The Right Path

  fully dressed.”

  Nick fastened the snap on his own. “The feeling was mutual.”

  Turning her head, she looked at him as he stood, naked to the waist, shaking what sand he could from his shirt. A gleam of mischief lit her eyes. “Oh?” Taking a step closer, Morgan ran her palms up his chest—taking her time—enjoying the hard, firm feel of it before she linked them around his neck. “Did it make you furious thinking I was wearing a token from a lover waiting for me back home?”

  “No,” he lied with a careless smile. Gripping his shirt in both hands, Nick hooked it around her waist to draw her closer. “Why should that concern me?”

  “Oh.” Morgan nipped lightly at his bottom lip. “Then perhaps you’d like to hear about Jack.”

  “I damn well wouldn’t,” he muttered before his mouth crushed down on hers. Even as her lips answered his, Nick heard the low sound of her muffled laughter. “Witch.” Then he took her deeper, deeper, until her laughter was only a sigh. “Maybe you prefer me when I’m angry.”

  “I prefer you,” she said simply, and rested her head on his shoulder.

  His arms tightened, strong, possessive. Yet somehow he knew strength alone would never keep her. “Dangerous woman,” Nick murmured. “I knew it the first time I held you.”

  With a laugh, Morgan tossed back her head. “The first time you held me, you cursed me.”

  “And I continue to do so.” But his lips sought hers again without an oath.

  “I wish there was only tonight.” Suddenly, she was clinging to him with her heart racing. “No tomorrows, only now. I don’t want the sun to come up.”

  Nick buried his face in her hair as the guilt swamped him. He’d brought her fear from the first instant. Even loving her, he could bring her nothing else. He had no right to tell her now that his heart was hers for the asking. Once he told her, she might beg him to abandon his responsibility, leave his job half finished. And he would do just as she asked, he realized . . . and never feel like a man again.

  “Don’t wish your days away, Morgan,” he told her lightly. “The sun comes up tomorrow, then goes down. And when it comes up again, we’ll have nothing but time.”

  She had to trust him, had to believe that he would be safe—that the danger he lived with would be over in little more than twenty-four hours.

  “Come back with me now.” Lifting her head again, Morgan gave him a smile. Her worry and fears wouldn’t help him. “Come back to the villa and make love with me again.”

  “You tempt me, Aphrodite.” Bending, he kissed both her cheeks in a gesture she found unbearably gentle and sweet. “But you’re asleep on your feet. There’ll be other nights. I’ll take you back.”

  She allowed him to turn her toward the beach steps. “You might not find it as easy to leave me there alone as you think,” she commented with another smile.

  With a quiet laugh, he drew her closer to his side. “Not easy perhaps, but—” His head whipped up abruptly, as if he were scenting the air. Narrowed and cold, his eyes swept the darkness of the cliffs above them.

  “Nicholas, what—”

  But his hand clamped over her mouth as he pulled her, once again, into the shadows of the cypress. Her heart leaped to her throat as it had before, but this time Morgan didn’t struggle.

  “Be still and don’t speak,” Nick whispered. Removing his hand, he pushed her back against the trunk of a tree. “Not a sound, Morgan.”

  She nodded, but he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were trained on the cliffs. Standing at the edge of the covering, Nick watched and waited. Then he heard it again—the quiet scrape of boot on rock. Tensing, he strained his eyes and at last saw the shadow. So, he thought with a grim smile as he watched the black form move swiftly over the rocks, he’s come for his cache. But you won’t find it, Nick told the shadow silently. And I’ll be like a hound on your tail.

  Soundlessly, he moved back to Morgan. “Go back to the villa and stay there.” All warmth had dropped away from him. His voice was as cold as his eyes.

  “What did you see?” she demanded. “What are you going to do?”

  “Do as I say.” Taking her arm, he pulled her toward the beach steps. “Go quickly, I haven’t got time to waste. I’ll lose him.”

