One-Click Buy: November Harlequin Presents (55 page)

He had to hand it to her, though: for someone who could be so frustrating, she sure had some good ideas from time to time. It wasn't Christmas Day, but lunch with Nell today with Morgan wouldn't be half the ordeal it usually was.

The warming air curled from his open window through his hair, just like anticipation curled in his gut. He was already looking forward to seeing her. But then he was getting used to having Morgan around. Very used to it. Yet a few weeks ago he never would have believed it possible—that he might have an affair with a member of his staff, and a long one, at least by his standards. Even more surprisingly, he was in no hurry to end it. He was enjoying having her around too much.

So much so that when she'd insisted on spending last night back at her place to check everything was all right, and to catch up with her sister, he'd almost insisted he come with her—and not only to see if she was just using this mysterious sister as an excuse once again. And he'd missed her more than he'd expected last night. He'd reached out his arm and felt nothing, and had missed her sweet curves and satiny skin and the press of her warm body against his. For the first time in a lot of mornings, he'd woken up without the scent of her perfume flavouring his bed, and he hadn't liked it one bit.

So he was in no mood to wait until twelve. Besides, it made no sense for her to drive over to his place when both the nursing home and the restaurant were in the other direction.

Picking her up was a much better idea. He allowed himself a smile. And, if they had a bit of time to kill before they had to pick up Nell, so much the better.

He pulled up alongside the row of townhouses and headed up the path to her door.

He could hardly wait.

There was no answer straight away, and it occurred to him that he should have called her first to let her know he was coming, but then the door swung open. ‘Happy Christmas, Morgan,' he said, holding out a small, brightly wrapped gift.

Her look of shock brought him up first, closely followed by the realisation that she was currently propped up on crutches with one leg curled up beneath her.

‘What happened to you?' He started. ‘Why didn't you call?'

Behind her there was movement, and someone flashed into view in a dressing gown with a towel around her hair. And that one was Morgan too, only more so if it were possible—and suddenly there were two of them, looking at him like rabbits caught in a spotlight, and despite the warm summer day the atmosphere inside the apartment suddenly seemed tight and needle sharp. Something in his gut clamped down tight. That Morgan had a sister was no surprise, but
this
? Something here was very wrong.

The one at the door on crutches turned to the other and said, ‘Oh, Tiggy, I had no idea. I'm so sorry.'

‘W
HAT
the hell's going on?' he demanded, and Tegan wanted to shrink away and disappear into the woodwork. She was so not ready for this. Except that would leave Morgan facing him at the door, and her twin was even less prepared.

She stepped forward. ‘Maverick, this is my fault.'

‘No,' her sister insisted at the door. ‘It's all my fault.'

‘What's all your fault?' Maverick demanded, stepping over the threshold past her into the apartment.

‘Everything,' both women said in unison.

He didn't understand how there could be two of them, but he knew without thinking that the one in the robe was the one he'd come here to see.

‘Morgan, what the hell's going on?'

Her large hazel eyes opened even wider, their green hints flaring up with what looked like pure panic as she pulled the dressing gown tighter around her. The one behind him started to say something, but Morgan stopped her with just a look before returning her eyes to his. ‘That's just it,' she said with a hint of resignation. ‘I'm not Morgan.'

‘What do you expect me to call you?' he growled.
‘Vanessa?'

Slowly she shook her head. ‘No. I was going to tell you today, after lunch, but my name is actually Tegan.' She pointed at the woman who was slowly shifting herself from the door, and now stood to one side, resting on her crutches. ‘
That's
Morgan.'

He swung around. ‘What the hell have you two been playing at?'

Guilt was written all over Morgan's stricken features. ‘I'm sorry. We swapped places. Tiggy—
Tegan
—pretended to be me. It was only supposed to be for a week.'

‘And you both thought you'd get away with that?'

‘You weren't supposed to be there. I thought it would be okay. You were supposed to be in Milan. And then I had an accident and was laid up in hospital and couldn't get back.'

He thought back.
That
week! The week he'd come in and found his PA slicking those next-to-nothing stockings up her legs. No wonder she'd looked so shocked.
No wonder she'd seemed so different.

