Jane Porter – Rumours: The Dishonoured Copelands: The Fallen Greek Bride (The Disgraced Copelands) / His Defiant Desert Queen (The Disgraced Copelands) / Her Sinful Secret (The Disgraced Copelands) (страница 17)

“No, I didn’t have you. That was the problem.”

“What do you mean?”

Morgan laughed coolly. “You came home to dinner, a bed and sex, but you didn’t come home to me, because if you had, you would have talked to me, and tried to speak Greek to me, and you would have helped me meet people, instead of getting annoyed with me for caring what Greek women thought of me.”

He swore violently and got up from the table, pacing the floor once before turning to look at her. “I can’t believe this is why you left me. I can’t believe you’d walk out on me, and our marriage, because I’m not one for conversation. I’ve never been a big talker, but coming home to you was my favorite part of the day. It’s what I looked forward to all day long, from the moment I left for my office.”

She swallowed around the lump filling her throat. “And yet when Bronwyn called you at home, you’d talk to her for hours.”

“Not for hours.”

“For thirty minutes at a time. Over and over every night.”

“We had business to discuss.”

“And could nothing wait until the morning? Was everything really a crisis? Or could she just not make a decision without you?”

“Is that why you left me? Because of Bronwyn?”

Yes, she wanted to say. Yes, yes, yes. But in her heart she knew Bronwyn Harper was only part of the issue. Drakon’s close relationship with his Australian vice president only emphasized how lonely and empty Morgan felt with him. “Bronwyn’s constant presence in our lives didn’t help matters. Every time I turned around, she was there, and you did talk to her, whereas you didn’t talk to me.”

The fight abruptly left her, and once her anger deserted her, she was exhausted and flattened, depressed by a specter of what they had been, and the illusion of what she’d hoped they’d be. “But it’s a moot point now. It doesn’t matter—” She broke off. “My God! You’re doing it now. Rolling your eyes! Looking utterly bored and annoyed.”

“I’m frustrated, Morgan, and yes, I do find this entire conversation annoying because you’re putting words in my mouth, telling me how I felt, and I’m telling you I didn’t feel that way when we were married.”

“Don’t you remember telling me repeatedly that you had people—women—talking at you at work, and that you didn’t need me talking at you at home? Don’t you remember telling me, you preferred silence—”

“I remember telling you that once, because I did come home one day needing quiet, and I wanted you to know it wasn’t personal, and that I wasn’t upset with you, that it had simply been a long day with a lot of people talking at me.” He walked toward her, his gaze hard, his expression forbidding. “And instead of you being understanding, you went into hysterics, crying and raging—”

“I wasn’t hysterical.”

“You had no right to be upset, though.” He was standing before her now. “I’d just lost two members of my crew from a hijacked ship and I’d had to tell the families that their loved ones were gone and it was a bad, bad day. A truly awful day.”

“Then tell me next time that something horrific has happened, and I’ll understand, but don’t just disappear into your office and give me the silent treatment.”

“I shouldn’t have to talk if I don’t want to talk.”

“I was your wife. If something important happens in your world, I’d like to know.”

“It’s not as if you could do anything.”

“But I could care, Drakon, and I would at least know what’s happening in your life and I could grieve for the families of your crew, too, because I would have grieved, and I would have wanted to comfort you—”

“I don’t need comforting.”

“Clearly.” Hot, sharp emotions rushed through her, one after the other, and she gave her head a fierce, decisive shake. “Just as you clearly didn’t need me, either, because you don’t need anything, Drakon Xanthis. You’re perfect and complete just the way you are!”

She brushed past him and walked out, not quickly, or tearfully, but resolutely, reassured all over again that she had done the right thing in leaving him. He really didn’t want a wife, or a partner, someone that was equal and valuable. He only wanted a woman for physical release. In his mind, that was all a woman was good for, and thank God she’d left when she had or he would have destroyed her completely.

Drakon caught up with her in the narrow stairway at the back of the villa. It had once been the staircase for the servants and was quite simple with plain plaster walls and steep, small stairs, but it saved Morgan traversing the long hallway.

