Sweet Surrender with the Millionaire by Helen Brooks Read Free Book Online Page B

while we were pulling the punters in. The tips were great too; lots of rich Americans looking for some fun and entertainment with their drinks.’
    ‘Lady Americans?’ she enquired too casually.
    His smile deepened. ‘Is that disapproval in your voice?’
    ‘Of course not.’ She tossed her head. ‘Why would it be?’
    He watched with interest as her blush became brilliant. Putting her out of her misery, he busied himself fixing his second Negroni as he said casually, ‘Myself and the other guy in the bar were propositioned now and again as it happens. Ladies looking for a holiday fling with no strings attached, mainly.’
    He turned and saw the look on her face before she could hide it. His voice amused, he drawled, ‘You’re shocked.’
    This time she didn’t deny it. After taking a sip of her drink, she said, ‘It’s your life.’
    He decided not to tell her he’d got a steady girlfriend at the time and had left the women to his friend who’d worked with him. This idea she’d got of him being an English gigolo was too entertaining. ‘And it’s been a rich one to date,’ he said, deadpan.
    This time she almost gulped at her cocktail.
    It was mean perhaps, but he found he got a buzz from teasing her, probably because he’d felt off kilter since the first time he’d set eyes on his red-haired neighbour. Ridiculous, but Willow Landon bothered him deep inside, in a small private place no one ever reached. It was irritating and inconvenient, he told himself, but it would pass. Everything did.
    ‘So you’ve been here ten years?’ Her voice sounded a little desperate as she made an obvious attempt to change the subject. ‘You’re not bored yet? No plans to leave?’
    ‘None.’ He gestured for her to be seated as he added, ‘Disappointed?’ just to rile her a little more.
    ‘Why would I be concerned whether you live here or not?’ she said stiffly, sitting primly on the edge of a chair.
    Her skin was the colour of honey peppered with spice and the red hair was a combination of endless shades. Fighting the urge to touch her, Morgan walked to the chair furthest from Willow’s and sat down, stretching out his legs and taking a swig of his Negroni. There was a short silence and as he looked at her he found he’d tired of the game. Leaning forward suddenly, he said quietly, ‘We got off to a bad start, didn’t we? And it hasn’t improved since. Can we come to a truce? I promise I’ll try not to annoy you if you try and relax a little. If nothing else it will make life easier the next time I rescue you from a burning building or whatever.’
    For a moment he thought she was going to freeze him out. Then a shy smile warmed her face, her eyes. ‘Do you think there’s going to be a next time?’ she murmured ruefully. And before he could answer, went on, ‘In spite of my track record so far I promise I’m not an arsonist in the making.’
    He grinned. ‘I never thought you were. Unlucky maybe…’
    She inclined her head. ‘Thank you for that—you could in all honesty have said stupid. It must appear that way.’
    His smile died, a slight frown taking its place. ‘Why would I be so crass? We all make mistakes. Life is a series of learning curves. It’s when we don’t learn from them the problems start.’
    She nodded, but as Morgan stared at her there was something deep and dark in the clear green eyes that disturbed him. ‘You don’t believe that?’ he asked gently.
    She finished her cocktail before she spoke and a slow heat had crept into her cheeks. ‘ I believe it. It’s just that…’
    ‘Yes?’ he prompted quietly, wanting to know more.
    ‘I suppose I’ve found others aren’t so generous. Some people expect other people to be perfect all the time.’
    Some people? It had to be a man who had hurt her enough to cause that depth of pain. Telling himself to go lightly, he said softly, ‘I guess you get flawed individuals in every society who are either selfish enough or damaged