Sweet Surrender with the Millionaire Read Online Free PDF Page B

cold.’
    Willow was glad he was already opening the door and she didn’t have to reply. For the life of her she couldn’t have said if it was the icy night air making her tremble or the enforced intimacy with the very male man at her side. And he smelt delicious, the sort of delicious that would cost a small fortune for a few mls and definitely came courtesy of a designer label.
    Contrary to what she had expected the dogs didn’t come at them pell-mell but in an orderly group that sat at their feet without any jostling. ‘I’ll introduce you and you cangive the obligatory pat—that way they’ll know you’re a friend and off the menu. They never eat my friends.’
    Morgan’s lazy tone and the laughter in his eyes informed her he was well aware of her unease and enjoying it. Willow looked at him coldly. She didn’t know why but everything about Morgan Wright irritated her, ungrateful though that was in the circumstances. Criminally ungrateful, to be truthful.
    Introductions finished, the pack padded off led by the large female called Bella, much to Willow’s relief. It wasn’t that she disliked dogs but she’d never had anything to do with them, either as a child or an adult. Her mother had been allergic to most types of pet hair and although she and Beth had had a hamster each, which they had kept in their bedrooms, it wasn’t the same as an animal free to roam like these dogs. And they were so big, especially their jaws. In fact they resembled wolves more than pet dogs, in her opinion. She gazed after them, her eyes taking in the luxury of her surroundings from the pale wood floor to the beautiful paintings adorning the cream walls in the massive hall. Everything was perfect.
    She suddenly became aware that Morgan was looking at her with unconcealed appraisal. ‘Freckles,’ he said, as though that made up the sum total of her appearance. ‘Lots of them.’
    She inwardly winced. The hundreds of freckles that covered most of her creamy skin had been the bane of her life from when she was first teased about them at nursery school. Reminding herself that he was going the extra mile in being neighbourly and that he had probably saved her cottage—if not her life—this night, she forced herself to smile and say, ‘Goes with the hair, I’m afraid. But you learn to live with what you can’t change.’
    ‘You don’t like them? I do.’ He continued to study her.
    If he were covered in an infinity of them he might think differently. Willow shrugged. ‘There’s worse things to contend with than freckles.’ Much worse.
    His gaze hadn’t left her face. ‘And your eyes are truly green without a fleck of brown. Unusual.’
    She wasn’t about to stand there like a lemon submitting to his scrutiny. Moving past him, she looked to where a magnificent winding staircase led to a galleried first floor. ‘This is a beautiful house. How long have you lived here?’
    ‘Just over ten years.’ It was as if she had reminded him to play the host as he added, ‘Can I get you a drink or would you like that bath first? Or both, come to it.’
    ‘The bath, please.’ The bright lighting in the hall had brought an awareness that her jeans and jumper were covered in soot and she must look like something the cat had dragged in. Morgan’s jeans and shirt were bearing evidence of the events of the evening too. Somehow, though, he still looked good.
    ‘I think I’ll join you.’ As her eyes shot to meet his a dawning mockery in the blue gaze made it clear that he knew the conclusion she’d jumped to. ‘Not literally, of course,’ he added smoothly. ‘You in your bath and me in mine.’
    The second bane of her life, which again went with the red hair, rushed in on a tide of crimson. She didn’t blush quite so readily these days but this one was a corker and she knew it. ‘Of course,’ she managed with a coolness that was rendered null and void by her beetroot face. ‘What else?’
    ‘What else indeed.’ He smiled