Part 17 (1/2)
Rising, he helped Morgan to her feet. She exchanged a formal and involved good-night with the proprietor before Andrew could navigate her away from the crowd.
Those not gathered in the kafenion were long since in bed. The white houses were closed and settled for the night. Now and then a dog barked, and another answered. Morgan could hear her own footsteps echo down the street.
”It's so quiet,” she murmured. ”Al you can real y hear is the water and the night itself. Ever since that first morning when I woke up on Lesbos, I've felt as if I belonged. Nothing that's happened since has spoiled that for me. Andrew.” She whirled herself around in his arms and laughed. ”I don't believe I'm ever going home again. How can I face New York and the traffic and the snow again? Rus.h.i.+ng to work, rus.h.i.+ng home. Maybe I'l become a fisherman, or give in to Liz and marry a goatherd.”
”I don't think you should marry a goatherd,” Andrew said practical y, and drew her closer. Her scent was tangling his senses. Her face, in the moonlight, was an ageless mystery. ”Why don't you give the fis.h.i.+ng a try? We could set up housekeeping in Nick's cottage.”
It would serve him right, her mind muttered. Lifting her mouth, Morgan waited for the kiss.
It was warm and complete. Morgan neither knew nor cared if the glow was a result of the kiss or the liquor. Andrew's lips weren't demanding, weren't urgent and possessive. They were comforting, requesting. She gave him what she could.
There was no rocketing pa.s.sion-but she told herself she didn't want it. Pa.s.sion clouded the mind more successful y than an ocean of ouzo. She'd had enough of hunger and pa.s.sions.
They brought pain with disil usionment. Andrew was kind, uncomplicated. He wouldn't turn away when she needed him.
He wouldn't give her sleepless nights. He wouldn't make her doubt her own strict code of right and wrong. He was the knight-a woman was safe with a knight.
”Morgan,” he murmured, then rested his cheek on her hair. ”You're exquisite. Isn't there some man I should consider dueling with?”
Morgan tried to think of Jack, but could form no clear picture. There was, however, a sudden, atrociously sharp image of Nick as he dragged her close for one of his draining kisses. ”No,” she said too emphatical y. ”There's no one. Absolutely no one.”
Andrew drew her away and tilted her chin with his finger. He could see her eyes in the dim glow of moonlight. ”From the strength of your denial, I'd say my compet.i.tion's pretty formidable. No”-he laid a finger over her lips as she started to protest-”I don't want to have my suspicions confirmed tonight. I'm selfish.”
He kissed her again, lingering over it. ”d.a.m.n it, Morgan, you could be habit forming. I'd better take you home while I remember I'm a gentleman and you're a very drunk lady.”
The vil a s.h.i.+mmered white under the night sky. A pale light glowed in a first-floor window for her return.
”Everyone's asleep,” Morgan stated unnecessarily as she let herself out of the car.
Andrew rounded the hood. ”I'l have to be very quiet.” She m.u.f.fled irrepressible giggles with a hand over her mouth. ”Oh, I'm going to feel like an idiot tomorrow if I remember any of this.”
”I don't think you'l remember too much,” Andrew told her as he took her arm.
Morgan managed the stairs with the careful dignity of someone who no longer feels the ground under her feet. ”It would never do to disgrace Alex by landing on my face in the foyer. He and Dorian are so dignified.”
”And I,” Andrew returned, ”wil have to resume my drive with the utmost caution.
Nick wouldn't approve if I ran his Fiat off a cliff.” ”Why, Andrew.” Morgan stood back and studied him owlishly. ”You're almost as sloshed as I am.”
”Not quite, but close enough. However”-he let out a long breath and wished he could lie down-”I conducted myself with the utmost restraint.”
”Very nicely done.” She went off into a m.u.f.fled peal of giggles again. ”Oh, Andrew.” She leaned against him so heavily that he had to s.h.i.+ft his balance to support her. ”I did have a good time-a wonderful time. I needed it more than I realized. Thank you.”
”In you go.” He opened the door and gave her a nudge inside. ”Be careful on the stairs,” he whispered. ”Should I wait and listen for the sounds of an undignified tumble?”
”Just be on your way and don't take the Fiat for a swim.” She stood on her toes and managed to brush his chin with her lips. ”Maybe I should make you some coffee.”
”You'd never find the kitchen. Don't worry, I can always park the car and walk if worse comes to worse. Go to bed, Morgan, you're weaving.” ”That's you,” she retorted before she closed the door.
Morgan took the stairs with painful caution. The last thing she wanted to do was wake someone up and have to carry on any sort of reasonable conversation. She stopped once and pressed her hands to her mouth to stop a fresh bout of giggles.
Oh, it felt so good, so good not to be able to think.
But this has to stop, she told herself firmly. No more of this, Morgan, straighten up and get upstairs before al is discovered.
She managed to pul herself to the top landing, then had to think careful y to remember in which direction her room lay. To the left, of course, she told herself with a shake of the head. But which way is left, for G.o.d's sake? She spent another moment working it out before she crept down the hal . She gripped the doork.n.o.b, then waited for the door to stop swaying before she pushed it open.
”Ah, success,” she murmured, then nearly spoiled it by stumbling over the rug.
Quietly, she shut the door and leaned back against it. Now, if she could just find the bed. A light switched on, as if by magic. She smiled absently at Nick.