Now, from the top of the stairs, he watched Morgan step onto the platform down below, her brown hair gleaming in the sunlight, spilling down her back. His chest hurt, heavy and aching with suppressed emotion.

Morgan. His woman. His.

She stood on the platform, a hand shadowing her eyes as she looked out across the water. A wooden rowboat, the color of a robin’s egg, was tethered to the platform and bobbed next to her. The blue rowboat, and dark sapphire sea, perfectly framed Morgan in her fitted white dress, which accented her slim curves.

She looked fresh and young standing on the platform, and when she slipped off her shoes and sat down on the pier’s edge, pulling her crisp skirts high on her thigh so that she could put her bare feet in the water, he felt a fierce surge of emotion.

It had been his job to love her, cherish her and protect her. And he’d failed in all three counts.

Watching her, Drakon’s chest grew tight. He’d vowed five years ago to make things right, and he hadn’t made them right yet. Giving her a check and a divorce wasn’t right. It was easy. Easier to let her go than to change, or struggle to save them. But he didn’t want easy. He wanted Morgan. And she was worth fighting for, and she was worth changing for, and she was worth everything to him.

She was everything to him.

He’d known it the moment he’d lost her.

And now that she was here, he realized that he could not give up on her. Could not give up on them. Not because he needed to win her back, not because he needed to prove anything—for God’s sake, he was Drakon Xanthis, and the world was his oyster—but because he loved her, Morgan Copeland.

And for the past five years, Morgan Copeland had tied him up in knots. But he was a smart man. He could figure out how to untie the knots. He could figure out how to reach her, how to make this—them—work.

It was a challenge, but he liked challenges. He’d never been afraid of tackling difficult situations. What was it that his father used to say? Problems were just opportunities in disguise?

Morgan being here was an opportunity. And Drakon would make the most of the opportunity.

“It was a mistake making love without protection,” Drakon said quietly. “And I accept full responsibility should you get pregnant.”

Morgan stiffened. She hadn’t heard Drakon approach, but now she felt him there behind her, and her nape prickled, the hair on her arms lifted, and a shiver raced through her as she remembered how it felt being with him in her room, his skin on her skin, his mouth taking hers, his body giving her so much pleasure.

It had been so good. So intense and physical that she lost perspective. Forgot what was important. But then, hadn’t that always been his effect on her?