She'd looked the same, more or less. She'd worked more or less the same, tripping over the occasional name or contact, but she'd been a different person entirely.

‘And you thought it was perfectly acceptable to get your twin to stand in for you?'

She swallowed. ‘I didn't want to, but I had no other choice. Tegan agreed to fill in for me to look after my job—'

‘
What
job?' he roared. ‘Do you honestly think you've got a job any more? You must be out of your mind.'

The woman he'd thought of for the past seven weeks as Morgan, only to discover now that she wasn't, bowled forward and wrapped an arm around her sister's shoulders. ‘There's no need to yell! Can't you see she's hurt?'

‘And you,' he said, ‘should stay out of this.'

‘Why?' she demanded. ‘Yes, it was Morgan's job, but I'm the one who agreed to pretend to be her for a week. So get stuck into me, not her.'

‘You should have told me that first day.'

‘Don't you think I wanted to? Do you think I enjoyed putting up with you? I wanted so badly to tell you where to shove your job, but I couldn't. For Morgan's sake, I couldn't.'

‘For Morgan's sake. What about the
job's
sake? Did you ever spare that a thought?'

‘I did the work. And I did it well, you can't deny that, can you?'

‘While all the time,' he argued, preferring to let that question slip conveniently aside, ‘you were pretending to be someone else.'

‘And yet if you'd agreed to Morgan's request for one week's leave—one lousy week's leave, while you weren't even supposed to be there—to enable her to go to her best friend's wedding like she wanted, then I wouldn't have had to stand in for her, and
none
of this would have happened!'

‘It wasn't convenient.'

‘What—not convenient to you? And that's all that matters? Forget that she's going to miss her best friend's wedding?'

Damn her! He wasn't going to be made to feel like he'd done wrong in this. ‘That doesn't matter. Because I
was
there that week, and you
did
pretend to be her, and it
has
happened.'

‘And aren't I damned well living with the consequences!'

He looked at the two of them standing alongside each other, identical features, yet one pale and worried and the other with her colour up, eyes wild and her breathing pumping. He wondered why the difference between the two hadn't hit him before. Morgan was…well, she was Morgan. The same as she'd ever been in the eighteen months she'd worked for him—meek and mild and restrained. Whereas Tegan had been full-on from the day she'd arrived in the office.

He should have picked it.

He prided himself on being savvy. So why hadn't he realised she wasn't who she said she was?

Why hadn't he stuck to his vow never to get involved with the staff?

The answer hit him like a blow to the gut.

From the moment he'd seen those legs pointing skywards, he hadn't cared enough about the differences, and he'd been prepared to overlook the fact she was his PA—he'd simply been way too occupied about how he'd been going to get her into his bed.

Before he could respond, Tegan's arm withdrew from her sister's shoulders. She clamped the other hand over her mouth, and with a muffled cry bolted from the room. He looked at Morgan. ‘What's wrong with her?'

The remaining woman looked sideways at him. ‘Maybe you should ask her that yourself.'

The noise in his ears grew to a roar. The colour he saw when he closed his eyes was red—blood red. The colour of fury.
The colour of deception.

It was Tina all over again, she of the French-polished talons and cunning mind, who'd cold-heartedly planned both her marriage and her abortion with the same meticulous eye for detail. Ambitious Tina, who'd used an inconvenient pregnancy and an error in judgement on his part as a way out of her nine-to-five life and a meal ticket for life.

And he'd sworn it would never happen again!

‘Morgan!' he yelled after her, realising too late but beyond caring that he'd called the wrong name, following the sounds of her distress to what had to be the bathroom, testing the handle and finding it locked, banging on the door. ‘What the hell is going on?'

It seemed like for ever before finally he heard the lock being released and the door opened slowly. All her colour was gone, her features suddenly pale and tight.

‘So you're pregnant,' he snarled, hoping for a denial, fearing there would be none.

She flicked her eyes up at him, the fight in them long gone before she flattened herself against the wall, and she slid unsteadily past him in the direction of the living room. ‘I was going to tell you that today as well.'

