With a sigh, Morgan sat down on a rock perched high above the water. With some surprise, she saw tiny blue-headed flowers struggling toward the sun out of a crevice hardly wider than a thumbnail. She touched them, but couldn't bring herself to pluck any. Life's everywhere, she realized, if you only know where to look.

"Morgan."

Her hand closed over the blooms convulsively at the sound of his voice. She opened it slowly and turned her head. Nick was standing only a short distance away, his hair caught by the breeze that just stirred the air. In jeans and a T-shirt, his face unshaven, he looked more like the man she had first encountered.

Undisciplined. Unprincipled. Her heart gave a quick, bounding leap before she control ed it.

Without a word, Morgan rose and started down the slope.

"Morgan." He caught her quickly, then turned her around with a gentleness she hadn't expected from him. Her eyes were cool, but beneath the frost, he saw they were troubled. "I heard about Iona."

"Yes, you once told me there was little that happened on the island you didn't know."

Her toneless voice slashed at him, but he kept his hands easy on her arms. "You found her."

She wouldn't let that uncharacteristic caring tone cut through her defenses. She could be-would be-as hard and cold as he had been. "You're wel informed, Nicholas."

Her face was unyielding, and he didn't know how to begin. If she would come into his arms, he could show her. But the woman who faced him would lean on no one. "It must have been very difficult for you."

She lifted a brow, as though she were almost amused. "It was easier to find someone alive than to find someone dead."

He winced at that-a quick jerk of facial muscles, then dropped his hands. She'd asked him for comfort once, and now that he wanted to give it, needed to give it, it was too late. "Wil you sit down?"

"No, it's not as peaceful here as it was."

"Stop slashing at me!" he exploded, grabbing her arms again. "Let me go."

But the faint quaver in her voice told him something her words hadn't. She was closer to her own threshold than perhaps even she knew. "Very wel , if you'l come back to the house with me." "No."

"Yes." Keeping a hand on her arm, Nick started up the rough path. "We'l talk."

Morgan jerked her arm but his grip was firm. He propel ed her up the rough path without looking at her. "What do you want, Nicholas? More details?"

His mouth thinned as he pul ed her along beside him. "Al right. You can tel me about Iona if you like."

"I don't like," she tossed back. They were already approaching the steps to his house. Morgan hadn't realized they were so close. What devil had prompted her to walk that way? "I don't want to go with you."

"Since when have I cared what you want?" he asked bitterly and propel ed her through the front door. "Coffee," he demanded as Stephanos appeared in the hal .

"Al right, I'l give you the details," Morgan raged as she whirled inside the door of the salon. "And then, by G.o.d, you'l leave me be! I found Iona unconscious, hardly alive. There was a syringe in bed with her. It seems she was an addict." She paused, unaware that her breath was starting to heave.

"But you knew that, didn't you, Nicholas? You know al manner of things."

She'd lost al color, just as she had when she'd run across the beach and into his arms. He felt a twinge, an ache, and reached out for her.

"Don't touch me!" Nick's head jerked back as if she'd slapped him. Morgan pressed her hands against her mouth and turned away. "Don't touch me."

"I won't put my hands on you," Nick managed as they bal ed into fists. "Sit down, Morgan, before you keel over."

"Don't tel me what to do." Her voice quavered, and she detested it. Making herself turn back, she faced him again. "You have no right to tel me what to do."

Stephanos entered, silent, watchful. As he set the coffee tray down, he glanced over at Morgan. He saw, as Nick couldn't, her heart in her eyes. "You'l have coffee, miss," he said in a soft voice.

"No, I-"

"You should sit." Before Morgan could protest, Stephanos nudged her into a chair.

"The coffee's strong." Nick stood, raging at his impotence as Stephanos clucked around her like a mother hen. "You'l have it black," he told her. "It puts color in your cheeks." Morgan accepted the cup, then stared at it. "Thank you." Stephanos gave Nick one long, enigmatic look, then left them.

"Wel , drink it," Nick ordered, furious that the old man had been able to hack through her defenses when he felt useless. "It won't do you any good in the cup."

