Sweet Surrender with the Millionaire

Morgan clenched his teeth but when he spoke his voice was cool and controlled. ‘No, Kitty, she didn’t.’

‘Pity.’ Kitty sucked her breath through her teeth. ‘Pity.’

‘Pity?’ Even as he told himself not to bite, he responded.

‘I think so. She seems a nice young lady.’

‘Ah, but I go for the bad ones, Kitty. You should know that by now.’ He grinned at her with a lecherous wink.

Kitty treated his mockery with the contempt it deserved and ignored it as she plonked Morgan’s breakfast in front of him. ‘So when are you seeing her again?’ she said stolidly.

Morgan deliberately finished the last of his coffee before he said, ‘I’ve no idea. When she needs rescuing from a burning building or something similar? That seems to be the pattern.’

Kitty surveyed him, hands on hips. Even her apron seemed to rustle with indignation. ‘You didn’t arrange to see her again? A lovely young woman like that? Why ever not?’

He had asked himself the same question countless times and the answer didn’t sit well with him. Willow had the potential to complicate his autonomous controlled life and he needed that sort of aggravation like a hole in the head. In fact it scared the hell out of him. Pouring himself more coffee, he said casually, ‘Why would I arrange to see her, Kitty? She’s a neighbour who needed a helping hand, that’s the only reason she came here in the first place.’ He took a sip and burnt his mouth.

‘Maybe, but she did come and you seemed to get on well.’

Get on well? He was drawn to Willow with a strength that he hadn’t felt before and that was the very reason he had to avoid contact. Shrugging, he murmured, ‘She was polite and grateful, but I think getting on well might be pushing it a bit. Besides which—’ He stopped abruptly. Was it wise to go on?

‘What?’ Kitty’s ears pricked up immediately.

‘Nothing.’ And then he decided to tell her. If nothing else it might stop her infernal matchmaking. ‘She’s not in the market for any sort of relationship, as it happens. She was married and I gather the divorce wasn’t an amicable one. Once burnt, twice shy. She doesn’t date and she intends to keep it that way.’

Kitty snorted. ‘Poppycock. The lass might be a bit wary, but that’s better than some of these brazen types that are around these days. That’s the one thing I can’t abide in a woman, brazenness.’

What she meant was the brazen types he dated, Morgan thought wryly, being fully aware of Kitty’s opinion of his lifestyle and in particular his women. He unfolded his Sunday paper, signifying the conversation was at an end, his voice dismissive when he said coolly, ‘She’s a neighbour, that’s all, Kitty. And I’ll have a round of toast to go with the bacon and eggs, please.’

For once Kitty wasn’t playing ball. Folding her arms across her plump little stomach, she said grimly, ‘You let this one go and you’ll regret it, m’lad. That’s all I’m saying.’

For crying out loud! His tone deliberately weary, he said, ‘I can’t let go of what I don’t have. End of story.’ And he raised the newspaper in front of his face.

He didn’t enjoy his breakfast and the paper was full of rubbish. Irritable and out of sorts, he decided to take the dogs for a long walk to blow away the cobwebs and get himself back on course so he could work that afternoon.

Pulling on a leather jacket, he whistled the dogs and left the house a few minutes later. There was a pleasing nip in the air, foretelling the frosts that were sure to come later in the month. The October day was fresh and bright, shallow sparkles of sunshine warming the fields that stretched either side of the lane beyond his house. He walked in the opposite direction to Willow’s cottage and the village, a host of magpies in the trees bordering the lane chattering across the autumn sky.

Shortly after leaving his property, he turned off the lane onto a footpath that led between fields recently ploughed under the stubble of the old wheat crop, the dogs gambolling ahead but taking care to stay on the footpath like the well-trained animals they were. The landscape was already turning into a glorious world of golden tints from copper to orange and Morgan stood for a moment, breathing in the sharp air and looking up into a blue sky, which until recently had been full of swallows gathering together ready to migrate and screaming their goodbyes.

Everything was fine. He nodded to the thought. Nothing had changed. His world was ticking along nicely and under his control.

He continued to tell himself this throughout the rest of the walk and by the time he returned home he was ready for his Sunday lunch. He ate a hearty portion of Kitty’s Yorkshire pudding and roast beef with roast potatoes that were crisp on the outside and feathery soft on the inside, and disappeared into his study for the rest of the afternoon. By the time he re-emerged as a golden autumn twilight was falling he had the facts and figures of the papers he’d been studying clear in his head.