Sweet Surrender With the Millionaire(24)

Women abounded in London, beautiful and intelligent women who were  self-confident without being egotistical and who knew their way round  their own needs and what they wanted from a man. They were single by  choice and intended to remain that way and he had found that suited him  just fine. But somehow Willow was different and he couldn't figure out  why.

Then she kissed him back with an unmistakable hunger that threatened his  slow and easy approach. He tugged her more securely into the cradle of  his hips as her arms wound around his neck, her hands sliding into the  thickness of his hair. He covered her lips with his in a kiss that held  nothing back, probing, sipping, tasting as a deep hunger and explosive  warmth enveloped them both. His hips ground against hers as one hand  positioned itself in the small of her back, the other cupping the  fullness of one breast through the soft fabric of her dress.

He heard her catch her breath as she arched against him and the evidence  of her pleasure intensified his, the knowledge that she wanted him as  badly as he wanted her electrifying.

This time his kiss was so demanding it was almost a kind of  consummation, as though she were accepting the thrust of him inside her  body and he didn't try to soften his claim. Slowly, erotically, his  fingertips began a sensual rhythm on her breast until she was trembling  against him, little moans escaping her throat. She felt fluid, like warm  raw silk.

He could take her inside right now and do anything he wanted to her; she  was his for the taking. The usual thrill of conquest was there but  there was a strange feeling of something being missing. Or wrong. Yes,  definitely wrong.

He lifted his head, inhaling deeply and audibly as he tried to focus on  what his mind was telling him rather than the savagely strong, primal  urge of his body.

If he took her to bed now he would be as guilty of manipulating her as that sick so-and-so she'd married.                       
       
           



       

He looked down at her in his arms. She was breathing raggedly, her eyes  still closed and her delicious mouth half open, her swollen lips bearing  evidence of their lovemaking. Desire sliced through him as viciously as  the blade of a knife and he tensed against the bittersweet potency of  it, even as the intensity of what he was feeling provided its own  sobering check on his libido.

He was a man, not an animal. He had mastery over his physical needs, not  the other way round. After what Willow had gone through she needed to  be sure of what she was doing when she opened up her mind and her body  to intimacy again, and he knew full well he had used his sexual  experience to sweep away her defences tonight. She was too beautiful,  too special, to hurt.

The few seconds when she kept her eyes shut enabled him to compose his  features even though he felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach  by the strength of that last thought. He'd been right all along-he  should have listened to the small, still voice of sanity, which had told  him getting involved with this woman would be a gigantic mistake.  Looking back, he'd known deep inside he was falling in love with her  even then. And now it was too late. He totally and irrevocably loved  her.

'Morgan?'

There was bewilderment as well as desire in the green eyes when he met  her gaze, and he held her close for a moment more before straightening  and steadying her as he stepped back a pace. 'I'm sorry,' he said  softly. 'That wasn't part of the deal, was it?' Nor had been falling in  love with her.

She blinked before shaking her head, whether in affirmation of what he'd said or confusion he wasn't sure.

He stared at her, knowing he had to make one thing perfectly clear after  what her ex-husband had put her through. 'I want to make love to you,  Willow,' he said quietly, 'more than I've ever wanted before with anyone  else. I eat, sleep, breathe you half the time and the other half I' m  taking cold showers. Nothing works. I feel you're in my blood and my  bones, let alone my head.'

He watched her assimilate what he'd said, her eyes searching his face as though to verify the truth of it.

'But tonight isn't the night, is it?' he continued huskily. 'It's too  soon. Tomorrow you wouldn't be able to handle what'd happened and you'd  be hard on yourself.'

She hooked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave a nervous half-laugh. 'I don't know what you mean.'

'I think you do.' He reached out and lightly touched her forehead as he  said, 'What goes on in here is different to what your body is crying out  for. The two have to agree.'

She was holding herself very straight now, her features tight as though  she dared not let any expression show. 'You're very sure of yourself,  aren't you?' she said, but her voice shook. 'Very sure you know what's  right and wrong for me.'

'I have to be.' He kept his voice even and low. 'For your sake and mine  too. I've never taken a woman who wasn't one hundred per cent sure she  wanted it as much as I did, and I don't intend to start with you.'  Especially with you. 'I don't want to hurt you, Willow. Intentionally or  unintentionally, I don't want that.'

She turned her head away as though she couldn't bear to look at him. 'I'm not a child, Morgan,' she said tightly.

'Believe me, of that I am well aware.'

'And I wouldn't allow myself to be hurt by anyone again.'

He was silent until she raised her head and met his eyes again. 'That  one sentence says it all,' he said softly. 'If you'd have said you are  prepared to take the risk of being hurt again, that life is all about  taking chances, that you were at a stage where you understood you didn't  want to be standing on the touchline looking at life but entering in,  I'd have felt you were ready. As it is, those barriers are still ten  feet high, aren't they?'

This time the silence stretched longer. 'Who are you to talk?' she said  after a full ten seconds had ticked by. 'You told me yourself you got  your fingers burnt years ago and from then on decided no long-term  commitment but just a series of affairs would do. You said you didn't  want more than that.'                       
       
           



       

He nodded. 'Yes, I did. And the pleasure of a beautiful woman's body in  bed and a mind that is stimulating and intelligent has been enough for  me.' Until now. 'But you aren't like that, Willow. You told me that. So I  come back to where I started and it's that you have to be sure in your  head as well as your body what you want. No one can make that happen but  you.'

Even in the darkness he could see her cheeks were warm. 'So why did you … ?'

Her voice trailed away but the question was clear. Morgan thought about  prevaricating, even lying. He didn't want to sound the final death knell  on this relationship that wasn't a relationship, but having come this  far … 'I wanted to sleep with you tonight because wanting you the way I do  is sweet torture,' he said evenly. 'But in the final analysis I knew I  couldn't look myself in the eyes when I shave tomorrow morning if I'd  seduced you. You said you're not a child and you're absolutely right.  You're a woman, and one who needs to know her own mind when, and if, you  take that decision. If I'd continued we both know I would have been  taking that away from you. Once it was over you would have regretted  sleeping with me tonight. Am I right?' He stared into the green eyes  steadily.

She stared back, an unreadable expression in her gaze. 'I don't know if  this is a clever ploy to convince me I can trust you,' she said at last.

Anger bit. His jaw clenched and he forced himself to relax and keep his  tone steady. 'That's something you'll have to work out for yourself.' He  stepped backwards and away from the temptation of her. 'Kitty's  expecting you for Sunday lunch. Do I tell her you're coming?' he added  flatly.

A pause. She still continued to look at him, unmoving.

His heart thumped like a gong in his chest and he couldn't seem to regulate his breathing. He had no idea how she'd react.

'As friends?' she asked quietly after what seemed like a lifetime. 'We're still talking friends here?'

He looked her straight in the eyes. 'What else?'

She smiled wanly. 'If you still want me to after tonight.'

The need to take her in his arms again was fierce, but this time the  desire was to comfort and protect. Softly, he said, 'Willow, I've been  honest with you. I want you, you know that, but if we continue as  friends and that's all there is, so be it.'

Her mouth trembled for just a second; then she turned away. 'That will  be all there is,' she said with an air of finality. 'So do you still  want me to come for lunch?'

He felt his temper starting to come alive again but something deep  inside told him it was imperative he didn't let it show. But he wasn't  going to beg. 'Like I said, that's something you'll have to work out for  yourself.'