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towel and wrapped it round her as she said, ‘Yes? What is it?’
    ‘It’s Kitty, dear. Morgan’s housekeeper. Just to say I’ve done my best with your clothes for now, but if you want to leave them outside your door when you go to bed tonight I’ll have them laundered for you in the morning so they’re nice and fresh.’
    ‘Oh, no, no, that’s all right.’ Willow stepped out of the bath and made her way to the door, opening it as she said, ‘Please, they’ll be fine till I get home tomorrow morning,’ to the small, smiling woman waiting outside. ‘I feel bad enough arriving unannounced for dinner as it is. I’m so sorry.’
    ‘Go on with you.’ Kitty flapped her hand. ‘I’m just glad Morgan had the sense to invite you after what happened. Men don’t always think on their feet, do they?’ She winked conspiratorially.
    ‘I guess not.’ Actually she suspected Morgan would.
    ‘Still, all’s well that ends well. I can give you the name of the chimney sweep we use if that’s any help? Nice lad, he is, and he makes a good clean job of it. Doesn’t charge the earth either.’
    Willow smiled ruefully into the round little face. ‘If you could see the state of my cottage right now a bit of dust and soot from a chimney sweep would be nothing. I…I feelso stupid. You must all think I haven’t got the sense I was born with.’
    Kitty, who had been airing her views on the ineptitude of ‘city’ dwellers to her husband for the last twenty minutes, clicked her tongue. ‘Not a bit of it, lass. How were you to know the chimney needed sweeping? I blame the estate agent—they should point out these things as part of their job. Quick enough to take their cut, aren’t they? But that’s typical of today’s generation. There’s no pride in a job well done any more, more’s the pity. People do as much as they can get away with.’
    ‘I hope you’re not including me in that statement.’
    As the dark smoky voice preceded Morgan strolling into the bedroom through the door Kitty had left open Willow’s hands tightened instinctively round the bath sheet. For a moment she had the mad impulse to step back and shut the bathroom door but she controlled it—just. Her eyes wide, she stared at him.
    Morgan had changed into a fresh shirt and jeans and his damp hair was slicked back from his face. The five o’clock shadow she had noticed earlier was gone too. Ridiculously the thought of him shaving to have dinner with her caused her stomach to tighten, even as she told herself he probably always shaved twice a day. His open-necked grey shirt showed the springy black hair of his chest and his black jeans were tight across the hips. Every nerve in her body was sensitised, much to her aggravation.
    He seemed faintly surprised to see her still wrapped in a bath towel, his voice soft as he drawled, ‘Not ready yet, then.’
    ‘No, I—No. No, not yet.’ Oh, for goodness’ sake, pull yourself together, girl, she told herself angrily, annoyed ather stammering. You’re perfectly decent. Only the look in his eyes hadn’t made her feel that way. Even more alarming, she had liked the warm approval turning the blue of his eyes to deep indigo. For the first time in a long while she’d felt…womanly.
    ‘We’d better leave you to get ready.’ Kitty took charge, her voice suddenly brisk. ‘Dinner’s at eight, dear. All right? And there’s a hairdryer in the top drawer of the dressing table.’
    As the little woman bustled off Morgan smiled a lazy smile. ‘Red or white?’ he asked softly, the words almost a caress.
    ‘Sorry?’ She hoped she didn’t look as vacant as she sounded.
    ‘The wine with our meal. Red or white?’
    Her hair was dripping over her face and all she wanted was to end this conversation and put a door between them. ‘Red, please.’ Actually she didn’t mind but she wasn’t going to say that.
    One eyebrow lifted. ‘Funny. I’d got you down as a white-wine girl,’ he said easily.
    In spite of