by Jane Porter
Morgan didn’t even need to ask who “she” was, knowing perfectly well it was Bronwyn. “Now?”
“She’s leaving soon. Tonight.”
“Surely she can wait a half hour?”
He didn’t answer immediately, simply rolled away, his towel falling off in the process. “I won’t be long.”
“You really have to go now?”
“I’ll be back in less than fifteen minutes.”
Morgan watched him walk, without a stitch of clothing, to the closet. Dressed, Drakon Xanthis was a handsome, sophisticated man. Naked, he was absolutely beautiful.
He was beautiful now, and her mouth dried, her heart hurting as he disappeared into the closet, his body tan, skin gleaming, his muscles taut. Honed. He had those big shoulders and broad chest and lean flat abs and long strong legs, and between those legs hung his thick shaft, impressive even now, when he wasn’t erect.
As the closet light came on, Morgan felt a surge of jealousy, hating that Drakon and his beautiful, hard, honed body was leaving her to go meet Bronwyn.
When he emerged a few minutes later, buckling the belt on his trousers, buttoning his shirt and tucking it into the waistband, Morgan felt almost sick.
Suddenly she felt like the young bride she’d been five years ago…uncertain, insecure, overwhelmed by her new life as Drakon Xanthis’s American bride.
Drakon must have seen her fear because his brow furrowed as he gazed down at her. “There’s no need to be threatened by Bronwyn. She works for me, but you’re my wife.”
But she’d been his wife before, and it hadn’t helped her feel secure, or close to him. And while she’d been home alone for twelve, fourteen, sometimes sixteen hours a day, he’d been at the office with Bronwyn. Even if there was nothing sexual between him and Bronwyn, by virtue of being his trusted right hand, Bronwyn still got to spend time with Drakon…time Morgan would love to have. Not because Morgan couldn’t be alone and needed Drakon to prop her up, but because she loved Drakon and enjoyed his company more than anyone else.
“I just don’t want to feel as if I have to fight Bronwyn for you anymore,” she said quietly, calmly, grateful that her voice could sound so steady when her heart was racing so fast.
“But you don’t have to fight Bron for me. You never have.”
And while this conversation was brutal, it was also necessary and long overdue. They should have talked about Bronwyn years ago. Morgan should have told Drakon how uncomfortable she was around her when they first married, but she hadn’t, too afraid of displeasing him. And so the wound had festered, and her fear grew, until their entire relationship had become stunted and toxic.
“You love me?” she whispered.
“How can you doubt it?”
She bit down into her lip, holding back her fears, and her need to be reassured, knowing that her fears were irrational. Drakon wouldn’t be here, helping her, if he didn’t want to be. Drakon wouldn’t have brought in Rowan to rescue her father if he didn’t care about her. It was time she stopped panicking and stopped allowing her insecurities to get the upper hand. Drakon loved her. Drakon had always loved her. But he wasn’t a woman…he was a man, a Greek man that had been raised to conceal vulnerabilities and avoid emotion. “I don’t doubt it,” she whispered. “I know you love me. Without question.”
“There is no competition between you and Bron,” he said roughly, his handsome, chiseled features hard.
She nodded, wanting to believe it, needing to believe it, but as he’d told her once, actions spoke louder than words. If he stayed at his office night after night until ten, making decisions, talking with Bronwyn, how was Morgan supposed to feel?
She felt a twinge of panic at the idea of returning to that life, but she had to be strong and confident. She believed in Drakon, and she had to believe that Drakon would do what was right for her…for them.
“Promise me you’re not threatened by her,” he said, stalking closer to her, forcing her to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.
“Promise me you won’t be upset if I have to work long days, and late into the night, with her,” he added.
Morgan’s mouth opened, closed. She wanted to tell him she’d be fine, and she would try to be fine with it, but she couldn’t promise him she’d be perfectly comfortable. She didn’t know any woman who’d be perfectly comfortable with her husband being alone with a gorgeous woman night after night…day after day. Working in such close proximity created an intimacy that could lead to other things…and Morgan was sure Bronwyn did have feelings for Drakon. In fact, Morgan was sure Bronwyn was the problem here, not Drakon, but how could she tell him that?
She couldn’t. But she also couldn’t lie. And so with her heart racing, she swallowed convulsively. “I’m here for the long haul, Drakon. I’m here to stay. I’m playing for keeps.”
His amber gaze drilled into her. “Playing for keeps,” he repeated softly.
She licked her dry lips. “Yes.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
“It’s whatever you want it to be.”
He laughed once, the mocking sound such a contrast to the sudden fire in his eyes. And then he was gone, walking out, leaving the door wide open behind him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HE WASN’T GONE just a few minutes. He was gone a long time, over an hour, and Morgan returned to her room, wondering if she should dress for dinner, or if dinner would even be served tonight as it was growing late, well past the time they normally gathered in the living room for aperitivos.
Morgan eventually did change and go downstairs. Rowan was in the living room, having a drink.
“Can I pour you something?” he offered as she entered the candle lit living room.
“The Campari,” she said, even as she tried to listen to the house, trying to hear where Drakon and Bronwyn might be.
