Da Silva's Mistress. Tina Duncan

Da Silva's Mistress - Tina Duncan


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thought horrified her.

      Luca da Silva was the last person she should be thinking about in that way!

      But somehow she couldn’t help herself.

      He was wickedly handsome. Hair as black as her own. Eyes as dark as her own. His body a patchwork of tightly honed muscle and warm golden skin.

      But it was more than that.

      She’d heard about people who had the kind of charisma that turned heads, but she’d never met one of them…until now.

      Luca had that indescribable something in spades.

      Leaning back in his chair, Luca smiled. It was the kind of smile a shark might give before gobbling up much smaller prey. ‘I want your promise not to see Joseph again.’

      Her heart wrenched, her throat clogging with emotion.

      Her lost job was forgotten—at least for the time being.

      Time enough later to figure out how she was going to pay off her student loans and her mortgage without a job.

      This—Joseph—was much more important.

      He was the only family she had. The only person who’d ever really cared about her. Even her own mother had regretted her existence. Sheila had taken every opportunity to remind her daughter about how her conception had ruined her life.

      Joseph was the exact opposite. He’d welcomed her with open arms, his delight so effusive she’d actually cried. For the first time in her life she felt wanted. Really wanted.

      And Luca was asking her to turn her back on that?

      An invisible hand clenched around her heart, squeezing until it was a physical pain. She couldn’t give Joseph up—couldn’t give up the sense of belonging she’d felt since finding him after her mother died.

      But she couldn’t explain any of that to Luca.

      Couldn’t…because she’d promised Joseph she wouldn’t discuss the true nature of their relationship with anyone.

      So what did she do now?

      She could tell Luca to go to hell, of course. It was on the tip of her tongue to do exactly that. But she had to be cautious. Antagonising him could make the situation worse—although how that was possible she wasn’t quite sure.

      Her other option was to lie.

      She didn’t want to. Lies and secrets had a terrible way of biting you on the backside when you least expected it.

      But what other choice did she have?

      Dragging in a deep breath, she looked across the desk at Luca and tried to smile. ‘OK. I promise.’

      ‘Liar.’

      Her heart jerked in her chest, her cheeks burned and her attempt at a smile crumbled. ‘I—’ she started, but he cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

      ‘Don’t bother.’ He steepled his fingers beneath his chin, staring grim-faced over the top of them. ‘I had hoped losing your job would be enough incentive to show you I mean business. But obviously you need a little more…encouragement to stay away from Joseph.’

      Ice slid down her spine. How could he make such a simple statement sound so threatening?

      He pulled open the top drawer and extracted something which he tossed down in the middle of the desk.

      ‘What’s that?’ she croaked, staring at the rectangular piece of paper.

      He leant back in his chair. ‘Why don’t you look for yourself?’

      Shifting to the front of her seat, Morgan reached out and picked it up by the edge, as if it might bite. She looked down. It was a cheque. A cheque made out in her name for the sum of fifty thousand pounds.

      Her fingers started to shake, her insides shrinking. She looked up, the blood draining from her head and settling like a dead weight in the pit of her stomach. Then she jumped to her feet and, with a vicious flick of the wrist, flung the cheque at his face. ‘Don’t be insulting!’

      With lightning-quick reflexes he caught the wedge of paper in mid-air. ‘Isn’t it enough?’

      Her breath caught, the insult catching her on the raw. Furious, she slammed her hands palms-down on the top of the desk and bent towards him. ‘Do you really think you can bribe me to stay away from Joseph?’

      ‘Yes!’

      She shook her head. ‘Well, you’re wrong. Friends don’t come with a price tag attached—nor do they come with a dispose-by date.’

      He shrugged. ‘It’s a lot of money.’

      It was a lot of money. Money she could no doubt do with now she was out of a job.

      Four years at Oxford University had been expensive. Although she’d worked part-time—waitressing initially, followed by a stint as a marketing assistant—it hadn’t been enough to cover her fees, books and general living expenses.

      She’d had to borrow money to get through.

      Fifty thousand pounds would wipe out her student loans, plus provide enough for her to live on and make her mortgage payments for the next few months while she looked for a new job.

      But, while the money would be a godsend, Morgan wasn’t in the least tempted to take it.

      The price was too high.

      Much too high.

      Joseph and her self respect meant a hell of a lot more to her than any amount of money ever could.

      ‘I don’t care how much it is,’ she said forcefully. ‘I don’t want it.’

      He frowned, as if her response bothered him in some way. Then his expression changed and he rose to his feet and mimicked her position on the desk.

      Their faces were so close Morgan could smell the clean male smell of him, could see the flecks of gold in the darkness of his gaze. Her eyes settled on his mouth and suddenly she wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

      The thought made her move sharply back from the desk.

      ‘Everyone has a price. What’s yours?’ Luca asked, in a voice that grated like sandpaper down her spine.

      ‘I don’t have one.’

      ‘No? We’ll see. When Joseph comes back to London you won’t be seeing him again. And that’s a promise.’

      Seemingly satisfied by her stunned silence, Luca sat down, pulled a folder towards him and began to read.

      Morgan stared at the dark pelt of his hair, not quite sure what to say. Or do. She’d heard every word he said but only two had registered.

      As if he sensed her gaze on him, Luca looked up, his eyes like black chips of ice. ‘What are you still doing here? This conversation is over.’

      ‘But—’

      ‘But nothing. Now get out. Or do I have to get Security to throw you out?’

      Although Morgan knew she was being foolish, she couldn’t go just yet. She had to ask him something first. Dragging in a deep breath for courage, she asked quietly, ‘Back from where?’

      Luca’s head shot up so fast she was surprised he hadn’t pulled a muscle. ‘What did you say?’

      She swallowed. He looked dark and dangerous. But she didn’t care.

      Joseph had said nothing about a trip. That was unusual in itself. He always called her before he went away. Given the way Luca had confronted her, she was worried he’d said something to Joseph.

      She gripped her hands tightly together in front of her, a ball of anxiety wedged firmly in the back of her throat.

      Joseph


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