Sweet Surrender With the Millionaire(21)

Could she bear to say no, to effectively wipe him out of her life for good? He wasn't the type of man to beg.

She took a deep breath. 'I see nothing wrong in us getting to know each  other better. It's-it's nice to know there's a friend around if you need  one,' she added primly.

'Very nice,' he agreed gravely. 'Great, in fact.'

'And the cottage is a little remote. If I need a neighbour in an emergency-'

'You can call on me, any time of the day or-' he paused briefly '-night.'

'Quite,' she said briskly, taking his words at face value and ignoring the innuendo. 'Which is reassuring for a single woman.'

His smile this time was merely a twitch, but the piercing blue eyes  glimmered with laughter. She wondered if he knew how that incredible,  deep, bright blueness could hold you spellbound. Then she answered  herself wryly. Of course he knew. And she was going to have to be very  careful to resist Morgan's particular brand of magic.

This was nothing more than a brief interlude for him, a diverting game  even. She'd caught his interest more because of what she wasn't than  what she was. Unwittingly her refusal to fall into bed with him had  singled her out as something of a challenge; it was the age-old scenario  of the thrill of the chase.

But as long as she knew all that and kept it very firmly to the  forefront of her mind, she could do this. And she wanted to do it. She  wanted to get to know Morgan better, to find out what made him tick. She  wanted to discover more about his past, what had made him the tough,  cynical man he had become. To understand his work, what motivated him.  He was a fascinating individual, she admitted it. Magnetic even. He had a  quality that drew people into his orbit almost in spite of themselves.  And she wanted to be with him … for a while.

She had been totally straight with him; he knew she had no intention of  sleeping with him. That being the case, she had nothing to lose. Nothing  at all. Did she?

CHAPTER NINE

WILLOW and Morgan ate at a little restaurant tucked away in a small  market town some twenty miles away that night. When he arrived at the  cottage he was driving the Aston Martin and the beautiful car added to  the worries that had crowded in the minute he'd left. Morgan was way,  way out of her league, she told herself as he helped her into the  passenger seat and shut the door quietly, the doubts that had been  rampant since the morning crowding in. Seeing him like this was going  against everything she'd decided for the future on breaking with Piers.  How could she be so stupid, so fickle? This was such a mistake.

Contrary to her fears at the beginning of the evening, they enjoyed a  night of easy talk and easy laughter, and when Morgan dropped her home  he declined her offer of a nightcap and left her on the doorstep with a  firm, confident kiss that kept her warm until she was in bed.

The next day Kitty cooked Sunday lunch for them and they took the dogs  for a long walk in the surrounding countryside in the afternoon, talking  the whole time-about his work, hers, plays and films they'd seen and  books they'd read. Nothing too deep and nothing too personal. She didn't  stay for tea, saying she'd brought some work home to do, which wasn't  true, and that she had to move stuff in the cottage so Jeff could start  work in the morning, which was true.

By the next weekend Jeff had finished the job and the cottage was  blissfully warm. Willow had never realised until the last couple of  weeks what a perfectly wonderful invention radiators were, and she found  herself touching them in thankfulness every time she passed. They'd  transformed her home.

Beth invited herself and Peter for Saturday lunch on the excuse they  wanted to drop in her housewarming present-a lovely stone birdbath for  the garden-although Willow was fully aware her sister was hoping to see  Morgan. She'd told Beth she was seeing Morgan occasionally-as friends,  she'd emphasised-and Beth had been instantly agog but she'd resisted  saying more.                       
       
           



       

She hadn't mentioned Beth's visit to Morgan when he'd phoned her in the  week to invite her out to dinner on Saturday night. She didn't want him  to think she was hinting he come and meet her sister, or that he stay  away-depending on which way he took it-and neither did she want Beth  forming an opinion about Morgan yet. If they met and Beth thought he was  the bee's knees that would create one set of potential problems, and  conversely if her sister and Peter didn't take to Morgan that would  cause difficulty in another way. No, it was far better to maintain the  status quo for the time being.

