His eyes glittered and he looked almost pale beneath his tan. “Anything else, Morgan?”

“Yes, actually. Next time you marry, ask your bride what kind of home she wants to live in. Or better yet, include her on the design process, or take her with you when you go house hunting. That way your poor wife might actually like her cage.”

“Cage?” he choked out, expression furious.

She shrugged, shoulders twisting. “It’s what it felt like,” she said, slipping past him to climb the stone and cement stairs that led back up to the house. And then halfway up the staircase, she paused. “But I’m not your pet, Drakon, and I won’t be kept!”

And then with her skirts in her hands, she raced on up, half hoping he’d follow and end this terrible fight the only way they knew how to end things—through sex.

Because right now she wanted him and needed him, not to make her come, but to make her feel safe. Sane. Only she didn’t know how to ask him for comfort, and he didn’t know how to give comfort. Just raw, carnal pleasure.

But even raw, carnal pleasure would be better than nothing right now, and as she continued up toward the house, she tried not to think how good it’d feel to have him push her back against the rock wall and capture her hands in his and hold her immobile all the while kissing her senseless, kissing her until she was wet and ready for him and he could take her here, in the sun, near the sea, with the tang of salt in her nose and the sweet heady fragrance of jasmine perfuming the air, and the taste of Drakon—her husband, and her heart—on her tongue.

CHAPTER NINE

THERE WAS NO call back from the pirates and Morgan spent the rest of the afternoon in her bedroom. She didn’t have to stay in her room, but she thought it safer than wandering around the villa or the extensive grounds, where she might bump into Drakon.

In her room, Morgan tried napping and she actually fell asleep, but didn’t sleep long, as her mother called, waking her. It was a brief, meaningless conversation about social events and it infuriated Morgan that her mother would even ask, much less expect, Morgan to drop everything to attend a charity fund-raiser with her.

“I’m in Italy working to bring Dad home,” Morgan told her mother.

“No one is going to give you the money, Morgan.” Her mother paused. “And if they do, they are fools.”

After hanging up, Morgan tried to fall back asleep, but she couldn’t, too unsettled from the call. So she took a long bath, trying to forget the things her mother said, remaining in the tub until the water turned cold and the skin on her fingers shriveled up.

Morgan was chilled by the time she got out of the bath, and she blew her hair dry and dressed carefully for dinner, trying to fill her time, trying to stay busy so she wouldn’t go find Drakon.