  Him. Morgan felt a flutter of fear. She swallowed it. “I’m going with you.”

  “Don’t be a fool.” Impatient, Nick dragged her along. “Go back to the villa, I’ll speak to you in the morning.”

  “No.” Morgan pulled out of his hold. “I said I’m going with you. You can’t stop me.”

  She was standing straight as an arrow, eyes blazing with a combination of fear and determination. Nick swore at her, knowing every second he stayed meant his man was farther away. “I don’t have time—”

  “Then you’d better stop wasting it,” Morgan said calmly. “I’m coming.”

  “Then come,” he said under his breath as he turned away from her. She won’t last five minutes on the cliffs without shoes, he thought. She’d limp her way back to the villa in ten. He moved quickly up the beach steps without waiting for her. Gritting her teeth, Morgan raced after him.

  As he left the steps to start his scramble up the cliff, Nick paid little attention to her. He cast his eyes to the sky and wished the night were not so clear. A cloud over the moon would allow him to risk getting closer to the man he followed. He gripped a rock and hauled himself up farther—a few pebbles loosened and skidded down. When he glanced back, he was surprised to see Morgan keeping pace with him.

  Damn the woman, he thought with a twinge of reluctant admiration. Without a word, he held out his hand and pulled her up beside him. “Idiot,” he hissed, wanting to shake her and kiss her all at once. “Will you go back? You don’t have any shoes.”

  “Neither do you,” Morgan gritted.

  “Stubborn fool.”

  “Yes.”

  Cursing silently, Nick continued the climb. He couldn’t risk the open path in the moonlight, so kept to the rocks. Though it wouldn’t be possible to keep his quarry in sight, Nick knew where he was going.

  Morgan clamped her teeth shut as the ball of her foot scraped against a rock. With a quick hiss of breath, she kept going. She wasn’t going to whimper and be snapped at. She wasn’t going to let him go without her.

  On a rough ledge, Nick paused briefly to consider his options. Circling around would take time. If he’d been alone—and armed, he would have taken his chances with the narrow path now. Odds were that the man he followed was far enough ahead and confident enough to continue his journey without looking over his shoulder. But he wasn’t alone, he thought on a flare of annoyance. And he had no more than his hands to protect Morgan if they were spotted.

  “Listen to me,” he whispered, hoping to frighten her as he grabbed her by the shoulders. “The man’s killed—and killed more than once, I promise you. When he finds his cache isn’t where it should be, he’ll know he’s being hunted. Go back to the villa.”

  “Do you want me to call the police?” Morgan asked calmly, though he’d succeeded very well in frightening her.

  “No!” The word whipped out, no louder than a breath. “I can’t afford to give up the chance to see who he is.” Frustrated, he glared at her. “Morgan, I don’t have a weapon, if he—”

  “I’m not leaving you, Nicholas. You’re wasting time arguing about it.”

  He swore again, then slowly controlled his temper. “All right, damn you. But you’ll do exactly as I say or I promise you, I’ll knock you unconscious and shove you behind a rock.”

  She didn’t doubt it. Morgan lifted her chin. “Let’s go.”

  Agilely, Nick pulled himself over the ridge and onto the path. Before he could reach back to assist her, Morgan was kneeling on the hard ground beside him. He thought, as he looked into her eyes, that she was a woman men dreamed of. Strong, beautiful, loyal. Taking her hand, he dashed up the path, anxious to make up the time he’d wasted arguing with her. When he felt they’d been in th
e open long enough, he left the path for the rocks again.

  “You know where he’s going,” Morgan whispered, breathing quickly. “Where?”

  “A small cave near Stevos’s cottage. He thinks to pick up last night’s cache.” He grinned suddenly. Morgan heard it in his voice. “He won’t find it, and then, by God, he’ll sweat. Keep low now—no more talk.”

