Path Part 31

"The cigarette." Morgan sat up, pus.h.i.+ng at her tumbled hair. "The stub of the cigarette near the body." He lifted a brow, but found himself distracted by the firm white b.r.e.a.s.t.s easily within reach. "So?"

"It was fresh, from one of those expensive brands like you're smoking." She let out an impatient breath. "I should have told you before, but it hardly makes any difference at this point. You already know who kil ed Stevos-who runs the smuggling."

"I never told you I did."

"You didn't have to." Annoyed with herself, Morgan frowned and missed Nick's considering look. "Why didn't I?"

"You'd have told me if you hadn't seen his face. When you wouldn't answer me at al , I knew you had."

He shook his head as a reluctant smile touched his lips. "Diabolos, it's a good thing I didn't cross you earlier in my career. I'm afraid it would have been over quickly. As it happens," he added, "I saw the cigarette myself."

"I should have known you would," she muttered. "I can a.s.sure you Tripolos didn't miss it either."

"That d.a.m.n cigarette has driven me to distraction." Morgan gave an exasperated sigh. "There were moments I suspected everyone I knew- Dorian, Alex, Iona, even Liz and Andrew. I nearly made myself sick over it."

"You don't name me." Nick studied the cigarette in his hand. "No, I already told you why." "Yes," he murmured, "with an odd sort of compliment I haven't forgotten. I should have eased your mind sooner, Morgan, about what I do. You might have slept better."

Leaning over, she kissed him. "Stop worrying about my sleep. I'm going to start thinking I look like a tired hag." He slid a hand behind her neck to keep her close.

"Wil you rest if I tel you that you do?"

"No, but I'l hit you."

"Ah, then I'l lie and tel you you're exquisite." She hit him anyway, a quick jab in the ribs.

"So, now you want to play rough." Crus.h.i.+ng out his cigarette, Nick rol ed her beneath him. She struggled for a moment, then eyed him narrowly. "Do you know how many times you've pinned me down like this?" Morgan demanded.

"No, how many?"

"I'm not sure." Her smile spread slowly. "I think I'm beginning to like it."

"Perhaps I can make you like it better." He m.u.f.fled her laugh with his lips.

He didn't love her gently now, but fiercely. As desperate as he, Morgan let the pa.s.sion rule her. Fear that it might be the last time caused her response and demands to be urgent. She lit a fire in him.

Now, where his hands had trailed slowly, they raced. Where his mouth had whispered, it savaged. Morgan threw herself into the flames without a second thought. Her mouth was greedy, searching for his taste everywhere while her hands rushed to touch and arouse.

Her body had never felt so agile. It could melt into his one moment, then slither away to drive him to madness. She could hear his desire in the short, harsh breath, feel it in the tensing and quivering of his muscles as she roamed over them, taste it in the dampness that sheened his skin. It matched her own, and again they were in harmony.

She arched against him as his mouth rushed low-but it was more a demand than an invitation. Delirious with her own strength and power, Morgan dug her fingers into his hair and urged him to take her to that first giddy peak. Even as she cried out with it, she hungered for more. And he gave more, while he took.

But she wasn't satisfied with her own pleasure. Ruthlessly she sought to undermine whatever claim he stil held to sanity. Her hands had never been so clever, or so quick. Her teeth nipped at his skin before she soothed the tiny pains with a flick of her tongue. She heard him groan and a low, sultry laugh flowed from her. His breath caught when she reached him, then came out in an oath.

Morgan felt the sunlight explode into fragments as he plunged into her.

Later, much later, when he knew his time with her was nearly up, Nick kissed her with lingering tenderness. "You're going," Morgan said, struggling not to cling to him. "Soon. I'l have to take you back to the vil a in a little while." Sitting up, he drew her with him. "You'l stay inside. Lock the doors, tel the servants to let no one in.

No one."

Morgan tried to promise, and found she couldn't form the words. "When you're finished, you'l come?" Smiling, he tucked her hair behind her ear. "I suppose I can handle your window vines again."

"I'l wait up for you and let you in the front door."

"Aphrodite." Nick pressed a kiss to her wrist. "Where's your romance?"

"Oh, G.o.d!" Morgan threw her arms around his neck and clung. "I wasn't going to say it-I promised myself I wouldn't. Be careful." Biting back tears, she pressed her face against his throat. "Please, please be careful. I'm terrified for you."

"No, don't." Feeling the dampness against his skin, he held her tighter. "Don't cry for me." "I'm sorry." With a desperate effort, she forced back the tears. "I'm not helping you."

Nick drew her away and looked at the damp cheeks and s.h.i.+mmering eyes. "Don't ask me not to go, Morgan." "No." She swal owed again. "I won't. Don't ask me not to worry."

"It's the last time," he said fiercely.

