The Right Path Part 17

Rising, he helped Morgan to her feet. She exchanged a formal and involved good-night with the proprietor before Andrew could navigate her away from the crowd.

Those not gathered in the kafenion were long since in bed. The white houses were closed and settled for the night. Now and then a dog barked, and another answered. Morgan could hear her own footsteps echo down the street.

"It's so quiet," she murmured. "Al you can real y hear is the water and the night itself. Ever since that first morning when I woke up on Lesbos, I've felt as if I belonged. Nothing that's happened since has spoiled that for me. Andrew." She whirled herself around in his arms and laughed. "I don't believe I'm ever going home again. How can I face New York and the traffic and the snow again? Rus.h.i.+ng to work, rus.h.i.+ng home. Maybe I'l become a fisherman, or give in to Liz and marry a goatherd."

"I don't think you should marry a goatherd," Andrew said practical y, and drew her closer. Her scent was tangling his senses. Her face, in the moonlight, was an ageless mystery. "Why don't you give the fis.h.i.+ng a try? We could set up housekeeping in Nick's cottage."

It would serve him right, her mind muttered. Lifting her mouth, Morgan waited for the kiss.

It was warm and complete. Morgan neither knew nor cared if the glow was a result of the kiss or the liquor. Andrew's lips weren't demanding, weren't urgent and possessive. They were comforting, requesting. She gave him what she could.

There was no rocketing pa.s.sion-but she told herself she didn't want it. Pa.s.sion clouded the mind more successful y than an ocean of ouzo. She'd had enough of hunger and pa.s.sions.

They brought pain with disil usionment. Andrew was kind, uncomplicated. He wouldn't turn away when she needed him.

He wouldn't give her sleepless nights. He wouldn't make her doubt her own strict code of right and wrong. He was the knight-a woman was safe with a knight.

"Morgan," he murmured, then rested his cheek on her hair. "You're exquisite. Isn't there some man I should consider dueling with?"

Morgan tried to think of Jack, but could form no clear picture. There was, however, a sudden, atrociously sharp image of Nick as he dragged her close for one of his draining kisses. "No," she said too emphatical y. "There's no one. Absolutely no one."

Andrew drew her away and tilted her chin with his finger. He could see her eyes in the dim glow of moonlight. "From the strength of your denial, I'd say my compet.i.tion's pretty formidable. No"-he laid a finger over her lips as she started to protest-"I don't want to have my suspicions confirmed tonight. I'm selfish."

He kissed her again, lingering over it. "d.a.m.n it, Morgan, you could be habit forming. I'd better take you home while I remember I'm a gentleman and you're a very drunk lady."

The vil a s.h.i.+mmered white under the night sky. A pale light glowed in a first-floor window for her return.

"Everyone's asleep," Morgan stated unnecessarily as she let herself out of the car.

Andrew rounded the hood. "I'l have to be very quiet." She m.u.f.fled irrepressible giggles with a hand over her mouth. "Oh, I'm going to feel like an idiot tomorrow if I remember any of this."

"I don't think you'l remember too much," Andrew told her as he took her arm.

Morgan managed the stairs with the careful dignity of someone who no longer feels the ground under her feet. "It would never do to disgrace Alex by landing on my face in the foyer. He and Dorian are so dignified."

"And I," Andrew returned, "wil have to resume my drive with the utmost caution.

Nick wouldn't approve if I ran his Fiat off a cliff." "Why, Andrew." Morgan stood back and studied him owlishly. "You're almost as sloshed as I am."

"Not quite, but close enough. However"-he let out a long breath and wished he could lie down-"I conducted myself with the utmost restraint."

"Very nicely done." She went off into a m.u.f.fled peal of giggles again. "Oh, Andrew." She leaned against him so heavily that he had to s.h.i.+ft his balance to support her. "I did have a good time-a wonderful time. I needed it more than I realized. Thank you."

"In you go." He opened the door and gave her a nudge inside. "Be careful on the stairs," he whispered. "Should I wait and listen for the sounds of an undignified tumble?"

"Just be on your way and don't take the Fiat for a swim." She stood on her toes and managed to brush his chin with her lips. "Maybe I should make you some coffee."

"You'd never find the kitchen. Don't worry, I can always park the car and walk if worse comes to worse. Go to bed, Morgan, you're weaving." "That's you," she retorted before she closed the door.

Morgan took the stairs with painful caution. The last thing she wanted to do was wake someone up and have to carry on any sort of reasonable conversation. She stopped once and pressed her hands to her mouth to stop a fresh bout of giggles.

Oh, it felt so good, so good not to be able to think.

But this has to stop, she told herself firmly. No more of this, Morgan, straighten up and get upstairs before al is discovered.

