Sweet Surrender with the Millionaire

‘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.’

She had reached her front door and he watched her insert the key in the lock before she turned to face him again. Before she could speak, he said, ‘Goodnight, Willow. Sleep well,’ and turned from the sight of her.

He was actually half in the car when she shouted, ‘What time is lunch?’

Over his shoulder, he called casually, ‘One or thereabouts. And bring boots and a waterproof coat; we’ll be walking the dogs in the afternoon.’ And without waiting for a reply he shut the car door and started the engine. By the time he had done a three-point turn there was no sign of her.

He stopped the car just before the turn into his drive and sat in the darkness, trying to get his head round what had just happened. His emotions were in turmoil and for the life of him he didn’t know if he had just made the best or the worst decision of his life. One thing he did know. He loved her. And loving her he had to let her go to either love him back one day or walk away from him.

He continued to sit for a long time and when he finally started the car again, his face was damp.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

WILLOW was painfully nervous when Morgan opened the door to her the next day. He’d called her mobile phone earlier that morning to see if she was all right and the conversation had been stilted, at least on her part, she admitted miserably. Morgan had seemed his usual cool, faintly amused self. But then he probably hadn’t tossed and turned the night away before finally giving up any thoughts of sleep as dawn broke. He was a man after all, she thought viciously, and they were a different species. Logical, cold, control freaks. Only Morgan wasn’t like that and she knew it. Or did she? She’d thought Piers was the genuine article, hadn’t she? Not exactly ten out of ten there, then.

So the arguments had gone round and round in her head until it was actually a relief when lunchtime approached and she went to face the wolf in his lair. Or that was what it felt like.

‘Hi.’ He was smiling with his eyes as well as his mouth as he opened the door to her, and before she could protest he’d kissed her swiftly on the mouth before taking her coat. ‘Come and have a drink,’ he said easily once she’d finished fussing the dogs. ‘Sherry, wine or one of my famous cocktails?’

It was impossible to remain on edge for long; Morgan had a witty and slightly wicked sense of humour and within a short time she was laughing at something he’d said and the atmosphere had diffused. By the time he saw her home under a moonlit sky things were back to normal.

Or were they? Willow asked herself later that night, curled up in bed but wide awake in spite of the sleepless hours the night before. Like it or not, their relationship had gone a little deeper, moved up a gear, call it what you would. He’d kissed her warmly on the doorstep but hadn’t prolonged the contact, taking the key from her fingers and opening the door for her as the kiss ended, and pushing her gently into the house as he’d blown her one last kiss before shutting the door. She had stood immobile for some moments, overwhelmed by such mixed feelings she wouldn’t have been able to name any one as uppermost. Regret, longing, confusion, relief, but overall a curious kind of restlessness, which was compounded by the fact she wouldn’t see Morgan for another five days.

And she wanted to see him. A rush of longing swept through her, intensifying to a physical ache as she stared into the quiet darkness. How would she feel if he suddenly said he didn’t want to see her any more? If he’d had enough of this ‘friendship’?

She clenched her muscles against the rawness of the thought, then forced herself to slowly relax. She’d cope, she’d survive. She’d got through the break-up of her marriage, hadn’t she? And nothing could be worse than that.