Rumours: The Dishonoured Copelands. Jane Porter

tense, and it hurt, a hot lance of pain straight through her heart. Perhaps it was merely a slip, or possibly, a grammatical error, but both were unlikely. Drakon didn’t make mistakes.

      “But you know that,” he added brusquely.

      “No,” she said equally roughly, “I didn’t know that. I had no idea why you cared about me, or if you even cared for me—”

      “How can you say such a thing?”

      “Because you never talked to me!” she cried. “After our honeymoon ended, you disappeared.”

      “I merely went back to work, Morgan.”

      “Yes, but you worked twelve- and fourteen-hour days, which would have been fine, but when you came home, you were utterly silent.”

      “I was tired. I work long days.”

      “And I was home alone all day with servants who didn’t speak English.”

      “You promised me you were going to learn Greek.”

      “I did, I took lessons at the language school in Athens, but when you came home at night, you were irritated by my attempts to speak Greek, insisting we converse in English—” She compressed her lips, feeling the resentment and frustration bubble up. “And then when I tried to make friends, I kept bumping into your old girlfriends and lovers. Athens is full of them. How many women have you been with, Drakon?”

      “You make it sound like you met dozens of exes, but you bumped into just three.”

      “You’re right, just three, and in hindsight, they were actually much nicer than the Greek socialites I met who were furious that I’d stolen Greece’s most eligible bachelor from under their noses.” Morgan’s eyes sparkled dangerously. “How could I, a trashy American, take one of Greece’s national treasures?”

      “It wasn’t that bad.”

      “It was that bad! Everybody hated me before I even arrived!” She leaned across the table. “You should have warned me, Drakon. Prepared me for my new married life.”

      “I didn’t know … hadn’t realized … that some of the ladies would be so catty, but I always came home to you every night.”

      “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