Da Silva's Mistress Read online

  They always met in out-of-the-way places or in the privacy of her apartment. They’d even met here, in this very office, sometimes on genuine business matters but as often as not on the pretext of business just so they could see each other.

  But it seemed they hadn’t been careful enough.

  Stomach churning, Morgan clenched her hands tightly together in her lap and angled her chin into the air. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  He moved closer, until his face was inches from hers, his breath feathering her face. ‘I’m-talking-about-your-relationship-with-Joseph-Langdon,’ he bit out, his accent, barely noticeable until now, thickening.

  ‘What about it?’ She wanted to draw away from him. This close, she could smell the spicy scent of his shampoo, could feel the heat radiating off his skin. Her tummy muscles contracted on a wave of awareness that made her press her knees together. ‘We’re business colleagues.’

  His head went back, nostrils flaring. ‘You are not just business colleagues.’

  Morgan resisted the urge to swallow. ‘Says who?’

  ‘Says me.’

  Morgan looked away, her eyes following the strong column of his throat to the broad expanse of his chest. Just how much did he know? she wondered, fascinated by the ripple of muscle she could see beneath his shirt as he clenched his hands into fists.

  Enough, she supposed, to drag her halfway across London to have this conversation!

  Which meant she couldn’t plead total innocence…

  She lifted her head. ‘We’re friends, too. Is that what you want me to say? There’s no law against that, is there?’

  She didn’t need to be a genius to understand that the string of Italian that followed wasn’t in the least complimentary.

  ‘We are,’ she insisted.

  ‘Really?’ He pulled back from her with a jerk, as if breathing the same air she did somehow contaminated him. ‘I don’t think so.’

  God, but the man was arrogant. He was barely listening to a word she said. Joseph had complained of that very thing so many times Morgan had lost count.

  It was bad enough that Luca constantly intervened in the running of Da Silva Chocolate, but what Joseph found completely untenable was Luca’s interference in his marriage.

  Talk about being over-protective. Luca was so busy handing out advice and looking after his sister’s interests he left no room for Joseph to be the kind of husband he wanted to be.

  Well, she had no intention of sitting back and letting Luca walk all over her. She tossed her head, sending her hair swirling around her shoulders. ‘Believe what you like! I don’t care. You can’t have me fired without good reason!’

  He stilled. It was an incredible thing to watch. He looked like a lion when it first scented its prey. His body stiffened and the eyes that met hers were so cold she shivered.

  ‘You think not?’ Suddenly he levered himself away from the desk, walked around to the other side and sat down.

  Morgan felt some of the tension drain out of her. His close proximity had put her on edge in more ways than one. Whether she liked it or not, Luca…affected her.

  Made her aware of him as a man.

  Made her aware of herself as a woman.

  The 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 paym
ents 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 had been suffering from chest pains for the last few months. He hadn’t told anyone…except her. He refused to see a doctor, convinced the episodes were the result of stress.

  If Luca had confronted him…

  She shuddered to think what could have happened. Barely daring to breathe, she said tightly, ‘Just tell me where Joseph is and that he’s all right.’

  It was like waving a red flag at an already angry bull. Luca went berserk, rounding the desk so fast her head spun. He grabbed her shoulders and dragged her close.

  He put his face close to hers, lips curled into a snarl. ‘You have no right to ask such questions! Dio! Don’t you get it?’ His hands tightened on her shoulders. ‘Joseph Langdon is dead as—’

  His words hit Morgan like a sledgehammer, each syllable an individual blow she felt right through to her bones. She swayed on her feet as the floor rose up to meet her. Luca’s face, fuzzy around the edges, was the last thing she saw as she slid into a dead faint, completely unaware of the stunned expression that crossed Luca’s face as he caught her before she hit the floor.

  Chapter Two

  LUCA TENSED AS Morgan’s long, sooty lashes fluttered. Good, she was coming round. She’d scared the life out of him when her eyes had rolled back in her head and she’d slid into a dead faint. He was only thankful he’d managed to catch her before she’d fallen and hurt herself.

  She whimpered as if she was in pain, then mumbled something under her breath. Luca moved closer.

  The scent of orange invaded his nostrils again. He drew back, just far enough to stare into her unconscious face.

  She really was magnificent. Skin the colour of magnolia petals. Silky hair the colour of a raven’s wing spread like a glimmering halo against the cushion he’d tucked under her head. A mouth that, while slightly too wide, had a sensually full lower lip that just begged to be kissed.

  She stirred on the leather couch he’d laid her down on, lashes flickering.

  ‘Joseph,’ she muttered.

  Luca jerked away from her as if he’d been burned, his stomach muscles contracting into a tight ball.