Because she needed to find strength somewhere, Morgan drank it down quickly.

"What else do you want?" "d.a.m.n it, Morgan, I didn't bring you here to gril you about Iona."

"No? You surprise me." Steadier, she set the cup aside and rose again. "Though why anything you do should surprise me, I don't know."

"There's nothing too vile you wouldn't attribute to me, is there?" Ignoring the coffee, Nick strode to the bar. "Perhaps you think I kil ed Stevos and left the body for you to find."

"No," she said calmly, because she could speak with perfect truth. "He was stabbed in the back." "So?"

"You'd face a man when you kil ed him."

Nick turned away from the bar, the gla.s.s stil empty in his hand. His eyes were black now, as black as she'd ever seen them. There was pa.s.sion in them barely, just barely, suppressed. "Morgan, last night-"

"I won't discuss last night with you." Her voice was cold and final, cutting through him more accurately than any blade.

"Al right, we'l forget it." This time he fil ed the gla.s.s. He'd known there would be a price to pay; somehow he hadn't thought it would be quite so high. "Would you like an apology?"

"For what?" He gave a short laugh as his hand tightened on the gla.s.s. He tossed back the liquor. "G.o.d, woman, you've a streak of ice through you I hadn't seen."

"Don't talk to me of ice, Nicholas." Her voice rose with a pa.s.sion she'd promised herself she wouldn't feel. "You sit here in your ancestral home, playing your dirty chess games with lives. I won't be one of your p.a.w.ns. There's a woman barely alive in an Athens hospital. You make your money feeding her il ness. Do you think you're remote from the blame because you cross the strait in the dead of night like some swashbuckling pirate?"

Very careful y, he set down the gla.s.s and turned. "I know what I am."

She stared at him until her eyes began to fil again. "So do I," she whispered. "G.o.d help me." Turning, she fled. He didn't go after her.

Moments later, Stephanos came back into the room. "The lady's upset," he said mildly. Nick turned his back to fil his gla.s.s again. "I know what the lady is."

"The past two days have been difficult for her." He clucked his tongue. "She came to you for comfort?"

Nick whirled but managed to bite back the words. Stephanos watched calmly.

"No, she didn't come to me. She'd go to the devil himself before she came to me again." With an effort, he control ed the rage and his tone. "And it's for the best, I can't let her interfere now. As things stand, she'l be in the way."

Stephanos caressed his outrageous moustache and whistled through his teeth.

"Perhaps she'l go back to America."

"The sooner the better," Nick muttered and drained his gla.s.s. At the knock on the door, he swore. "See who the hel it is and get rid of them if you can."

"Captain Tripolos," Stephanos announced a few moments later. There was a gleam in his eye as he melted out of sight. "Captain." Nick fought off the need to swear again. "You'l join me for coffee?"

"Thank you." Tripolos settled into a chair with a few wheezes and sighs. "Was that Miss James I just saw going down the cliff path?" "Yes." With some effort, Nick prevented his knuckles from whitening against the handle of the pot. "She was just here."

Both men watched each other with what seemed casual interest. One was Morgan's panther-the other a crafty bear. "Then she told you about Miss Theoharis."

"Yes." Nick offered the cream. "A nasty business, Captain. I intend to cal Athens later this morning to see what news there is. Is Iona's condition why you're here?"

"Yes. It's kind of you to see me, Mr. Gregoras. I know you are a very busy man."

"It's my duty to cooperate with the police, Captain," Nick countered as he sat back with his coffee. "But I don't know how I can help you in this case." "As you were with Miss Theoharis al of yesterday afternoon, I hoped you could shed some light on her frame of mind."

"Oh, I see." Nick sipped his coffee while his mind raced with possibilities.

"Captain, I don't know if I can help you. Natural y, Iona was distressed that the man's murder was practical y on her doorstep. She was edgy-but then, she often is. I can't say I saw anything different in her."

"Perhaps you could tel me what you did on your boat trip?" Tripolos suggested.

"If Miss Theoharis said anything which seemed to indicate she was thinking of suicide?"