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The dogs were sprawled in the hall when he padded downstairs, his bare feet making no sound. Bella raised her head, wagged her tail and settled down to sleep again and the rest of the pack—as always—followed her lead. As he approached the kitchen he saw a dim light shining from under the door and, forewarned, opened the door quietly. She was sitting on one of the stools at the island in the center of the room sipping at a mug of something or other. The sight of her—her slim figure wrapped in a white towelling robe and her shining mass of hair loose about her shoulders—took his breath away for a moment. ‘Willow?’ he murmured softly. ‘Is everything all right?’
The jump she gave almost sent her off the stool and onto the floor as she swung round to face him. ‘Morgan, I didn’t hear you.’
‘Sorry.’ He raised his hand placatingly. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just going to get myself some coffee.’
‘No, no, that’s OK, you didn’t startle me.’
He clearly had. She still looked scared to death.
‘I—I couldn’t sleep,’ she stammered. ‘Strange bed. I thought I’d make myself some hot milk.’
Hot milk. He could give her something much more satisfyingthan hot milk to help her sleep. There was nothing like a long bout of lovemaking to relax tense muscles. ‘I couldn’t sleep either but in my case it’s not the bed,’ he said blandly. ‘My solution was going to be coffee and work.’ He waved his hand vaguely in the direction of his study.
She was as flushed as if she’d read his illicit thoughts, her eyes dropping to the mug in her hand. She had small hands, he thought, although her fingers were long and slender. Nice nails. Long but not too long. How would it feel to have them rake his back gently in the moment he brought her to a climax? To have her moan and pulse beneath him? To cry out as he tasted and pleased her until her thighs shook and she sobbed his name in utter aban-donment? They would be good together; he knew it.
His erection pulsed, almost painfully so, and conscious the towelling robe did little to hide his arousal he kept his back to her while he fixed himself a pot of coffee, making small talk as he did so. Hell, what a situation to be in. In spite of himself he wanted to smile. If anyone had told him a few weeks ago he’d be lusting after a woman to the point of making a damn fool of himself—a woman who wasn’t remotely interested in him, incidentally—he’d have told them they were crazy.
Once his body was under his control again, he reached for a cake tin and opened it to reveal one of Kitty’s unsurpassable moist fruit cakes. ‘Fancy a slice?’ he asked as he turned and showed Willow the cake. ‘It’s second to none. I can guarantee you won’t taste fruit cake like this again.’
‘You’ve convinced me.’
She smiled such a friendly smile it made him feel a swine for his lecherous thoughts.
He cut them both a generous portion and joined her on the other stool. After her first bite, she said, ‘It is fabulous. I thought my mother had the record for fruit cake but Kitty would have given her a run for her money.’
‘What happened with your parents?’ he asked softly. ‘Was it an accident?’
She nodded, her silky hair fanning her cheeks. Quietly and softly she told him the details and, although her voice was matter-of-fact, the pain in her eyes told its own story. He didn’t like how it affected him. He didn’t like how she affected him, but he reminded himself it didn’t really matter in the scheme of things. The circumstances that had thrown them together this weekend were unlikely to be repeated, and as long as he kept his lurid thoughts—and his hands—to himself, there was no harm done. Apart from a few sleepless nights perhaps.
Aiming to bring the conversation and her thoughts to happier things, he said quietly, ‘You said your sister is expecting a baby soon. How does it feel knowing you’ll be an aunty? Are you looking forward to it?’
She smiled, wiping a crumb from the fruit cake from the corner of her lips, and as his gaze followed the action his traitorous body responded sharply, causing his breath to catch in his throat.
‘I can’t wait,’ she said with genuine warmth, ‘but at the same time it doesn’t feel quite real. I mean, Beth’s my sister, the person I argued and fought and shared secrets with over the years. Her stomach’s getting bigger and she’s developed an obsession for chocolate and cherry muffins, but it’s hard to believe there’s a little person in there. Does that sound silly?’
Secretly enchanted she had let her guard down for once, Morgan shook his head. ‘Not at all. I’m a mere man, don’t forget. I find the whole process baffling. Well, apart from the beginning, of course. I worked out the birds and the bees some time ago.’
