Sweet Surrender with the Millionaire

They were walking home as the sun set, the dogs gambolling in front of them in spite of having had a five-mile walk. Fleeting wisps of silver tinged the pink mother-of-pearl sky and the weather forecast had spoken of imminent snow. As they cut across a ploughed field towards the lane and home, the flash of a pheasant’s iridescent plumage lit the sky as the bird rose just in front of the lead dog and flew into the air, squawking loudly in protest at being disturbed.

They stopped, and as Willow watched the pheasant disappear into a small copse some distance away, she murmured, ‘Thank goodness it got away, I’d have hated for the dogs to kill it.’

Morgan nodded. ‘So would I, but that’s part of life in the country, I’m afraid.’

She glanced at him. ‘And you would have been able to look at it like that? If the worst had happened?’

‘You can’t take instinct out of the dogs or the bird,’ he said reasonably. ‘The dogs will chase for the fun of it and the bird will flutter and excite them as it flies. They’re being what they are and doing what they’re programmed to do.’

‘The age-old argument,’ she muttered under her breath, but just loud enough for him to hear.

‘I’m sorry?’ He’d caught the sarcasm and as she met his gaze she saw the change in his eyes, the sudden wariness.

‘The age-old argument the male population trot out to excuse all manner of things,’ she said steadily, her heart thumping hard. ‘You don’t even realise you’re doing it, do you?’

They had stopped walking and she raised her chin slightly as he studied her. ‘I’ve never “trotted” anything out in my life, Willow. Nor do I hide behind excuses for my actions.’

‘No?’ She forced a disbelieving smile. ‘I thought the nature thing all led up to most males’ favourite theory, that it’s unnatural for them to be monogamous? The old “bee gathering pollen from umpteen flowers” philosophy.’

A muscle twitched in Morgan’s jaw. ‘What’s the matter?’

She tossed her head. ‘Nothing’s the matter.’

‘I’ve obviously upset you in some way,’ he said with infuriating calmness. ‘I’m asking how.’

‘I’m not upset. I’m just stating what is a well-known fact. Men in general are incapable of being faithful to one woman for the whole of their lives. I think it’s something like eighty per cent or more will have an affair of some kind or other, even if their wife or long-term partner never finds out. And the most well-worn excuse is that they couldn’t help it and it didn’t mean anything, it was mere physical attraction.’

‘Well, it looks as though I’ve learnt something more about that slimeball you married,’ Morgan said coolly.

She drew in a gasp of shock. Whatever reaction she’d expected, it wasn’t this. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘I think you do. Faithfulness wasn’t one of his strong points.’

Willow stuffed her hands in the pockets of her coat and said overloudly, ‘Every opinion I have doesn’t relate back to Piers. I do actually have a mind of my own.’

The blue eyes glittered in the fading pearly light. ‘Then I suggest you start using it.’

Her eyes widened. ‘I beg your pardon?’ she said angrily.

‘You met and married one of life’s emotional rejects and he put you through hell until you finished it. It was a mistake and we all make them. Deal with it and move on.’

Her life summed up Morgan-style. The anger was welcome; it provided the adrenalin needed to fight back. She glared at him. ‘I don’t need you to tell me how to conduct my life.’

‘I think you do, because no one else can get near enough, can they? You’ve made sure of that. Even Beth watches what she says around you.’

‘She does not!’ She’d never been so furious. ‘And what do you know about my relationship with my sister any-way? You’ve only met her once. Hardly a basis to judge anything by.’

The look on his face alerted her to the fact she’d inadvertently stumbled on something. She stared at him for a moment that seemed to stretch and swell. The dogs had gathered in a puzzled group about their legs, sensing all was not well.

‘You’ve been talking to Beth,’ she said flatly. ‘Haven’t you?’

He didn’t deny it. ‘I can talk to whomever I like.’

‘You’ve been discussing me with my sister? How dare you, Morgan? How dare you contact Beth and talk to her about me?’

‘As you have been so at pains to point out over the last little while, we’re free, independent spirits, Willow,’ he said with heavy sarcasm. ‘That means I can do what I like, when I like and with whom. Or have I got that wrong?’