Sweet Surrender with the Millionaire

Not that she expected Morgan to try and see her. Why would he? He was way out of her league in every way. But she didn’t want him to think she was hanging around at weekends in the hope of bumping into him. That would be the ultimate humiliation.

Neurotic. The word vibrated in her head from some deep recess in her psyche and she pulled a face at the girl in the mirror before turning away defiantly. She wasn’t neurotic, she argued silently, but even if she was she’d prefer that than Morgan Wright thinking she was interested in him.

Morgan was still sitting on the steps when she walked into the sitting room, his head resting on the side of one of the open French doors and his eyes shut. He hadn’t had the advantage of a shower and the shirt that had been white that morning was white no longer. She had approached noiselessly and now she stood for a moment looking at him. The hair, which was longer than average for a man—or certainly a businessman—had flicked up slightly on his collar and he had smudges of dirt on his face. Beneath the shirt hard muscles showed across his chest and shoulders and his forearms were sinewy beneath their coating of soft black hair. He looked more like someone who spent his days working outside than anything else. Tough, strong, brawny. Even slightly rough and hard-bitten. Piers had been tall but slender and even beautiful in a classical Adonis sort of way.

Shocked by the knowledge that she was comparing the two of them, she must have made a noise because the next moment the brilliant blue eyes had opened. ‘What’s the matter?’ He was instantly on the alert, rising to his feet with an animal grace that belied her earlier thoughts. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Nothing.’ She forced a smile. ‘Nothing at all.’

‘Nothing? Willow, you were staring at me as though I was the devil incarnate.’

‘Of course I wasn’t.’ Somehow she managed to keep any shakiness out of her voice and smile. ‘You imagined it.’

His expression hardened. ‘Tell me,’ he said flatly.

‘There’s nothing to tell. I…I was thinking your office staff might have a job to recognise their immaculately turned out boss tonight, that’s all.’ It was weak but all she could think of.

‘I don’t believe you.’ His blue eyes searched her face, demanding the truth. ‘What have I done to make you look like that? Forgive me, but I think I’ve a right to know.’

‘Nothing. Really, you haven’t, you know you haven’t. You—you’ve been very kind.’ He wasn’t buying it. ‘Very kind.’

‘So tell me,’ he said again. ‘What were you thinking?’

Willow stared at him helplessly. ‘I was thinking of my ex-husband, ’ she admitted flatly, knowing he wouldn’t like it.

Morgan’s eyes narrowed to blue slits. ‘From the little you’ve said about him it’s no compliment you look at me and see him. Are we similar to look at? Is that it?’

‘No, that’s not it. At least, what I mean is, you don’t remind me of him. Just the opposite, in fact.’

She could tell he was unconvinced even before he folded his arms and said stiffly, ‘So what brought him to mind?’

Inwardly groaning, she sought for the right words. ‘Piers was very handsome,’ she said slowly. ‘And charming.’

He stared at her. ‘Willow, this isn’t getting any better.’

‘What I mean is, it was all false. A front. The real Piers—’ She shook her head, shuddering in spite of herself.

Willow wasn’t aware of him moving and taking her into his arms, it happened so quickly, but amazingly she didn’t fight the embrace but sank into it, closing her eyes as she rested against his chest. She felt his mouth on the top of her head in the lightest of kisses before he murmured, ‘Don’t look like that. He can’t hurt you any more, it’s over. He has no hold on you now, Willow.’

‘I know.’ She did know, but occasionally the memory of that last terrible night in their apartment would take over despite all her efforts to keep it at bay. Maybe Beth was right. Perhaps she should have seen a counsellor and talked things through with someone trained to help in such cases, but she had been determined to rise above the tag of victim. She still was. And as Morgan had just said, it was over now. He couldn’t hurt her any more.

Making a desperate effort to pull herself together and both shocked and mortified at how the evening had degenerated into something much too raw, she moved out of Morgan’s arms as she said, ‘You’re not like him in any way, that’s what I was thinking. I promise. Not in looks or anything else.’