The moment the door had closed behind Mr George, Morgan looked straight at her and for a moment she suspected he was as nervous as she was. Then she dismissed the notion. Morgan Wright didn’t have a nervous bone in his body.
‘So,’ he murmured softly as though the last hour hadn’t happened and they were continuing their conversation in the kitchen. ‘This is the problem as I see it.’
Willow found she didn’t like being referred to as a problem. It gave her the strength to stare at him without betraying any emotion and keep her voice steady as she said coolly, ‘Problem?’
He’d obviously read her mind and the faintly stern mouth curved upward in a crooked smile. ‘Difficulty,’ he amended equably. ‘We’re neighbours. Next-door neighbours, ’ he added, as though she didn’t know. ‘Which means the possibility of running into each other now and again is pretty high.’
She didn’t agree. He made it sound as though they lived side by side in a terrace rather than with an acre or two of his grounds separating them, not to mention a high stone wall one way and the lane the other. She opened her mouth to voice this but he didn’t give her the chance.
‘But that’s not really the…difficulty,’ he continued. ‘There’s an attraction between us, you know it and I know it. We enjoy each other’s company.’ He raised his hand as she went to speak again. ‘But here’s the problem. Sorry, difficulty. You’ve just come out of a bad relationship and aren’t looking to have a man in your life. Right?’
She nodded, but now she was determined he wasn’t going to have this all his own way. ‘And you don’t do emotional commitment beyond the short-term affair,’ she said tightly. ‘Which I find…cold-blooded.’
‘But you didn’t deny there is an attraction between us,’ he said very quietly, his blue eyes holding hers.
No, she hadn’t. She should have, but she hadn’t.
He walked to where she was still standing by the front door, not touching her but so close she was enveloped in his body warmth. ‘Like I said earlier, I’ve thought of you all week.’ His jaw tensed a few times before he added, ‘Awake or asleep. That’s not—usual with me.’
He lifted a strand of her hair, letting it shiver through his fingers almost absent-mindedly. ‘I’m in London during the week, you’re in Redditch, but at the weekends we could see each other sometimes. Nothing heavy, I’m not suggesting I expect you to warm my bed, although you’d be very welcome if so inclined,’ he added smokily. ‘More than welcome, in fact.’
‘I—That—that wouldn’t be on the cards.’
He smiled, a sexy quirk that did nothing to quell her raging hormones. ‘I thought not, but bear the invitation in mind,’ he murmured lazily. ‘It’s open-ended.’
He was flirting with her. Willow found the warm fragrance of him was making her legs tremble. And he flirted very well. Obviously plenty of practice, she told herself, danger signals going off loud and strong. ‘I—I thought I’d made it clear, I don’t want to date. Not after everything that’s happened.’
‘Oh, you did, you did. Very clear.’
She drew in a deep breath as his fingertips moved against her lower ribs, his palms cupping her sides. It wasn’t an aggressive action, just the opposite, but as his strength and vitality flowed through his warm flesh she felt as panic-stricken as if he were making love to her.
‘But surely there’s nothing wrong in enjoying each other’s company now and again?’ Morgan continued in a softly cajoling voice that played havoc with her power to reason. ‘I expect nothing of you and you expect nothing of me. We can just see how it goes. Take it nice and easy. What do you think?’
She couldn’t think with him touching her. He was so tough and hard and sexy that the temptation to lay her head against his chest and agree to anything he wanted was strong. She wanted to be looked after, loved, adored, spoilt, all the things she’d made herself say goodbye to for ever long before she and Piers had split. But there was no guarantee a relationship with Morgan would be any better. Piers had been charm itself before he’d married her. She’d learnt the hard way that meant nothing.
She became aware he was studying her with narrowed eyes. ‘I’m not your ex-husband,’ he said quietly. ‘Get that straight in your head, Willow. I like you. I’d like to make love to you, I’m not going to deny it, but I play fair. You know I don’t do for ever and that won’t change. If friends is all we have, then so be it. You never know, this spark between us might burn itself out in time. What do they say? Familiarity breeds contempt? Togetherness can be a two-edged sword.’