Da Silva's Mistress. Tina Duncan
boots—to become reality.
He urged Morgan onto her back without breaking the connection of their mouths. She didn’t protest. Instead, she wound her arms around his neck and clung to him as if she never wanted to let him go.
It was then that he smelled it.
Cologne.
Expensive cologne…but cloying.
The kind Joseph always wore.
Luca jack-knifed straight and staggered backwards. The taste of her on his tongue changed from sweet to sour in the blink of an eye.
He wiped a hand across his mouth, bile rising up in the back of his throat as he stared at her.
Morgan had pushed herself up onto her elbows. She was breathing heavily. The top two buttons of her blouse were undone. Luca didn’t remember undoing them but he must have. He had a glimpse of lilac lace and the creamy swell of her breast before she clutched the open sides together.
And suddenly the image of her lying naked except for the boots was back. Only this time it wasn’t his body entwined with hers…it was Joseph’s.
His stomach clamped down tight, a wave of nausea clutching at the back of his throat.
He found the thought of Joseph and Morgan together totally repugnant.
And not just because Joseph was married to his sister…but because he wanted her himself!
His eyes snapped back to her face.
She looked so innocent.
And at the same time so sensual.
It was a seductive mixture.
So much so that he could almost forgive Joseph for being tempted to stray from his marriage and into Morgan’s bed.
Almost.
But not quite.
Honour had to come before lust.
Just as duty had to come before pleasure.
Joseph had married Stefania; it was his duty to honour those vows.
No matter how tempting the package.
And it was very, very tempting…
‘Keep your hands off me!’ she spat.
Luca rocked back on his heels, fury riding his spine like a bucking bronco. ‘Why? Are you afraid I’ll tell your lover about how you fell apart in my arms? Don’t you think Joseph would like that?’
Lover?
Luca thought Joseph was her lover?
Morgan scrambled off the desk and turned her back on him. She was shaking so hard it took three attempts to rebutton her blouse.
She didn’t know what shocked her more. Kissing Luca da Silva as if she wanted to devour him or the fact that he’d just suggested…Well, what he’d just suggested.
She shook her head.
When Luca had challenged her about her relationship with Joseph she’d assumed he’d discovered the secret that they were father and daughter. Instead, he thought they were lovers.
If the idea wasn’t so ludicrous she’d have laughed in his face.
Instead, she almost cried.
What was already a complicated situation had just got one hell of a lot more complicated.
‘Nothing to say?’ Luca prompted behind her.
Although she knew he was goading her, Morgan spun around to face him. ‘Joseph is not my lover! How can you suggest such a thing? The idea is ridiculous!’
‘Is it?’
She angled her chin into the air. ‘Of course it is. The man is old enough to be my—’ She broke off and swallowed. What she’d been about to say was too close to home to utter out loud. ‘He’s a lot older than me.’
‘You aren’t the first young woman to have an affair with a wealthy older man.’
She was so tempted to fling the truth at him she could taste the words on the tip of her tongue. But Morgan forced herself to swallow them back. She’d promised Joseph she wouldn’t say anything. And, while she thought they were digging a deeper hole for themselves by keeping the details of his paternity a secret, she wasn’t prepared to go against his wishes.
It might have been different if Joseph were feeling a hundred percent. But these chest pains were no laughing matter. The last thing he needed was for her to present him with another problem when he already had enough on his plate.
Besides, she owed him.
Joseph had given her so much in terms of love and support. Honouring his request to keep their relationship a secret didn’t even begin to repay him for all that he’d done for her.
‘Except I’m not having an affair with him!’ she flung back at him. ‘You can’t throw around outrageous accusations like that without a shred of proof!’
His jaw squared. ‘I have proof.’
Her insides stilled at the same time as her heart took off at a gallop. ‘You do?’ she choked out, barely able to squeeze the words out past numb lips.
‘You were seen.’ His voice was hard. ‘Together.’
She blinked, swallowed, felt her stomach muscles cramp. Maybe she should have kept quiet and not challenged him. She had a bad habit of letting her mouth run away with her.
‘Who saw us? When? Where?’ she demanded, thinking attack was the better form of defence. ‘I want a list of dates. Places.’
His mouth compressed into a thin line. ‘I’d rather keep that information confidential.’
She slammed her hands on her hips. ‘And I’d rather you tell me!’
His skin tightened across his bones until it looked as if each feature had been carved from the most unyielding granite. ‘Let’s just say it’s someone who works here who has been suspicious about your relationship for some time.’
Morgan couldn’t think of anyone she dealt with here at Da Silva Chocolate who would say such a thing. All the people she worked with were friendly and professional. ‘I see. So you’re taking the word of one person over another? They could just be some kind of trouble-maker.’
‘It is not.’
She bit back a frustrated sigh, tension forcing her shoulders to lift towards her ears. ‘Damn it. This isn’t fair! You’re not giving me a chance to defend myself.’
His head went back, as if he was offended by the remark. ‘I’ll say this much, I believe you’re rather fond of a pub called The Minstrel.’
She nodded. ‘The food is terrific. You should try it some time.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘So you admit it?’
‘I admit we’ve had lunch there together, but that doesn’t mean we’re having an affair.’
His hands clenched at his sides. ‘You kissed him. He kissed you.’
Morgan was sure they had. ‘I’m not surprised. We often greet each other with a hug and a kiss. We often say goodbye that way too.’
His face hardened. ‘That isn’t funny.’
‘I’m not trying to be funny. How do you greet your female friends?’ He didn’t answer, but his expression told its own story. ‘You see. You do it, too.’
‘There are kisses…and there are kisses.’
‘I agree,’ she said with an emphatic nod, trying and failing not to think about the kiss they’d shared several minutes ago. On a heat scale of one to ten, she’d