  She could see the beauty of the night clearly in the moonlight. The sky was velvet, pierced with stars, flooded by the moon. Even the thin, scruffy bushes working their way through rock held an ethereal allure. The sound of the sea rose from below them, soft with distance. An owl sent up a quiet hooting music of lazy contentment. Morgan thought, if she could look, she might find more blue-headed flowers. Then Nick was pulling her over the next ridge and pressing her to the ground.

  “It’s just up ahead. Stay here.”

  “No, I—”

  “Don’t argue,” he said roughly. “I can move faster without you. Don’t move and don’t make a sound.”

  Before she could speak, he was scrambling away, silently, half on his belly, half on his knees. Morgan watched him until he was concealed by another huddle of rocks. Then, for the first time since they had begun, she started to pray.

  Nick couldn’t move quickly now. If he had misjudged the timing, he’d find himself face-to-face with his quarry. He needed to save that pleasure for the following night. But to know—to know who he had been hounding for six months was a bonus Nick couldn’t resist.

  There were more rocks and a few trees for cover, and he used them as he skirted the dead man’s rough cottage. An attempt had been made to clear the ground for a vegetable garden, but the soil had never been worked. Nick wondered idly what had become of the woman who had sometimes shared Stevos’s bed and washed his shirts. Then he heard the quiet scrape of boot on rock again. Less than a hundred yards away, Nick estimated. Eyes gleaming in the darkness, he crept toward the mouth of the cave.

  He could hear the movements inside, quiet, confident. Slipping behind a rock, he waited, patient, listening. The furious oath that echoed inside the cave brought Nick a rich thrill of pleasure.

  Taste the betrayal, he told the man inside. And choke on it.

  The movements inside the cave became louder. Nick’s smile spread. He’d be searching now, Nick concluded. Looking for signs to tell him if his hiding place had been looted. But no, you haven’t been robbed, Nick thought. Your little white bags were lifted from right under your nose.

  He saw him then, striding out of the cave—all in black, still masked. Take it off, Nick ordered him silently. Take it off and let me see your face.

  The figure stood in the shadows of the mouth of the cave. Fury flowed from him in waves. His head turned from side to side as if he were searching for something . . . or someone.

  They heard the sound at the same instant. The shifting of pebbles underfoot, the rustling of bushes. Dear God, Morgan! Nick thought and half rose from his concealment. As he tensed, he saw the black-clad figure draw a gun and melt back into the shadows.

  With his heart beating in his throat, Nick gripped the rock and prepared to lunge. He could catch the man off-guard, he thought rapidly, gain enough time to shout a warning to Morgan so that she could get away. Fear licked at him—not for himself, but at the thought that she might not run fast enough.

  The bush directly across the path trembled with movement. Nick sucked in his breath to lunge.

  Bony, and with more greed than wit, a dusty goat stepped forward to find a more succulent branch.

  Nick sunk down behind the rock, furious that he was trembling. Though she had done nothing more than what he had told her, he cursed Morgan fiercely.

  With a furious oath, the man in black stuck the gun back in his belt as he strode down the path. As he passed Nick, he whipped off his mask.

  Nick saw the face, the eyes, and knew.

  Morgan huddled behind the rock where Nick had shoved her, her arms wrapped around her knees. It seemed she’d already waited an eternity. She strained to hear every sound—the whisper of the wind, the sigh of leaves. Her heart hadn’t stopped its painful thudding since he’d left her.

  Never again, Morgan promised herself. Never again would she sit and wait. Never again would she sit helpless and trembling, on the verge of hot, useless tears. If anything happened—she clamped down on the incomplete thought. Nothing was going to happen to Nick. He’d be back any moment. But the moments dragged on.

  When he dropped down beside her, she had to stifle a scream. Morgan had thought her ears were tuned to hear even the dust blow on the wind, but she hadn’t heard his approach. She didn’t even say his name, just went into his arms.

  “He’s gone,” Nick told her.

