Sweet Surrender with the Millionaire by Helen Brooks

Author:Helen Brooks [Brooks, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2010-12-22T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘SO YOU slept at his place after he’d charged in on his white horse—’

‘Harley, actually. Great brute of a thing.’

‘His white horse and rescued you,’ Beth went on, undeterred by Willow’s dry tone. ‘And then the guy helps you clean the cottage, invites you back to his place for another great meal—’

‘It was Kitty who invited me back, to be strictly truthful.’

‘And then turns up the next evening and takes you out to dinner! And you say he’s only being neighbourly? Come on, Willow, get real. From what you’ve told me he isn’t some geek or other who’s starved for female company and fastens onto the first woman he gets friendly with. The guy’s a player, and hot, obviously. And don’t wrinkle your nose like that.’

‘Well, don’t use such terminology, then. You’ve never even met him.’ Willow stared at her sister indignantly. ‘A player!’

‘Does he or does he not have an active social life?’

‘I guess.’ She nodded. ‘Yes, course he does.’

‘And does he give you the impression of being celibate?’

Willow stared helplessly at her sister. Several days had passed since the last meal with Morgan and she had filled them with work, work and more work, staying late at the office and getting in to work early. Arriving home exhausted helped her sleep and prevented endless postmortems on the hours with Morgan. ‘You’ve got the wrong idea about this,’ she said at last. ‘Honestly, Beth, you’ve got totally the wrong idea.’

Beth surveyed her sister over the rim of her mug of hot chocolate. It was Friday lunchtime and Willow had popped in for a quick snack and a chat, although the chat had turned into the third degree for which Beth made no apology. ‘So what’s the right idea?’ she asked, setting her mug down.

She wished she knew, Willow thought ruefully. She didn’t know which end of her was up, but she couldn’t very well tell Beth that. She didn’t want to get involved with a man—any man—but since she’d got to know Morgan better due to the events of last weekend she couldn’t get him out of her mind and it was driving her mad. Furthermore, she had been both elated and terrified when he’d turned up last Sunday, worrying all night at the pub that he was going to make a move on her when he saw her home, and then being devastated when he said goodbye with a chaste kiss on her cheek. How was that for inconsistency?

Taking a breath, she said calmly, ‘I told you, Beth. Morgan’s a neighbour, that’s all. A friend. Someone to have a drink with.’

‘Has he kissed you?’ Then Beth gave a little squeal. ‘He has, hasn’t he? He’s kissed you.’

It was useless to deny it with the flood of hot colour staining her cheeks. ‘Once, with the sort of kiss you mean, and we both agreed it was a mistake and that was the end of that.’

‘Was that before or after he turned up on your doorstep and took you to the pub?’ Beth asked very intensely.

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