She managed to pul herself to the top landing, then had to think careful y to remember in which direction her room lay. To the left, of course, she told herself with a shake of the head. But which way is left, for G.o.d's sake? She spent another moment working it out before she crept down the hal . She gripped the doork.n.o.b, then waited for the door to stop swaying before she pushed it open.

"Ah, success," she murmured, then nearly spoiled it by stumbling over the rug.

Quietly, she shut the door and leaned back against it. Now, if she could just find the bed. A light switched on, as if by magic. She smiled absently at Nick.

"Yiasou, you seem to be a permanent fixture."

The fury in his eyes rol ed off the fog as she stepped unsteadily out of her shoes.

"What the hel have you been up to?" he demanded. "It's nearly three o'clock in the morning!" "Oh, how rude of me not to have phoned to tel you I'd be late."

"Don't get cute, d.a.m.n it, I'm not in the mood." He stalked over to her and grabbed her arms. "I've been waiting for you half the night, Morgan, I ..." His voice trailed off as he studied her. His expression altered from fury to consideration then reluctant amus.e.m.e.nt. "You're total y bombed."

"Completely," she agreed, and had to take a deep breath to keep from giggling again. "You're so observant, Nicholas."

Amus.e.m.e.nt faded as her hand crept up his s.h.i.+rt front. "How the hel am I supposed to have a rational conversation with a woman who's seeing two of everything?"

"Three," she told him with some pride. "Andrew's only up to two. I quite surpa.s.sed him." Her other hand slid up to toy with one of his b.u.t.tons. "Did you know you have wonderful eyes. I've never seen eyes so dark. Andrew's are blue.

He doesn't kiss anything like you do. Why don't you kiss me now?"

He tightened his grip for a moment, then careful y released her. "So, you've been out with young Andrew." He wandered the room while Morgan swayed and watched him.

"Young Andrew and I would have asked you to join us, but it just slipped our minds. Besides, you can be real y boring when you're proper and charming."

She had a great deal of trouble with the last word and yawned over it. "Do we have to talk much longer? My tongue's getting thick."

"I've had about enough of being proper and charming myself," he muttered, picking up a bottle of her scent and setting it down again. "It serves its purpose."

"You do it very wel ," she told him and struggled with her zipper. "In fact, you're nearly perfect at it."

"Nearly?" His attention caught, he turned in time to see her win the battle with the zipper. "Morgan, for G.o.d's sake, don't do that now. I-"

"Yes, except you do slip up from time to time. A look in your eyes-the way you move. I suppose it's convincing al around if I'm the only one who's noticed.

Then again, it might be because everyone else knows you and expects the inconsistency. Are you going to kiss me or not?" She dropped the dress to the floor and stepped out of it.

He felt his mouth go dry as she stood, clad only in a flimsy chemise, watching him mistily. Desire thudded inside him, hot, strong, and he forced himself back to what she was saying.

"Noticed what?"

Morgan made two attempts to pick up the dress. Each time she bent, the top of the chemise drifted out to show the swel of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Nick felt the thud lower to his stomach. "Noticed what?" she repeated as she left the dress where it was. "Oh, we're back to that. It's definitely the way you move."

"Move?" He struggled to keep his eyes on her face and away from her body. But her scent was already clouding his brain, and her smile-her smile chal enged him to do something about it.

"It's like a panther," Morgan told him, "who knows he's being hunted and plans to turn the attack to his advantage when he's ready." "I see." He frowned, not certain he liked her a.n.a.logy. "I'l have to be more careful."

"Your problem," Morgan said cheerful y. "Wel , since you don't want to kiss me, I'l say good-night, Nicholas. I'm going to bed. I'd see you down your vine, but I'm afraid I'd fal off the balcony."

"Morgan, I need to talk to you." He moved quickly and took her arm before she could sink onto the bed. That, he knew, would be too much pressure for any man.

But she lost her already uncertain balance and tumbled into his arms. Warm and pliant, she leaned against him, making no objection as he molded her closer.

"Have you changed your mind?" she murmured, giving him a slow, sleepy-eyed smile. "I thought of you when Andrew kissed me tonight. It was very rude of me-or of you, I'm not sure which. Perhaps I'l think of Andrew if you kiss me now."

"The hel you wil ." He dragged her against him, teetering on the edge. Morgan let her head fal back. "Try me," she invited.

"Morgan-the hel with al of it!"

Helplessly, he devoured her mouth. She was quickly and total y boneless, arousing him to desperation by simple surrender. Desire was a fire inside him, spreading dangerously.

For the first time, he let himself go. He could think of nothing, nothing but her and the way her body flowed in his hands. She was softer than anything he'd ever hoped to know. So soft, she threatened to seep into him, become a part of him before he could do anything to prevent it. The need was raging, overpowering, taking over the control he'd been master of for as long as he could remember. But now, he burned to forfeit it.