  The memory of that one shuddering moment of terror washed over him. He crushed his mouth to hers as though he were starving. All of her fears whipped out, one by one, until there was nothing in her but a well of love.

  “Oh, Nicholas, I was so frightened for you. What happened?”

  “He wasn’t pleased.” With a grin that was both ruthless and daring, he pulled her to her feet. “No, he wasn’t pleased. He’ll be on the boat tomorrow.”

  “But did you see who—”

  “No questions.” He silenced her again with his mouth, roughly, as though the adventure were only beginning. “I don’t want to have to lie to you again.” With a laugh, Nick drew her toward the path and the moonlight. “Now, my stubborn, courageous witch, I’ll take you back. Tomorrow when your feet are too sore to stand, you’ll curse me.”

  He wouldn’t tell her any more, Morgan thought. And for now, perhaps it was best. “Share my bed tonight.” She smiled as she hooked her arm around his waist. “Stay another hour with me, and I won’t curse you.”

  Laughing, he ran a hand down her hair. “What man could resist such an ultimatum?”

  ***

  Morgan awoke as a soft knock sounded at her door. The small maid peeked inside.

  “Your pardon, kyrios, a phone call from Athens.”

  “Oh . . . thank you, Zena, I’ll be right there.” Rising quickly, Morgan hurried to the phone in Liz’s sitting room, belting her robe as she went. “Hello?”

  “Morgan, did I wake you? It’s past ten.”

  “Liz?” Morgan tried to shake away the cobwebs. It had been dawn before she had slept.

  “Do you know anyone else in Athens?”

  “I’m a bit groggy.” Morgan yawned, then smiled with memories. “I went for a late-night swim. It was wonderful.”

  “You sound very smug,” Liz mused. “We’ll have to discuss it later. Morgan, I feel terrible about it, but I’m going to have to stay here until tomorrow. The doctors are hopeful, but Iona’s still in a coma. I can’t leave Alex to cope with his family and everything else alone.”

  “Please, don’t worry about me. I’m sorry, Liz. I know it’s difficult for both of you.” She thought of Iona’s involvement in the smuggling and felt a fresh wave of pity. “How is Alex holding up? He seemed so devastated when he left here.”

  “It would be easier if the whole family didn’t look to him for answers. Oh, Morgan, it’s so ugly.” Strain tightened her voice and Morgan heard her take a deep breath to control it. “I don’t know how Iona’s mother will handle it if she dies. And suicide—it just makes it harder.”

  Morgan swallowed the words she wanted to say. Nick had spoken to her in confidence; she couldn’t betray it even for Liz. “You said the doctors are hopeful.”

  “Yes, her vital signs are leveling, but—”

  “What about Dorian, Liz? Is he all right?”

  “Barely.” Morgan heard Liz sigh again. “I don’t know how I could have been so blind not to see how he felt about her. He’s hardly left her bedside. If Alex hadn’t bullied him, I think he might have slept in the chair beside her last night instead of going home. From the way he looks this morning, I don’t think he got any sleep anyway.”

  “Please give him my best—and Al
ex, too.” On a long frustrated breath she sat down. “Liz, I feel so helpless.” She thought of smuggling, attempted murder and shut her eyes. “I wish there were something I could do for you.”

  “Just be there when I get back.” Though her tone lightened, Morgan recognized the effort. “Enjoy the beach for me, look for your goatherd. If you’re going to take moonlight swims, you should have some company for them.” When Morgan was silent Liz continued slowly. “Or did you?”

  “Well, actually . . .” Smiling, Morgan trailed off.

  “Tell me, have you settled on a goatherd or a poet?”

  “Neither.”

  “It must be Nick then,” Liz concluded. “Imagine that—all I had to do was invite him to dinner.”

  Morgan lifted a brow and found herself grinning. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Life was everywhere, she remembered, if you only knew where to look.

  “Mmm-hmmm. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Have fun. The number’s