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that.’

      ‘I know.’ She turned in his arms. ‘It’s all right, Mike. I’ve worked it out.’ And because she knew her solution wasn’t perfect, because she didn’t want any arguments, she leaned into him and kissed him with her cherry-stained lips.

      ‘Willow—’

      ‘Love me, Mike,’ she murmured, her tongue sweet against his. ‘Love me now.’ Once he’d made love to her, he wouldn’t be able to walk away, say no.

      Mike wanted nothing else at that moment. Just to love her. It was why he’d chosen this secluded spot, with its lush grass. He’d had one thing on his mind and with her in his arms he knew that the world was well lost…

      In his arms, there was a chance she might agree with him. But it wouldn’t be enough, he wanted more than that. He wanted more than this night to remember.

      ‘Willow, sweetheart, wait…we need to talk…’

      She looked at him, her eyes reflecting the candle flames. And she smiled. ‘Later,’ she said, and her mouth sizzled against his throat as she straddled him and began to slip the buttons on his shirt, pushing it back so that her hair brushed softly against his naked shoulders. ‘We’ll talk later.’

      Now. They should talk first, but it wasn’t easy to hold that thought with Willow’s hands embarking on a seductive raid of his senses. With her hands cool against his hot skin, her mouth intent on distraction, a man could be forgiven for letting his priorities slip a little.

      His hands slid beneath the hem of her T-shirt, spread across the satin-smooth skin of her back. He encountered her bra, unfastened it, and with a single easy, unhurried movement, pulled T-shirt and underwear over her head. Then, as his fingers stroked across her shoulders, sliding down to cup her breasts in his hands, she smiled at him and said, ‘Now, what were you saying?’

      She was right. It would keep. ‘You’re wearing too many clothes,’ he growled softly.

      ‘Wrong. But hold that thought.’ And there was a flash of white teeth as she briefly smiled.

      ‘I’m wearing too many clothes?’ he offered. She shook her head, her eyes intent. He’d lost his appetite for conversation. Lost his appetite for games. There was only one thing he wanted to say and now was the moment. ‘I love you, Willow. I want to marry you.’

      She swallowed, her eyes gleamed moistly as if she were on the point of tears. No need for tears… ‘You’re getting warmer.’

      ‘Believe me, I’m on fire—’

      ‘Back up a place.’

      Back up. What the hell…? Then he got it. ‘You want to live with me?’

      ‘There.’ She blinked. ‘That wasn’t so difficult was it?’

      ‘No.’ It wasn’t difficult. It was where he’d started, after all. And now he understood her reaction to his initial proposal. He’d discovered the need for commitment. Total commitment. ‘No,’ he repeated, letting his hands slide down the length of her body until they rested at her waist. She waited for him to undo the button. Gave an impatient little wriggle. He tightened his grip to keep her still; if she wasn’t still he’d explode with his need for her. ‘I don’t think you understand, Willow. I said, no. Thanks.’

      Willow frowned. Then didn’t need his hands to keep her still. She shivered. ‘Mike, it’s what you wanted. You said…’

      ‘You convinced me that I was wrong. Moving in with someone says nothing. Unlike marriage it’s an estate entered into lightly. What we have is worth more than that. It demands the taking and giving of vows. Till death us do part. I asked you to marry me. What happened to the, “We’ll work on it”?’

      How could he do this? Ruin everything? ‘Don’t you see, Mike? This makes sense. I’ll have a flat in London, you’ll have your place in Maybridge. We could have weekends together. You could come to London sometimes. We’d have three, maybe four nights a week together.’

      ‘It’s an interesting concept. Five out of ten for trying, but it needs more work. Tomorrow. Now, shall we get back to the clothes thing?’

      ‘Clothes thing?’

      “‘Hold that thought” you said. I’m on hold, but I’m not made of stone, baby…’

      The heat rushed to her cheeks and Willow pulled back. Mike didn’t make any attempt to stop her as she turned away, grabbed for her T-shirt and tugged it over her head. She had never been so humiliated in her life. How could he have done that to her?

      No. She wasn’t blaming Mike. She’d done this to herself!

      Beside her, lost somewhere in the long grass, her phone began to ring. She’d been avoiding taking calls for days, but suddenly anything was better than meeting his gaze and she scrabbled around until she found it, punched the receive button. ‘Yes!’ she snapped.

      ‘Willow?’

      ‘Crysse!’

      ‘Willow I’ve got something to tell you,’ she rushed on quickly. ‘It’s so difficult…’ Crysse was crying.

      ‘Darling, what is it? What’s wrong?’

      ‘Nothing. Nothing at all. It’s perfect. Would be perfect if you were here. We’re in St Lucia—’

      ‘I know. It’s brilliant. Are you having a great time?’

      ‘The best. Except…I don’t know how to tell you this.’

      ‘Say the words, Crysse. Just say the words.’

      ‘Sean asked me to marry him. Here. We’re getting married here at the weekend…’

      Willow’s mouth was working, but nothing was coming out.

      ‘What is it?’ Mike demanded, sitting up beside her.

      ‘Crysse and Sean…’ Her mouth was dry. ‘They’re getting married.’

      ‘Willow?’ Crysse whispered.

      ‘Sorry, darling, I was telling Mike your news.’

      ‘Mike? You’re back together? Ohmigod! You’ll come! You’ll both come! Sean wanted him to be best man, but I said he couldn’t possibly ask—’

      Mike heard, took the phone from Willow’s lifeless fingers. ‘Crysse, when is it…? We’ll be there… I’ll call Sean tomorrow… Absolutely… And congratulations.’

      Willow put out her hand to him and he took it. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘What for?’

      ‘You did that. I can’t tell you what it means to me—’ And because, for a moment, talking was difficult, she squeezed his hand. ‘Thank you.’ She shivered. Sniffed. Kept her face averted. ‘It’s getting cold. The candles are going out.’

      ‘And you’ve got a big day tomorrow.’

      ‘Yes.’ Big day. Big deal. She tugged at her hand, but he held onto it.

      ‘Willow?’ He pulled her back towards him. ‘Are you crying?’

      She dashed away a tear that trickled down her cheek. ‘No, of course not. Why would I be crying?’

      ‘From happiness?’ He took a handkerchief from his pocket, dabbed at her eyes. ‘Either that or you’ve sprung a leak.’

      Her lips trembled on a smile. ‘Don’t!’

      ‘What?’ he said innocently.

      ‘Make me laugh.’

      ‘Wouldn’t dream of it. Here.’ And he put his arm around her, drew her against him. ‘You have a good cry if you want to. It’ll make you feel better.’

      For a moment he thought she was going to succumb

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