He clasped her elbow, stopping her midstep. “You are so very good at running away, Morgan.”

She shook him off and turned to face him. He was standing two steps down but that still put them on eye level and she stared into his eyes, so very full of anger and pain. “And you are so good at shutting people out!”

“I don’t need to report to you, Morgan. You are my wife, not my colleague.”

“And funny enough, I would rather have been your colleague than your wife. At least you would have talked to me!”

“But then there would have been no lovemaking.”

“Perhaps it will surprise you to know that I’m actually far more interested in what’s in your brain than what’s in your trousers.” She saw his incredulous expression and drew a ragged breath, horrified all over again that their entire relationship had been based on sex and chemistry. Horrified that she’d married a man who only wanted her for her body. “It’s true. Lovemaking is empty without friendship, and we had no friendship, Drakon. We just had sex—”

“Not this again!”

“Yes, this again.”

“You’re being absurd.”

“Thank God we’ll both soon be free so we can find someone that suits us both better. You can go get another pretty girl and give her an orgasm once or twice a day and feel like a real man, and I’ll find a man who has warmth and compassion, a man who cares about what I think and feel, a man who wants to know me, and not just my body!”

He came up one step, and then another until they were on the same narrow stair, crowding her so that her back was against the plaster of the stairwell, and his big body was almost touching hers.

A dangerous light shone in his eyes, making her blood hum in her veins and her nerves dance. “Is that all I’m interested in? Your body?” he growled, a small muscle popping in his jaw.

She stared at his jaw, fascinated by that telling display of temper. He was angry and this was all so new … his temper and emotion. She’d always thought of him as supremely controlled but his tension was palpable now. He practically seethed with frustration and it made her skin tingle, particularly her lips, which suddenly felt unbearably sensitive. “Apparently so.”

He stepped even closer, his eyes glittering down at her. “I wish I’d known that before I married you. It would have saved me half a billion dollars, never mind years of trouble.”

“We all make mistakes,” she taunted, deliberately provoking him, but unable to help herself. Drakon Xanthis’s famous icy control was cracking and she wondered what would happen when it shattered completely. “Best thing you can do now is forgive yourself for making such a dreadful mistake and move forward.”

Fire flashed in his eyes and he leaned in, closing the gap between them so that his broad chest just grazed the swell of her breasts and she could feel the tantalizing heat of his hips so close to hers.

“Such an interesting way to view things,” he said, his head dropping, his voice deepening. “With you as my mistake.”

His lips were so close now and her lower back tingled and her belly tightened, and desire coursed through her veins, making her ache everywhere.

She could feel his need, feel the desire and her mouth dried, her heart hammering harder. He was going to kiss her. And she wanted the kiss, craved his kiss, even as a little voice of reason inside her head sounded the alarm….

Stop. Wait. Think.

She had to remember … remember the past … remember what had happened last time … this wasn’t just a kiss, but an inferno. If she gave in to this kiss, it’d be all over. Drakon was so dangerous for her. He did something to her. He, like his name, Drakon, Greek for dragon, was powerful and potent and destructive.

But he was also beautiful and physical and sensual and he made her feel. My God, he made her feel and she wanted that intensity now. Wanted him now.

“My beautiful, expensive mistake,” he murmured, his lips brushing across the shell of her ear, making her breath catch in her throat and sending hot darts of delicious sensation throughout her body, making her aware of every sensitive spot.

“Next time, don’t marry the girl,” she said, trying to sound brazen and cavalier, but failing miserably as just then he pushed his thigh between her legs. The heat of his hard body scalded her, and the unexpected pressure and pleasure was so intense she gasped, making her head spin.

“Would you have been happier just being my mistress?” he asked, his tongue tracing the curve of her ear even as his muscular thigh pressed up, his knee against her core, teasing her senses, making her shiver with need.

She was wet and hot, too hot, and her skin felt too tight. She wanted relief, needed relief, and it didn’t help that she couldn’t catch her breath. She was breathing shallowly, her chest rising and falling while her mouth dried.