He slid a hand down her back, shaping her to him. “I don’t think you understand how much I loved you,” he said roughly. “How much I will always love you.” His voice cracked, turned hoarse. “There is no one else for me, but you. You aren’t just my wife. You are my world.”

“And you are mine.”

“Why did you leave then?”

“I was honestly falling apart.”

“Why?”

“I loved you so much, it scared me. I’d never felt for anyone what I felt for you … but the feelings were so intense, it made me feel out of control. And then when we made love … that started to do something to my head. Played games with me, made me afraid.”

“Afraid? Why? How?”

“I had so little experience when I met you, and you had so much, and in bed you’re … hot. Erotic. Demanding. You make everything hot and erotic, too.”

“I demanded too much of you?”

“There were times I felt overwhelmed.”

“Thus, your disgust.”

“You never disgusted me. I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t true. I was just angry and hurt, and trying desperately hard to keep you at arm’s length since I find you impossible to resist.”

He stepped away from her and went to flip the light switch, turning on the small wall sconces so the room glowed with soft yellow light. “Maybe I didn’t disgust you, but I must have scared you at times for you to even say such a thing.”

“I never minded it being … hot … when you were relaxed with me, and spent a lot of time with me, but once we returned to Athens, I didn’t see you often and then we weren’t talking and it didn’t feel the same. It didn’t feel as warm and safe. It felt more dangerous.”

“But you always came.”

“Because you’ve got great technique.” She managed an unsteady smile. “But I’d rather not come, and just be close to you, feel close to you, than have erotic sex and have you feel like a stranger.”

He sat down on the side of the bed. “Come here.” He smiled crookedly. “Please.”

Morgan walked to him, heart thumping, and feeling painfully shy. “Yes?”

He drew her down onto the bed next to him, and kissed her, once and again, before lifting his head to look down into her eyes. “I love how sensual you are. I love your passionate nature. But I never want you to be uncomfortable with me again … in bed, or out of bed. I love you too much to hurt you or scare you or to push you away. But you have to tell me when something is too much. You have to tell me when I’m being distant or when you feel nervous or lonely or afraid.”

“You want me to talk to you,” she said.

“Yes. I want you to talk to me.”

“That means you have to talk to me, too.”

He smiled even more crookedly. “I know.”