Free Lovers Never Lie by Gael Morrison Page B

spreading through her as she realized what Andrew had just admitted. Somehow, feeling his pain, she had missed the implications of that statement. He did have an older brother! Perhaps a brother named Andropolous, making old Mr. Andropolous, Andrew's father. What if Andropolous senior was about to hurt Andrew all over again by leaving everything to Andrew's older brother?
    She shook her head. It couldn't be. It was not Andrew's father who was Greek, but his mother. Doubt crept over her. She had only Andrew's word that any of what he said was true.
    "Are you hungry?" he asked.
    "No," she replied, a lump blocking her throat.
    "Thirsty?" he persisted.
    "No," she answered. "I want to get settled for the night."
    He touched her shoulder with his hand. "Take my cabin," he growled. "I'll sleep on deck."
    "No!"
    "Why are you so damned stubborn?"
    "I'm not stubborn."
    "Afraid then?"
    She wrenched away from his hand and faced him, seeing a strange expression in his eyes, as though he wanted her to say something, but didn't believe she would.
    "I'm not afraid of anything," she whispered.
    He stepped closer. "I don't think that's true."
    Feeling dizzy, she turned away, not daring to risk the hypnotic pull of his eyes. The last of the day's light sank into the Mediterranean like a lance thrown by Zeus. Lights sparkled in the east, twinkling like fireflies with the movement of the ship. Other people's homes on islands she'd only dreamed about, where families gathered around the table, talking and sharing, where everybody was safe within the light, the darkness at bay.
    When she faced Andrew once more, his eyes, black in the fading light, made her mouth go dry.
    "Admit it," he insisted, "or someday you'll wish you had." He tilted up her chin. "Someday you'll tell me the truth."
    "You're a fine one to talk." She wrenched her chin from his hand. "If anyone's been avoiding the truth, it's you."
    "What do you mean?" A warning light appeared in his eyes.
    Too late, she realized she couldn't do this now, didn't want to know what he had to tell her, couldn't bear to discover he was the man she'd been warned against... couldn't bear to find out her fears regarding him were real.
    "We're both saying things we don't mean," she said shakily. "I suggest we go back to how it was before."
    "And how was that?" His voice seemed to come out of nowhere and everywhere, to be a series of disembodied sounds in the blackness surrounding her.
    "Fellow travelers on vacation. Out to have a good time and to see the sights."
    "Is that how you want it?"
    "Yes." Her heart died within.
    "Then that's how it'll be."
    * * *
    The wooden slats of the deck lounger dug into Stacia's spine and a film of dew glistened on the blanket pulled up around her chin. She frowned. There had been no blanket over her when she'd thrown herself onto the chair the night before, still shaking from her exchange with Andrew.
    Her package. Panicky, she pushed the blanket down to her waist and felt beneath her chair.
    Nothing.
    She was unable to catch her breath, her heart pounded so frantically. Scissoring her legs, the blanket dropped to the ground beside her. Something rough scraped against the underside of her knee.
    Her bag was safe, lodged between her legs at the foot of the lounger. She snatched it up. It seemed to weigh the same. She unclasped the catch and peered inside. Thank God, the package was still there. It felt as if flannel surrounded her brain, blocking all her senses. Only one thing was clear. She had not been the one to put her bag between her legs.
    "Morning," Andrew drawled.
    Stacia jerked her head in the direction of his voice. A few yards down the deck, Andrew lay sprawled on a lounger identical to hers. His face was beard-stubbled and his eyelids heavy with sleep, but the eyes behind the lids were razor sharp.
    "Sleep well?" he inquired. His gaze scanned the length of her, from crumpled blanket on the deck, to clutched bag, to her doubtless frantic face.
    "Did you put the