Sweet Surrender with the Millionaire

She frowned to herself. She would have preferred he stayed in the box she’d put him in; it was far more comfortable. Determined to deflect more searching questions, as the door closed behind Kitty she said, ‘Well, now you know all about me, how about you? Ever been tempted to walk up the aisle or are you much too sensible for that? You strike me as the confirmed-bachelor sort.’

Morgan smiled as she’d meant him to. ‘I got my fingers burnt a long time ago when I was knee-high to a grasshopper,’ he said lightly. ‘I decided then I wasn’t a for-ever-after type.’

‘Then we’re two of a kind.’ That sounded too cosy and, feeling flustered, she took a big bite of her steak. It was wonderful. ‘I’m surprised you aren’t as big as a house if you eat like this all the time,’ she said, raising her head.

The piercing blue eyes were waiting for her. ‘Ah, but I’m only here weekends,’ he pointed out softly. ‘Weekdays I live in London in a very modern, functional apartment, the kitchen of which, I must confess, is rarely used.’

‘You eat out all the time?’

‘I work out at the gym most nights and they have a good restaurant, which prides itself on the healthy options. I feel I can indulge at weekends. That’s my excuse, anyway.’

‘That doesn’t sound as though you leave much time for a social life.’ The words had popped out before she realised how nosy she sounded. She just hoped he didn’t think she was prying.

There was a sexy quirk to Morgan’s mouth when he murmured, ‘Oh, I manage fairly well. On the whole.’

She just bet he did. Her gaze fell to his hand as he drank from his wineglass. His hands were like the rest of him, powerfully masculine, and his forearms were muscular and dusted with dark hair. The room was large and impressive and yet he dominated it with his presence. She could imagine he would be devastating to come up against in the business world. Devastating altogether. Not a man you could easily forget.

Even more flustered, she concentrated on her meal for the next little while, which wasn’t hard because every mouthful was heavenly. Morgan did the same, eating with obvious enjoyment and making amusing small talk, which needed very little response on her part. Nevertheless she was aware she was as taut as piano wire and conscious of every little movement from the hard male body opposite her, even when she wasn’t looking at him. He was an…unsettling man, she decided as Kitty cleared away their empty plates and brought two helpings of toffee-ripple cheesecake, Morgan’s being large enough for half a dozen people.

He saw her glance at his plate and smiled the crooked grin that was becoming familiar to her. ‘Kitty thinks I’m a growing boy. And I don’t want to disillusion her, now, do I?’

It was somehow disturbingly endearing, and to combat the quiver of something she didn’t want to put a name to Willow’s voice was deliberately dry when she said, ‘Be careful you don’t grow too much. Those extra pounds creep up on you, you know.’

‘Not me. Fast metabolism.’

‘All in the genes?’ she asked, just to make conversation and echoing what he’d said to her earlier.

‘Probably.’ His voice was pleasant but dismissive.

‘Your father’s or your mother’s?’

He stared at her for a moment and Willow saw what she could only describe as a shutter come down over the brilliant blue of his eyes in the second before he shrugged. ‘Your guess is as good as mine. They died when I was too young to remember them.’

Quickly, she said, ‘I’m sorry. Mine died a few months before I got married but I still miss them dreadfully. So does my sister. She’s expecting a baby soon and it would have been nice for Mum to be around to see her first grandchild.’ She was gabbling but the look in his eyes had thrown her. ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’ she added weakly.

He shook his head. ‘No, there’s just me. The one and only original. Like that clock you liked so much.’

Willow smiled because she knew he wanted her to and for the same reason didn’t pursue what was clearly a nogo area. Her tenseness had given her the beginning of a headache, but she felt every moment in Morgan’s company was electric so perhaps it wasn’t surprising. She didn’t think she had ever met anyone who was such an enigma.

They took coffee in the drawing room where Kitty had placed the tray on a low coffee table pulled close to the fire, a box of chocolates and another of after-dinner mints next to the white porcelain cups. When Morgan sat down on a two-seater sofa in front of the table Willow felt she had no option but to join him, anything else would have appeared churlish, but she took care no part of her body touched his.