  There was no mistaking what he’d heard this time. He’d been close enough to hear every damning syllable.

  How dared she wake up with Joseph’s name on her lips?

  Fury rose up inside him like a two-headed monster. He could feel it bubbling away inside him.

  One part of his brain recognised that his outrage was way out of all proportion, but another part of him, a far more primitive part, accepted the emotion for what it was.

  Jealousy.

  As crazy as it sounded, he was jealous of his brother-in-law.

  His hands balled into fists as he stared into Morgan’s face.

  It was his name he wanted on her lips when she wakened.

  It was his name he wanted her to cry out in the throes of passion.

  Her lashes fluttered open. Eyes shadowed with pain gradually refocussed on his face. She stared at him for a long moment, awareness pulsing in the air between them, then swung her boot-clad feet to the floor, pushing him out of the way in the process.

  She touched a hand to her forehead and frowned. ‘You said…’ She stopped and dragged in a breath. ‘You said that Joseph was dead.’

  Luca grew still, his insides clenching down hard.

  The emotions etched on her face were genuine. He would bet a million pounds on it.

  Morgan Marshall genuinely cared for Joseph.

  Rising abruptly to his feet, Luca strode over to the window and stared out. The pale milky sunshine that had been struggling to warm the morning had finally given up, hiding behind a bank of metallic grey clouds.

  The change in the weather suited his mood.

  He resented Morgan’s feelings for Joseph. He also recognised that persuading her to leave Joseph alone could prove more difficult than he’d first thought.

  Not that her feelings changed anything.

  Luca was determined nothing would affect the outcome of their meeting. Stefania was his number one priority. The affair had to end.

  But he couldn’t let her go on thinking Joseph was dead.

  He wasn’t that cruel.

  ‘Joseph is alive and well and currently on my private jet on his way to Sydney, Australia, for a well earned holiday with my sister,’ he said, without turning from the window.

  The silence that filled the room had an eerie quality to it. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. A warning flash of movement reflected in the glass window made him spin on his heels just in time to ward off the blow Morgan had aimed at his head.

  In one smooth motion he twisted her arm behind her back and pulled her up close against him.

  ‘You bastard!’ she spat. ‘Did you enjoy lying to me like that?’

  Once again she reminded him of a firecracker going off. The energy emanating from her was powerful. She was so full of life-force she made every other woman he’d ever known pale in comparison.

  And just like that the wanting was back.

  A surge of lust threatened to kick his legs out from under him. Her body was plastered against his, the cushioning softness of her breasts pushing against his chest, the warmth of her hips cradling his sex.

  He dragged in a breath and forced himself not to act on the hormones raging through his system. ‘I didn’t lie,’ he replied calmly. ‘You passed out before I could finish my sentence. What I was going to say is that Joseph is dead as far as you are concerned.’

  She just stared at him. She looked shell-shocked.

  Another burst of sympathy flowered inside him, but he hardened his heart against it. ‘From this minute you are not to contact him. In pe
rson. By phone. Or by any other means. Capisce?’

  ‘Oh, I understand all right,’ she spat, eyes glittering up at him. ‘But as far as I’m concerned you can go to hell!’

  His blood pressure soared.

  Why didn’t she just do as she was told?

  It might sound arrogant, but people—particularly women—were usually all too eager to do what he asked of them. This woman was like a beacon of defiance, beaming her lack of co-operation like a lighthouse gone crazy.

  Infuriated, he tightened his arms around her. ‘Say that again,’ he snarled.

  Her eyes widened.

  And then she licked her lips.

  Dio, but she shouldn’t have done that, Luca decided.

  She had sealed her fate with the swipe of a pink tongue.

  With a groan, he grasped her shoulders, pulled her towards him and fused his mouth with hers.

  Her lips were soft. And sweet. She tasted like nectar. Or honey. A wave of lust rocked him, so hard and so fast he wanted nothing more than to pull up her skirt and take her right that very minute.

  He cupped the back of her head, then ran his fingers over the thick swathe of her silky hair. The action set off a fresh wave of orange scent, making him decide that what he could smell was her shampoo.

  He stroked a hand down her back, stopping at the base of her spine. And still he kept on kissing her.

  And slowly, inch by inch, the stiffness melted out of her body and she began kissing him back.

  The top of Luca’s head almost exploded. She had a taste all of her own. A feel all of her own. She was like heaven in his arms.

  Luca backed her towards the desk. Something fell to the floor with a loud crash but he didn’t bother looking to see what it was. He wanted the kiss to go on and on, wanted the vision in his head—the one where she was naked except for the black leather I’m-in-charge 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.