Rowan filled her glass, handed her the cocktail. “They’re outside,” he said. “Or they were.”
She sipped the cocktail. Campari and orange. It was tart and sweet at the same time. “Why do you say, ‘were’?”
“A car arrived a half hour ago, and it just pulled away a few minutes ago.” Rowan turned, nodded at the hall. “And here he is. Drakon Xanthis in the flesh.” Rowan raised his glass. “I’ve a few calls to make. I’ll have more privacy elsewhere. Cheers.” And then Rowan walked out, leaving Drakon and Morgan alone.
Drakon walked past Morgan without saying a word, going to the bar where he made himself a drink. Morgan watched him, wondering what had happened between him and Bronwyn.
Drakon carried his drink to the window, where he sipped it and stared out at the dark sky.
“She’s gone,” he said at last. “Back to Athens.”
Morgan looked at his rigid back, and the set of his shoulders. “Did something happen?” she asked quietly.
“I let her go.”
“What?”
“I let her go. Fired her. Terminated her employment. Whatever you want to call it.”
“Why?”
“I watched her here, how she behaved around you, and I didn’t like it. She has worked for me for a long time—eight years—and she was good at what she did, but I won’t have any woman snubbing you, not anymore. I won’t look the other way, especially if it’s my employee, or a friend of mine. It’s not acceptable, and you shouldn’t have to endure slights and snubs…not from anyone.”
Morgan heard what he was saying and appreciated everything he was saying, but there was something else happening here. Drakon was upset…angry…but Morgan didn’t understand who he was upset with—Bronwyn, himself, or Morgan.
“You didn’t have to fire her because of me,” Morgan said, choosing her words carefully. “I meant it when I said, I was sticking around. I’m not going to let anyone scare me away. I’m not twenty-two anymore. I’m twenty-seven and I know a lot more about the world now, and a lot more about myself.”
He sipped his cocktail. “I agree you’ve changed, but I’ve also change
d, and Bronwyn has, too. There was a time I needed her—and she saved me, I owe her a lot, if not everything—but that was four years ago, and things are different and it’s time for her to move on. It’ll be better for her.”
Morgan’s inside flipped nervously. “How did she save you?”
He took another long drink from his crystal tumbler and then looked over his shoulder at Morgan. “If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have a company. I wouldn’t have this villa. I wouldn’t have anything.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t.” He sighed, shrugged, took another quick drink before continuing. “I would prefer you didn’t know, and I’d promised Bron years ago I wouldn’t tell you, she didn’t want me to tell you. She said you wouldn’t like it…you wouldn’t respect me…but that’s a risk I’ll have to take.”
Morgan sat down in one of the chairs. “Please tell me.”
He walked the length of the room, and it was a long room, before dropping into a chair not far from hers. “A number of years ago, I made a mistake. Normally it wouldn’t be an issue, but with the situation being what it was, the mistake was serious. It nearly bankrupted me.”
He closed his eyes, shook his head, then opened them again and looked at her. “I was close to losing everything. And I mean everything. The company. The ships. The contracts. Our offices. Our homes. The cars, planes, yachts…everything…” His voice faded and for a moment there was just silence, a heavy, suffocating silence that blanketed the room. “And the worst of it was, I didn’t care.”
Drakon was still looking at her, but he didn’t seem to see her. He seemed to be seeing something else, his expression tortured. “I didn’t care,” he repeated lowly, strangely detached.
Morgan had never heard him talk this way, or sound this way, and her heart thumped uncomfortably and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear more, but there was no way she would stop him from talking.
After a long, uneasy moment Drakon continued. “I wasn’t able to make good decisions during this time, and I didn’t do what I should have done to protect my company, my future, or my employees. I was willing to lose it all. But Bronwyn refused to just stand there, a witness, as my company and life imploded.”
“So she took over,” he continued. “She stepped into my empty shoes and vacant office and became me…became president and CEO and no one knew it was Bronwyn Harper forging my signature, shifting funds, slashing spending, liquidating assets.” Drakon’s gaze met Morgan’s. “Not all of her decisions were the right ones. Some of her actions had negative consequences, but if she hadn’t stepped in when she did, there would be nothing here today.”
It was hard for Morgan to hear Drakon speak of Bronwyn so reverently, because Morgan wished she’d been the one who had been there for Drakon when he needed someone. “I’m glad she helped you,” Morgan said huskily. “Glad she was able to help you, because I couldn’t have, even if I’d wanted to.”
He looked at her, amber gaze piercing. “So yes, she helped me, but she was never more than a valuable employee. She was never your rival. I never once wanted her. I have only wanted you.”
“Then why fire her? If she was such a help, and you feel so grateful—”
“She wanted more than what we had.” His mouth curved but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “She made it clear she wanted more, that she was in love with me, but I didn’t feel that way about her. I loved you, and only you, and Bronwyn knew that.”
“But she stuck around all these years…she stuck around because she had to hope she had a chance.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Probably. But she didn’t. If I couldn’t have you, there wouldn’t have been anyone else for me. It was you or nobody.”
Morgan exhaled slowly, her head spinning. “She must be heartbroken right now.”
