Sweet Surrender With the Millionaire(22)

Prevarication was out of the question. Willow nodded.

'And you want us to get out of your hair?'

Willow smiled. 'You're prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice?' she said lightly. 'Greater love hath no sister … '

'Grudgingly.' Beth laughed. 'What time's he coming?'

The knock at the front door was answer enough. They heard Peter open the  door, the murmur of male voices and then Peter called, 'Willow?  Morgan's here.'

'Sorry.' Beth's voice was apologetic but her eyes were sparkling with delight. 'Looks like it's too late to escape.'

'I won't be a minute,' Willow called down, before eyeing her sister severely. 'No third degree, OK?'

'I wouldn't dream of it.' Beth managed to look shocked.

'Course you wouldn't.' Willow sighed. Her worst nightmare.

When they entered the sitting room the two men were standing with a  drink in their hands deep in conversation. Willow's heart stopped, then  bounded when she caught sight of Morgan. As always, he looked bigger and  tougher and sexier than she remembered. 'Hi,' she said, faintly.

'Hi, yourself,' he said very softly, intimately.

He smiled and the sun came up, or that was how it seemed. 'You've met  Peter,' she said, relieved at how calm she sounded. 'And this is my  sister, Beth. Beth, Morgan Wright.'

'Nice to meet you, Beth.' Morgan held out his hand and Beth took it  after one swift glance at Willow, which was all too eloquent. Tasty  didn't do this man justice.

OK, Willow told herself wryly. Hadn't she known all along it would be the bee's-knees reaction? What woman could resist him?

She listened to Beth gabbling that they were so-o-o sorry they'd delayed  Willow, but they were leaving right now and it was so-o-o nice to have  met Willow's friend, whom they'd heard so much about.

OK, Willow thought. Stop right there, Beth.

Morgan's whole face was smiling now. 'Likewise,' he said warmly, 'but do  you have to rush back straight away? Why don't you join us for dinner?  We'd love that, wouldn't we, Willow?'

Willow saw Beth's eyes widen. Game, set and match to Morgan, she thought  resignedly. In one fell swoop he'd won her sister for ever. He was  good. He was very, very good.

Beth did the 'Oh, we couldn't possibly' thing very well, but Willow  could tell her sister's heart wasn't in it. Within a short while she was  seated beside Morgan in the Aston Martin and Beth and Peter were  following behind in their faithful old Cavalier. She sat feeling a  little shell-shocked.

'You didn't mind?' Morgan asked after a moment or two.

'You inviting Beth and Peter to join us? No, not at all,' she lied smoothly. 'Why would I mind?' Why, indeed?

'Peter had mentioned they'd come for lunch and with it being seven  o'clock and Beth not having eaten since, in her condition, you know … ' He  gave her stiff face a swift glance.

Willow flushed. The reprimand was gentle and covert, but it felt like a reprimand nonetheless. 'I said I didn't mind.'

'Good.' Another moment or two slipped by. 'You look incredible, by the way,' he said softly. 'Absolutely beautiful.'

Her flush deepened. 'Thank you.' Charmer!

'And I'd much rather have been alone with you tonight.'

In spite of the fact she knew full well she was being sweettalked by an  expert, Willow found herself melting. It took all her willpower to  ignore the sensual quality to his voice and say evenly, 'With the baby  coming soon Beth won't have too many opportunities for  spur-of-the-moment nights out.'                       
       
           



       

'No, I guess that's right,' he replied.

'I presume wherever it is we're going can stretch a table for two to four?' she asked crisply.

'Oh, yes.' He nodded. 'They're very accommodating.'

'Good. No problem, then.' She stared out of the window.

A mile or two slipped by before he murmured, 'What, exactly, had Beth heard about me, by the way?' Laughter in his voice.

'That was just social etiquette,' she said a mite too quickly.

'Social etiquette? Ah, yes. I see.' He gave an understanding nod.

'Like your reply,' she said stiffly.

'But I had heard plenty about your sister, Willow,' he reminded her gently.

She supposed he had. Beth and Peter and their life together had seemed  fairly innocuous a subject on the walk last weekend. Deciding attack was  the best defence, she said testily, 'Why do you always have to have the  last word, Morgan Wright?'

'A definite character fault,' he agreed gravely.

