Sweet Surrender with the Millionaire

Introductions finished, the pack padded off led by the large female called Bella, much to Willow’s relief. It wasn’t that she disliked dogs but she’d never had anything to do with them, either as a child or an adult. Her mother had been allergic to most types of pet hair and although she and Beth had had a hamster each, which they had kept in their bedrooms, it wasn’t the same as an animal free to roam like these dogs. And they were so big, especially their jaws. In fact they resembled wolves more than pet dogs, in her opinion. She gazed after them, her eyes taking in the luxury of her surroundings from the pale wood floor to the beautiful paintings adorning the cream walls in the massive hall. Everything was perfect.

She suddenly became aware that Morgan was looking at her with unconcealed appraisal. ‘Freckles,’ he said, as though that made up the sum total of her appearance. ‘Lots of them.’

She inwardly winced. The hundreds of freckles that covered most of her creamy skin had been the bane of her life from when she was first teased about them at nursery school. Reminding herself that he was going the extra mile in being neighbourly and that he had probably saved her cottage—if not her life—this night, she forced herself to smile and say, ‘Goes with the hair, I’m afraid. But you learn to live with what you can’t change.’

‘You don’t like them? I do.’ He continued to study her.

If he were covered in an infinity of them he might think differently. Willow shrugged. ‘There’s worse things to contend with than freckles.’ Much worse.

His gaze hadn’t left her face. ‘And your eyes are truly green without a fleck of brown. Unusual.’

She wasn’t about to stand there like a lemon submitting to his scrutiny. Moving past him, she looked to where a magnificent winding staircase led to a galleried first floor. ‘This is a beautiful house. How long have you lived here?’

‘Just over ten years.’ It was as if she had reminded him to play the host as he added, ‘Can I get you a drink or would you like that bath first? Or both, come to it.’

‘The bath, please.’ The bright lighting in the hall had brought an awareness that her jeans and jumper were covered in soot and she must look like something the cat had dragged in. Morgan’s jeans and shirt were bearing evidence of the events of the evening too. Somehow, though, he still looked good.

‘I think I’ll join you.’ As her eyes shot to meet his a dawning mockery in the blue gaze made it clear that he knew the conclusion she’d jumped to. ‘Not literally, of course,’ he added smoothly. ‘You in your bath and me in mine.’

The second bane of her life, which again went with the red hair, rushed in on a tide of crimson. She didn’t blush quite so readily these days but this one was a corker and she knew it. ‘Of course,’ she managed with a coolness that was rendered null and void by her beetroot face. ‘What else?’

‘What else indeed.’ He smiled gently.

Hateful man. OK, he might have the good Samaritan thing down to a fine art, but he hadn’t stopped laughing at her since the first moment they’d met, except when he was yelling insults, that was. He’d already made it quite clear he thought she was the original hare-brained female, and she wasn’t. She wasn’t. She had survived a destructive marriage and built a new life for herself, and that alone merited enough Brownie points to fill the ocean. Several oceans on several planets.

‘I’ll show you your room.’ Morgan’s voice was pleasant and Willow nodded her head with what she hoped was dignified hauteur. She thought she saw his lips twist, but maybe not.

He stood aside for her to precede him when they reached the staircase, and she found she had almost forgotten how to walk as she climbed the stairs. Her jeans were old and had shrunk to fit her body like a comfortable second skin, but it didn’t feel so comfortable with the laser-like blue eyes behind her. The old adage of ‘does my bum look big in this?’ was at the forefront of her mind with each step. It didn’t make for easy walking.

When they reached the wide gracious landing Morgan led her to the first door on their left, pausing and opening it before he said, ‘You should find everything you need in the en-suite and there’s a robe and slippers in the wardrobe.’

‘Thank you.’ She smiled politely. ‘You’re very kind.’

‘See you downstairs later for that drink.’

She nodded, fairly scuttling into the bedroom and shutting the door behind her. Only then did she let out her breath in a long sigh. She’d been mad to come here; whatever had possessed her? She didn’t do things like this. She had always envied people who acted impulsively and took risks, knowing she was the exact opposite herself. Not that spending the night at a neighbour’s house in such circumstances was exactly a risk…