Her eyebrows lifted and she walked past him, into his room, glancing around the impressive bedroom where they’d spent the first month of their marriage. “Looks just as I remembered,” she said, turning to face him. “But you don’t. You’ve changed.”

“Yes, I grew a beard, I know.”

“It’s not just the beard and hair. It’s you. You’re different.”

“Perhaps you weren’t aware. My wife left me. It wasn’t an easy thing.”

She gave him a long, level look. “You could have come after me.”

“I did.”

“You did not.”

“I did.”

“I’m not talking about phone calls, or emails or texts. Those don’t count.”

“No, they don’t, and they don’t work, either, not once you turned your phone off. Which is why I flew repeatedly to New York, drove up to Greenwich—”

“You didn’t!”

His hands clenched at his sides. “Good God, if you contradict me one more time, I will throttle you, Morgan, I will. Because I did go after you, I wanted you back, I wanted you home and I did everything I could to save our marriage. I visited your father at work. I appeared on your parents’ doorstep. I spoke—repeatedly—to each of your siblings—”

“I can’t believe it,” she whispered.

“Believe it,” he said grimly, moving toward her, stepping so close he could smell the hint of fragrance from her shampoo, and the sweet clean scent of her perfume on her skin. He loved her smell. Loved her softness. Loved everything about his woman.

But that was then, and this was now, and he was so done with the craziness and the chaos that had followed their marriage.

His gaze caught hers, held, and he stared down into her eyes, drinking in that intense blue that always made him think of the sea around his home in Greece. Tiny purple and gold flecks shimmered against the deep blue irises … like the glimmer of sun on the surface of water. He used to think her eyes perfectly expressed who she was … a woman of magic and mystery and natural beauty.

Now he knew he’d been tricked. Tricked and deceived by a beautiful face, by stunning blue eyes.

Bitterness rolled through him and his gut clenched, his jaw hardening, anger roiling. He really didn’t like remembering, and he really didn’t like feeling the fury and rejection again, but it was what it was. They were what they were. Such was life.

“And if you don’t believe me, make some enquiries. Ask your brother, or your sister Tori, or Logan, or Jemma. Ask them all. Ask why no one would tell me anything. Demand answers, if not for you, then for me. Find out why the entire Copeland family turned their backs on me. I still don’t know why. Just as I don’t know why you disappeared, or where you went, but you were gone. I even hired private investigators, but you were nowhere to be found.”

Morgan bundled her arms across her chest and drew a slow, unsteady breath. A small pulse beat wildly at the base of her throat. “You really came after me?”