She suddenly laughed; she couldn't help it. 'I've made Beth promise not  to ask you if you can keep me in the manner to which I've become  accustomed, but if she goes into parent mode you'll have to excuse her.  Her hormones are all over the place at the moment. And being happily  married she thinks that is the only way anyone can be truly happy in  life.' She wrinkled her nose.

'And you? What do you think?' he said quietly.

'Me?' She had to force the laugh now. 'Like you, I think it's a recipe for disaster.'

Morgan made no comment to this. 'She's a lot like you.'

'In looks? Yes, I suppose so. And we're both like our mum.'

He glanced at her, a swift look, but said no more for some miles. It was  as they drew into the grounds of a large hotel he said quietly, 'I've  missed you this week. Have you missed me?'

Light words came to mind, words that could have passed off the moment  without betraying anything of herself. Instead she said just as quietly,  'Yes.'

The four of them got on so well the evening flew by on wings. Willow  really did think Beth would have followed them home but for Peter  putting his foot down where they made their goodbye in the hotel car  park. 'Say goodbye nicely,' he prompted.

'Sorry.' Beth was giggly as she whispered into Willow's ear as she  hugged her goodnight. It certainly wasn't due to the sparkling water  she'd consumed all night due to her condition, Willow reflected with a  smile. 'But I've so enjoyed this evening. He's gorgeous-Morgan, I mean.  And we didn't expect him to treat us, you know. The pair of you must  come round for a meal soon, promise? We'd love to have you before the  baby comes.'

'Peter's waiting,' Willow pointed out gently.

'Don't freeze him out, Willow.' Beth wasn't giggly any longer. 'Give it a chance. He's gorgeous, he really is.'

'Beth, neither of us want anything serious. This is just a few meals out  together, a little fling, that's all.' She hugged Beth again and then  stepped away from her, becoming aware as she did so that Morgan was  closer than she'd thought, close enough, maybe, to hear what she'd said,  even though he was talking to Peter. For a moment she felt awful, then  her chin lifted. She hadn't said anything out of place. It was what  they'd agreed. He'd been the one to suggest it, not her.

Morgan put his arm round her waist as they waved the others off. For a  second the sense of déjà vu was so strong she felt sick. How many times  had Piers stood with her like this, playing the devoted husband after  Beth and Peter had left them after an evening together? Whispering into  her hair that the meal had been a shambles, she'd laughed too much, she  hadn't laughed enough, her dress was all wrong or she was putting on too  much weight, and all the time disguising his poison with a tender  smile.

'What's the matter? Do you feel ill?'

Morgan's voice brought her face jerking to meet his and she saw he was  looking at her with concern. Shakily she shook her head. 'I'm fine.' She  attempted a smile, which didn't come off.                       
       
           



       

'You're as white as a sheet and far from fine,' he said roughly. 'What's wrong? Have I said something?'

'It's nothing to do with you-with tonight, I mean.' She took a deep  breath; she was saying this all wrong. 'What I mean is, I've enjoyed  tonight. I thought the four of us got on great.'

'Something reminded you of him again, didn't it?' It was as though he  could read her mind at times. 'Something I did? Is that it? Tell me so I  don't make the same mistake again.'

'No. Yes. Oh-' she shook her head, stepping away from him and beginning  to walk to the car in a corner of the car park '-can we forget it?' She  didn't want to do the Piers thing again.

He opened the car door for her and helped her in, shutting the door and  walking round the bonnet with a grim face. Once he was seated, he turned  to her. The muted lighting in the car park was enough for her to see he  wasn't going to let the matter drop. 'Tell me,' he said very quietly.  'Please.'

'There's nothing to tell.' She felt hemmed in, trapped.

'Little fling or not, you will tell me, Willow, if we have to sit here all night.' He wasn't angry and his voice was soft.

So he had heard. Woodenly, she said, 'Piers used to put his arm round me  like that when we said goodbye to family or friends, that's all.'

He swore softly before he said, 'And?'

'And?' she prevaricated, not wanting to say more.

'From the little you've told me about this cowboy there is definitely an  and.' He reached out and lifted her chin so she was forced to meet his  eyes. 'Tell me,' he said again, but this time with such tenderness she  found she had to clench every muscle in her body against the urge to  cry. 'I don't want to make any more mistakes that can put that look on  your face.'