'I told you, it wasn't you.' She lowered her head again, smoothing her dress over her knees with small jerky movements. 'Piers was a control freak,' she whispered after a moment or two. 'I suppose the signs were there before we got married but I was too inexperienced to recognise them. Maybe we'd never have married if my parents hadn't died, I don't know.' She shrugged wearily. 'But we did marry and within a little while he'd turned into someone else. He-he built himself up by knocking me down. Not physically, at least not until the end, but he'd make me feel stupid, worthless, ugly.'
Morgan's hand covered one of hers. She could feel his anger.
'We'd stand like we stood tonight and all the time he'd keep up a litany of what I'd done wrong, how embarrassing I was, how people felt sorry for him because he was with me. It-it was just now and again at first and he said he was pointing out things for my own good, because he loved me so much. Then it got more and more-' She stopped abruptly. 'But to everyone else, even Beth, he appeared the loving husband. After I left him she said she'd known something was wrong but she thought I was still grieving for Mum and Dad.'
'You didn't confide in her?' he asked quietly. 'Not even Beth?'
She shook her head. 'I can't believe I didn't now, but at the time … ' She shook her head again. 'He made me believe I was in the wrong. He-he was very clever.'
'I can think of a better word to describe him.' He reached out and smoothed a strand of hair from her cheek. 'What made you finally break his control?'
She looked at him. Yes, that was exactly what she had done, she thought with an element of surprise. At the time she'd looked on her leaving him as an escape, a feral, self-preservation thing, but it was more than that. The night she had fought back with everything she had-spirit, soul and body-something had been broken. She might have been left emotionally and physically battered, but it had been her who had won. She had become herself again that night, albeit an older, wiser self.
'He went too far,' she said flatly. 'Much too far.'
'Don't tell me if you don't want to.'
She thought for a moment. Did she want to? There was an unsettling blend of tenderness and anger in the tough male face and she knew the anger wasn't directed against her. Something melted. 'He threw his dinner on the floor. It wasn't the first time but that night something in me snapped … '
She told him it all, even the fact that towards the end of their fight she'd known he intended to violate her, which had brought a strength she hadn't known she was capable of. She wasn't aware she was trembling until he leaned across and pulled her into him, one arm holding her close as he rested his chin on the silk of her hair. 'I would give all I own for five minutes alone with this man. He'd never touch another woman again.'
His voice had been soft but of a quality that brought her head up as her eyes sought his. What she saw in his face made her say quickly, 'It's all right. I'm all right. I am, really.'
'Are you?' The blue eyes were piercingly direct and she found she couldn't break their hold.
She had to swallow hard before she said, 'Of course.'
'For something like this there is no "of course".'
A long pause ensued but their gazes didn't unlock. She wondered why it was that this man, a man she hadn't known until a short while ago, seemed to understand how deeply she had been affected by Piers' cruelty when most of her friends had expected her to bounce back within weeks or certainly a few months. Hesitantly, she whispered, 'I'm getting there but-'
'What?' His gaze didn't waver. 'What's the but?'
'I never want to give the control of my life over to someone else again,' she said with total honesty.
For a moment he continued to stare at her, then a slight twist of a smile touched his lips. 'It scares the hell out of me too,' he admitted huskily, his mouth falling on hers. His lips were warm and firm and as hers opened instinctively beneath them his tongue probed the corner or her mouth, teasing her, coaxing a response she was powerless to resist. The kiss changed to one of infinite hunger and she heard him groan, a half-irritated groan at the limitations within the car as he tried to move closer and was restricted by the controls.
He raised his head, faint amusement in his voice as he murmured, 'I haven't done this for years and now I remember why. You need to be a contortionist.'
Aiming to match his tone, she said, 'You haven't kissed a girl?'
His laugh was a deep rumble. 'Made out in a car. The idea's good but the reality is less than practical.' The blue eyes held hers. 'Coffee at your place?'
Aware that something vital had changed in the last minutes she felt a yearning that cut through all her carefully thought-out guidelines for the future. 'Yes,' she whispered. Crazy, madness even, but yes.
CHAPTER TEN
THEY said very little on the drive back from the hotel. Morgan was aware he was driving on automatic, every part of himself tuned into the woman sitting so calm and still beside him. She appeared poised and composed, dispassionate even.
The calmness was a façade. He knew it as surely as drawing in the next breath. Willow had said she didn't want a permanent relationship. Well, neither did he. Not a relationship that came with a whole load of conditions at least. So why did her honesty grate so much? And it did. Hell, it did.
She was as tense as a coiled spring behind that composed exterior. He knew it. He took a bend much too fast and as the tyres squealed warned himself to concentrate. The anger he felt towards the ex-husband who'd left her so painfully damaged was growing, not diminishing. He wanted to make things right for her, to convince her she was a beautiful, sexy, gorgeous woman whom any man would count himself lucky to have in his arms. That was what he wanted. Because it was true.
Oh, yeah? His conscience wouldn't let him get away with it. So this had nothing to do with the fact he'd wanted to make love to her from the first time he'd seen her tending that damn silly bonfire, all smudged and tousled and deliciously bewildered? The gnawing hunger for her body had been with him for night after torturous night, that was the truth of it. She'd stormed into his dreams every time he'd laid his head on the pillow and resolutely stayed there no matter how many cold showers he'd taken. And he had taken plenty.
OK, OK. He made mental acknowledgement to his desire. But a good healthy sex life between a man and a woman couldn't be anything but satisfying for both of them, could it? Damn it, it was what made the world go round, after all.
And what about all his protestations of friendship and letting matters develop at their own pace? Did he genuinely think she was ready for this? Emotionally, where it counted with a woman?
His thoughts went round and round in his head and when he reached the lane leading to his house and Willow's cottage he had to admit he had no clear recollection of the journey from the hotel. He parked on the grass verge outside her garden gate, walking round the bonnet and helping her out of the car without saying a word. She looked slender and delicate, vulnerable.
'You're beautiful.' As he took her in his arms in the dark shadows the tenseness in her shoulders became apparent. He drew her closer, dropping little kisses on her hair and forehead until she slowly relaxed against him with a breath of a sigh. Her hands had been small fists against his chest but now her fingers uncurled and crept down to his waist as her body curved closer into his.
He let his mouth caress her cheeks, her nose, her ears with the same small kisses, making no demands. 'You're beautiful,' he murmured again before taking her mouth in a deeper kiss, his hands falling to her hips as he brought her softness against the hard evidence of his arousal. 'So very beautiful … '
He could feel her slowly relaxing minute by minute and for some time he contented himself with exploring the sweetness of her mouth, bringing all his control to bear to prevent himself crushing her against him. If he hadn't known she had been married he would have thought he was dealing with a virgin by the nervousness he was sensing; it was further proof of just how badly her ex-husband had hurt her.
The night was cool but not cold and the darkness was scented with the faint aroma of hedgerows and woodsmoke. Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted but Morgan's world had shrunk down to the woman in his arms. He wanted her, he thought with an ache in his loins that was painful, but he wanted more than her body. He could hardly remember this feeling; it had been a long time since Stephanie when he'd thought he'd been in love and wanted to know every little thing about a woman.