Saturday turned out to be the sort of mellow English autumn day that  inspired poets to pen the odd sonnet or two, and after lunch it was warm  enough to take their coffee into the garden and sit on the ancient  wooden benches she'd uncovered in the midst of what had been a jungle.

The trees surrounding the garden were now clothed in a mantle of gold,  bronze and orange, the sky was a bright cloudless blue and a host of  birds were twittering and squabbling and enjoying the sunshine. They  watched as a robin, braver than the rest of its feathered kind, explored  the new bird bath, which Willow had filled earlier. He had a great time  splashing around.

'This is lovely.' Beth breathed in the air, one hand resting on the swell of her stomach. 'So peaceful.'

They sat for a long time idly chatting, and when Beth dozed off with her  head resting on Peter's shoulder and he whispered she'd been awake most  of the night due to the baby deciding it was football practice, Willow  fetched a warm throw from the house to tuck around her sister and then  sat listening to Peter's plans for the baby's future, which seemed to  revolve around his favourite football club.

The gentle shadows of dusk had been encroaching for some time when  Willow glanced surreptitiously at her watch. Morgan was due to arrive at  seven and it was getting late. She fetched Peter another coffee, making  sure she was none too quiet about it, but Beth didn't stir. After  another twenty minutes she threw diplomacy to the wind. 'I'm going out  at seven,' she said, when Peter refused the offer of more coffee, 'and  don't you think it's getting chilly out here now the light's all but  gone?'

Peter smiled blithely. 'We're fine,' he said, tucking the throw more  securely round his sleeping wife, 'but don't let me stop you getting  ready.'

Men! She loved her brother-in-law and she couldn't think of a better  husband for Beth or father for their child, but right at that moment she  could have kicked him. Somewhat helplessly, she tried again. 'I'd hate  for you to get bitten. I noticed a couple of mosquitos earlier.'

'I never get bitten and there's not much of Beth visible under this rug. Besides, she needs the sleep,' he said fondly.

Great. Just great. She marched into the house.

Half an hour later she'd showered and dressed in the new, deceptively  simple frock she'd bought that week, a demure, sleeveless, jade-green  number, which was highnecked and slim-fitting but with a naughtily high  slit up one side. Her hair, shining like silk thanks to a wickedly  expensive conditioner, was looped on the back of her head and she was  wearing the long jade earrings her parents had bought her for her  birthday just before the accident, which were infinitely precious for  that reason.

She stared at herself in the mirror. She had been so demoralised during  the years with Piers, so crushed and ashamed, so angry with herself for  letting him hurt her over and over again but unable to rise above the  control he'd exerted, that she'd forgotten what it felt like to dress up  for a man who desired her. For the first time in what seemed like aeons  she was pulling out all the stops and dressing to impress.

Panic sliced through her, undoing the elusive moments of pleasure she'd felt at her reflection.

Forcing herself to breathe deeply, she shut her eyes for a few moments.  The emotional claustrophobia that reared its head at the thought of  involvement was a legacy of her marriage and nothing more, she told  herself grimly. It wasn't even connected to Morgan, not really. It could  be any man taking her out tonight and she would feel the same way. The  feeling of walking into a trap, of losing her freedom and independence  could be overcome. Beth had said she was letting Piers still influence  her life and that had rankled ever since. Because-she opened her eyes  and stared at herself again, her mouth rueful-it was true. So she had to  master this feeling and herself.                       
       
           



       

'Wow! You look a million dollars.'

She hadn't heard Beth come up the stairs and now she swung round to face  her sister, smiling at the expression on her face. 'It's only me,' she  said with an embarrassed giggle.

'You look fantastic.' Beth was grinning like a Cheshire cat. 'Absolutely  fantastic. So, this going out is a date with Morgan, I take it?' She  plonked herself down happily on the bed.