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He gave her a long, steady look and suddenly they weren’t talking about eggs. His eyes held hers locked. ‘Go with your heart,’ he said softly. ‘Always with your heart.’
There was a silence that stretched and lengthened. ‘And if your heart lets you down and leads you astray?’ she said shakily. ‘What happens then?’
‘There’s no guarantees in life,’ Morgan acknowledged after a moment, ‘but what’s the alternative? To live in fear and never experience the freedom of casting all restraint aside?’
‘Eggs aren’t that important to me in the overall scheme of things,’ she said with forced lightness. ‘I could live without them.’
‘Pity.’ He studied her face. ‘What if you wake up one day years from now when it’s too late and you’re old and set in your ways and regret all those breakfasts you never had? What then?’
‘At least my cholesterol will be under control.’
‘And control is important to you?’ he asked smoothly.
Again he’d put his finger on the nub of the issue but this time she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. Remembering their conversation of the day before, she said carefully, ‘Probably as important as it is to you, yes.’
His mouth quirked to the side, a self-deprecating smile that intensified his attractiveness tenfold. ‘Ouch,’ he murmured lazily. ‘I guess I set myself up for that one.’
Willow slid off her chair. ‘I’ll help you clear up so all’s as it should be when Kitty comes back.’
‘No need, it won’t take a minute to load the dishwasher. Why don’t you get your bag and meet me in the hall and we’ll go to the cottage and start?’ he said easily.
Willow hesitated. She knew she didn’t want Morgan in her cottage. It was too—her mind balked at dangerous and substituted—irksome. But she also knew he’d made up his mind he was going to help.
Her expression must have spoken for itself because he said, very softly, ‘Get your bag, Willow.’
They worked like Trojans the rest of the day until late in the evening. Kitty arrived with lunch about one o’clock but apart from that they didn’t take a break. Willow had to admit Morgan did the work of ten men and by seven o’clock the cottage was cleaner than it had ever been. Morgan had thought to bring a large container of upholstery shampoo with him and her sofa and armchair were now damp but free of smuts. The new sitting-room curtains she’d bought the week before had been washed, dried in the sunshine and ironed and were now back in place at the squeaky-clean window. Ceiling, walls, floorboards and fireplace had been washed down and Morgan had even given the kitchen a once-over, although soot hadn’t penetrated too far within its walls. The bathroom door had been shut so that room hadn’t needed any attention.
Kitty had insisted she was cooking an evening meal for them when she’d brought lunch, and Willow had to admit she wasn’t sorry as she took a quick shower and washed her hair, vitally conscious of Morgan sitting on the French window steps nursing a cup of coffee. She was exhausted, the result of working flat out all day and not having slept properly the night before. Not to mention the nervous tension with being around him.
She left the bathroom cocooned from head to foot in towels and scurried up the stairs to her bedroom, even though there was no need to panic. Morgan wasn’t the type of man to take advantage. He wouldn’t have to, she thought wryly as she hastily got dressed in cream linen trousers and a jade-green cashmere top, which had cost an arm and a leg a few months ago. Morgan would have women falling over themselves to get noticed by him.
After drying her hair into a sleek curtain, she left it loose and applied the minimum of make-up, along with silver hoops in her ears. She wanted to look fresh and attractive but not as if she was trying too hard. After dabbing a few drops of her favourite perfume on her wrists she was ready. Taking a deep breath, she checked herself in the mirror. Wide green eyes stared anxiously back at her and she clicked her tongue irritably. For goodness’ sake! She looked like a scared rabbit!
Smoothing her face of all expression, she tried a light smile. That was better. She was going to have dinner with him, that was all, and once tonight was over it was doubtful they’d run into each other again. In fact she’d make sure they didn’t. Morgan was only in residence at weekends and she could avoid being home until late for the next little while. The planning office was crying out for a few folk to work Saturdays on a new project in Redditch, and on Sundays she could catch up with friends and visit Beth. It would all work out just fine.
