Sweet Surrender with the Millionaire by Helen Brooks Page A

then feel miffed when he did exactly that. She was being monumentally unfair and capriciousand unreasonable, but why hadn’t he mentioned seeing her again? Why had he just walked off without a word?
    Because you’re just the neighbour he helped out.
    She lifted one shoulder in answer to the thought, the motion defensive, almost aggressive. In that case he’d had no right to kiss her as he had, had he? She took a long pull at the coffee, scalding hot though it was. He hadn’t; it had been grossly unfair.
    She was being ridiculous. He’d explained that kiss as one of those things that happened now and again between members of the opposite sex, and that was what it had been. It wasn’t his fault that it had been the most devastatingly, incredible, amazing experience of her life and had left her wanting much, much more.
    Her heart jolted violently and then jump-started itself into a machine-gun gallop. She put her hands to her chest as though to calm it down, her mind racing.
    No, no, no. She shut her eyes tightly as she struggled for calm. He had said friends and that was exactly what their relationship— relationship? —was. Friends. Neighbours. Nothing more. Nothing less. Anything more would be disastrous.
    She opened her eyes. The blue tits were back, having been disturbed temporarily when she’d gone to fetch her second cup of coffee. They twittered happily, positively frolicking on the nuts.
    She had no right to feel let down. No right at all, and yet she did. More than she could have imagined. Which only proved she had been absolutely right when she had told herself that Morgan Wright was dangerous and to be avoided.
    ‘So she didn’t stay another night?’ Kitty said disapprovingly.
    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