The words made her shudder, but she kept her eyes on his. "Yes, I know." "Just wait for me." He pul ed her back against him. "Wait for me." "With a bottle of Alex's best champagne," she promised in a stronger voice.

He pressed a kiss to her temple. "We'l have some of mine now, before I take you back. A toast," he told her as he drew her away again. "To tomorrow."

"Yes." She smiled. It almost reached her eyes. "I'l drink with you to tomorrow."

"Rest a moment." With another kiss, he laid her back against the pil ow. "I'l go bring some up." Morgan waited until the door had closed behind him before she buried her face in the pilow.

Chapter Thirteen

It was dark when she woke. Contused, disoriented, Morgan struggled to see where she was.

The room was al s.h.i.+fting shadows and silence. There was a cover over her-something soft and light with a fringe of silk. Beneath it, she was warm and naked.

Nicholas, she thought in quick panic. She'd fal en asleep and he'd gone. On a moan, she sat up, drawing her knees to her chest. How could she have wasted those last precious moments together? How long? she thought abruptly. How long had he been gone? With trembling fingers, she reached for the lamp beside the bed.

The light eased some of her fears, but before she could climb out of bed to find a clock, she saw the note propped against the lamp. Taking it, Morgan studied the bold, strong writing. Go back to sleep was al it said.

How like him, she thought, and nearly laughed. Morgan kept the note in her hand, as if to keep Nick close, as she rose to look for her clothes. I t didn't take her long to discover they were gone.

"The louse!" Morgan said aloud, forgetting the tender thoughts she had only moments before.

So, he wasn't taking any chances making certain she stayed put. Naked, hands on her hips, she scowled around the room. Where the devil does he think I'd go? she asked herself. I have no way of knowing where he is ... or what he's doing, she thought on a fresh flood of worry.

Wait. Suddenly cold, Morgan pul ed the cover from the bed and wrapped herself in it. Al I can do is wait.

The time dripped by, minute by endless minute. She paced, then forced herself to sit, then paced again. It would be morning in only a few more hours, she told herself. In the morning, the wait would be over. For al of them.

She couldn't bear it, she thought in despair one moment. She had to bear it, she told herself the next. Would he never get back? Would morning never come? On a sound of fury, she tossed the cover aside. She might have to wait, Morgan thought grimly as she marched to Nick's closet. But she'd be d.a.m.ned if she'd wait naked.

Nick s.h.i.+fted the muscles in his shoulders and blocked out the need for a cigarette. Even the smal light would be dangerous now. The cove was bathed in milky moonlight and silence.

There would be a murmur now and then from behind a rock. Not from a spirit, but from a man in uniform. The cove stil held secrets. Lifting his binoculars, Nick again scanned the sea.

"Any sign?" Tripolos seemed remarkably comfortable in his squat position behind a rock. He popped a tiny mint into his mouth and crunched quietly. Nick merely shook his head and handed the gla.s.ses to Stephanos.

"Thirty minutes," Stephanos stated, chewing on the stem of his dead pipe. "The wind carries the sound of the motor." "I hear nothing." Tripolos gave the old man a doubtful frown. Nick chuckled as the familiar feeling of excitement rose. "Stephanos hears what others don't.

Just tel your men to be ready." "My men are ready." His gaze flicked over Nick's profile.

"You enjoy your work, Mr. Gregoras."

"At times," Nick muttered, then grinned. "This time, by G.o.d." "And soon it's over,"

Stephanos said from beside him.

Nick turned his head to meet the old man's eyes. He knew the statement covered more than this one job, but the whole of what had been Nick's career.

He hadn't told him, but Stephanos knew. "Yes," he said simply, then turned his eyes to the sea again.

He thought of Morgan and hoped she was stil asleep. She'd looked so beautiful-and so exhausted when he'd come back into the room. Her cheeks had been damp. d.a.m.n, he couldn't bear the thought of her tears. But he'd felt a wave of relief that she'd been asleep. He didn't have to see her eyes when he left her.

She's safer there than if I'd taken her back, Nick told himself. With luck, she'd stil be asleep when he got back and then he'd have spared her hours of worry. Stas.h.i.+ng her clothes had been an impulse that had eased his mind. Even Morgan wouldn't go wandering around without a st.i.tch on her back.

His grin flashed again. If she woke and looked for them, she'd curse him. The idea gave him a moment's pleasure. He could see her, standing in the center of his room with only the moonlight covering her as she raged.

He felt the low aching need in the pit of his stomach, and promised himself he'd keep her just that way-naked fire-until the sun went down again. Lifting the binoculars, he scanned the dark sea. "They're coming."

The moon threw the boat into silhouette. A dozen men watched her approach from clumps of rock and shadows. She came in silence, under the power of oars. She was secured with little conversation and a few deft movements of rope. There was a scent Nick recognized. The scent of fear. A fresh bubble of excitement rose, though his face was deadly calm. He's there, Nick thought. And we have him.