“She’ll be fine. She’s strong. She’s smart. She’ll have a better life now, away from me.” Drakon drew Morgan into his arms and pressed a kiss to her temple, and then another to her cheekbone. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
“You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Rowan hasn’t found your father yet.”
“But he hasn’t given up.”
“No. And Rowan won’t, not until we find your father. There is no one better than Rowan and Dunamas. They will continue looking for your father, until he is found.”
“What if it takes weeks…months…years?”
“Doesn’t matter. I promise you, we will never forget him, and never give up.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THEY ATE DINNER, just the two of them, as Rowan was nowhere to be found, and then skipping coffee and dessert, they headed upstairs to Drakon’s room, where they made love, soundlessly, wordlessly, so quiet in the dark silent night.
Their lovemaking wasn’t fierce and hot, or carnal and raw, but slow, careful, tender, so tender that Morgan wept after she climaxed because she’d never felt this way with Drakon before, had never made love with him like this before, their bodies so close, so connected, they’d felt like one.
Afterward, they lay side by side, his body wrapped around hers, his muscular arm holding her close to him, and still they said nothing, because there were no words, at least not the right ones. So much had happened since they’d met. So much love and yet so much loss. So much anger and pain and heartbreak…
But words right now wouldn’t help, words would just get in the way, so they didn’t talk, but instead lay close, filled with emotion, intense emotion that surged and ached and trembled and twisted.
Lying there in the dark, wrapped in Drakon’s warmth and listening to him breathe, Morgan knew these things—she still loved him, deeply, passionately.
She also knew she wouldn’t leave him. Not ever again.
But for them to have a future, they would have to talk more, and they’d need patience, forgiveness, courage and strength.
She knew she was willing to fight for Drakon and her marriage, but there were still things she didn’t understand about Drakon, things she didn’t understand about the past.
And when, a half hour later, he kissed her shoulder but eased away to climb from the bed, she was filled with unease.
Turning over, she watched as he stepped into his cotton pajama pants, settling the drawstring waist low on his hips, leaving that magnificent torso bare. She watched him walk to the French door and push open the curtains. Propping an arm against the glass, he stared out at the sea, which rippled silver with moonlight.
She sat up and wrapped an arm around her knees, pressing the covers closer to her legs. “I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier, and how you feel so grateful to Bronwyn for saving your company…and saving you…when you made a mistake and nearly lost everything. But I know you. You don’t make mistakes. What mistake did you make, that could have possibly cost you your company?”
He said nothing right away and Morgan was afraid he wouldn’t speak, but then he shrugged. “I was distracted. Wasn’t focused on work. And suddenly there was no money. No money to pay anybody, no money for taxes, no money at all.”
“How could there be no money? Where did it go?”
Again, another long, excruciating silence. “Bad investments.”
Ice filled her veins and she flashed to her father, and Michael Amery. No…he wouldn’t…not a second time. She held her breath, even as her heart began to race. “You said…bad investments….plural.” Morgan swallowed around the lump of panic forming in her throat. “Did you mean, investments, plural, or was there just that one horrible, huge loss to my father?”
He was silent so long that bile rose up in her throat, and she knew, she knew, there was more. She knew something else had happened, something he’d never told her. “Drakon, agapo mou, please, please tell me.”
Drakon shifted his weight, muscles ripping across his shoulders and down his back, and then he turned toward her, the moonlight glancing briefly over his features until he’d turned his back to the window, with the l
ight behind him, shadowing his face again. “Your father came to me asking for help after you’d left me.”
Pain shot through her. Tears filled her eyes. “You gave him more money.”
Drakon’s lips compressed. “He was your father. He needed help.”
“How much did he ask for?”
“A billion.”
“Oh, my God.” She pressed her hand to her mouth. “Drakon, no. You didn’t…”
“What was I to do, Morgan? He was in trouble. I was his son-in-law, and I loved you. Family is family—”
“But I’d left you!”
“But I hadn’t left you.”
She ground her teeth together, tears blinding her, her stomach churning in bitter protest. “I can’t believe this.”
He laughed hollowly. “When your father came to me, telling me he was in trouble…that he had investors who needed their money back, but he didn’t have the liquidity to give them their money…I thought it was my chance to win you back. But I didn’t have that kind of money sitting in an account, no one has money like that, so I took loans from banks, as well as other resources, to come up with the money for your father.”
“And you didn’t get me back, did you?” she whispered.
For a minute there was just silence, and an almost unbearable pain, and then Drakon shook his head. “No. I gave him the money but Daniel refused to tell me where you were. Said that you’d contact me when you were ready.”
“And I couldn’t contact you, not at McLean.” She blinked to clear her eyes. “And then what happened?”
“The economy started crashing. My creditors and lenders began to call their loans. But there was no money to give them. There was nothing I could do but file for bankruptcy, and fold. And I was fine with that, because without you, I didn’t care.”
“You’re breaking my heart,” Morgan whispered.
“I was pathetic. Bron said you’d find me pathetic—”
“Pathetic? How could I find you, who sacrificed everything for me, pathetic?” She rose up on her knees. “You were a hero. You loved me. You fought for me. You were willing to sacrifice everything for me.”