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.”