Morgan hated it, and had come to resent Bronwyn, all the while feeling guilty for resenting someone that Drakon viewed as so indispensible to his work.

But now Morgan knew she’d been right to object to Bronwyn’s intrusiveness. Because Bronwyn meant to be intrusive. Bronwyn wanted Drakon. She’d wanted him five years ago, and she still wanted him now.

Of course, Morgan had no proof, just her female intuition and that nagging gut instinct that told her something was wrong … the same gut instinct that was telling her now that Bronwyn was still a problem.

Abruptly Morgan stood, unable to remain one more moment in the same room with Bronwyn.

“It’s late and I’m still jet-lagged,” Morgan said, her voice sharper than usual. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll head to bed.”

CHAPTER TEN

THE NEXT MORNING Morgan had coffee brought to her in her room and she sat on her balcony, sipping her coffee, trying to figure out how she could avoid going downstairs today. She’d slept like hell, dreaming of Bronwyn, as well as Bronwyn and Drakon frolicking in the pool, and the ballroom, and everywhere else, and the last person Morgan wanted to see was the real Bronwyn, who Morgan knew was up and about, as she could hear her voice wafting up from one of the terraces below.

Morgan glared down into her coffee as Bronwyn’s laugh spiraled up again. Why was Bronwyn here? What was Drakon thinking?

“More coffee? A pastry?” a deep, distinctive male voice coming from the bedroom behind her, asked.

Morgan glanced over her shoulder, to where Drakon lounged in the doorway, looking horribly handsome and very rested. “You should knock,” she said tartly, hating him for bringing Bronwyn here, to the villa, when Morgan was here feeling overwhelmed and out of control.

“I did. You didn’t answer.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have come in.”

“I needed to speak with you.”

“But it’s not polite to barge in on ladies in the morning.”

“Not even if I have an invitation for an outing?”

That did give her pause, and Morgan eyed him suspiciously, excited at the idea of escaping the villa for a few hours, before realizing that she needed to be here, available, in case the pirates tried to contact her. “How can we just leave right now in the middle of everything? What if the pirates want to talk to me? Or change their demands?”

“They’re not going to change their demands. They’re anticipating six million dollars being delivered any day now.”

He was probably right, and yet she found it hard to contemplate doing something pleasurable when her father was still in such trouble. “I wish I knew if he had his heart medicine. I wish I knew he was okay … healthy … strong. Then I’d feel better about things. But I don’t know, and the not knowing is really scary.”

“It’s always the scariest part.” His broad shoulders shifted. “But worrying doesn’t change his situation, it just makes you sick, and makes it more difficult for you to cope with stress. Which is why I’m taking you out for a couple hours. Fresh air and a change of scenery will give you some perspective.”