‘Of course you were. I can hear it now. “Happy Christmas, Maverick. Hey, guess what? I've been impersonating your PA for two months. Oh, and, by the way, I'm pregnant”.'

‘Yeah, well, it always promised to be a big day.' She looked around but the living room was empty. Morgan had obviously taken refuge in her room and wouldn't have to be party to the revelations and fallout, part two.
Smart move.

He grabbed her by the upper arm and pulled her around to face him. ‘You think this is funny? Because I sure as hell don't.'

‘And I thought it was such a scream. Or maybe it's just throwing up that puts me in such a fun mood.' She glared down at the hand circling her arm. ‘And now, if you'd kindly unhand me?'

He let her go with a snort, wheeling away and striding around the living room, shrinking it to a fraction of its size and filling the space with his dark-thundercloud presence.

She rubbed the place he'd held her as she watched him pace. He hadn't hurt her, but that old familiar burn was there, like he'd branded her skin with just his touch and left it heated and craving still more. Then he jerked to a stop in that gunslinger stance she'd come to know so well, pointing his finger at her like he was set to fire off a gun.

‘What the hell led you to believe you'd get away with this?'

She hugged both arms and shook her head. There was no point wanting him now. No point craving his touch.

Because she'd lied to him.

Because she was pregnant.

And he'd found out about both in the worst possible way.

She was damned.

Would he understand if she tried to explain? She hardly understood it herself. But the least he deserved was an explanation.

‘It wasn't about getting away with it. Rather, just a case of trying to get through it with the least possible damage to everyone. And I
was
going to tell you today. After lunch with Nell. I've actually tried to tell you a few times now, but every time I've tried something else has happened to get in the way.'

‘How convenient!'

‘Frustrating, more like it.'

He shot her a glance that told her he didn't believe a word she said. ‘I bet.'

‘Okay, if it makes you feel better, I found a way to justify any delay in telling you every time. I convinced myself that I was doing the right thing, and maybe I wasn't. But do you think I enjoyed lying to everyone—having everyone believing I was my sister? No. It was supposed to be for one week, when you wouldn't even be there. Instead it's turned into my own personal hell. But, damn it, I did try to tell you, and every single time something happened that meant that I couldn't.'

‘Like when?'

‘Like the Monday morning, just after that first time…' She lifted her eyes, caught the spasm in his jaw. ‘I'd left you Saturday to go and pick up Morgan from the airport, hoping she might somehow forgive me for sleeping with her boss, and no doubt ruining the job she'd asked me to babysit—only to find a message that she'd been involved in an accident and wouldn't be back for weeks. I knew it was wrong to keep pretending. And I couldn't do it, especially not after what had happened between us. So when I went into the office that next Monday I was intending to tell you the truth.'

‘But you said nothing!'

‘I started to! But then you sprang the news that Phil Rogerson wanted me as part of the design team, and before I knew it we were headed out to his office and he told me that he felt I was someone he could trust. How do you think I felt? How could I say anything then? All I could do was make sure I did the best job I could.'

‘And that's it?'

‘No. Then you talked me into an affair that was going to burn out in two weeks. Two weeks!' She laughed, the idea so crazy in retrospect. ‘And I was so tempted. Because I knew I could do the job—you believed I was Morgan, and she wouldn't be back until long after our “two-week fling” was over. So I convinced myself it could work.' She paused, and held out her hands.

‘But it didn't burn out, and instead I let myself get more deeply involved, with the work and with you.' She swallowed, hoping she was making sense as Maverick's stone-cold gaze flicked over her, his silence every bit as damning as his harsh words of earlier.

It was no doubt pointless, but she had no option other than to plough on. ‘And when every attempt I made to tell you backfired,' she whispered, ‘I wasn't really sorry at all—and yet I knew that the longer my masquerade continued the worse it had to get. Then I found out I was pregnant…'

‘So who's the unlucky man?'

Shock exploded like a bomb blast inside her, horror following in its wake.

‘You can't mean that,' she whispered, her whole body trembling, her voice quaking as instinctively she placed a hand low over her belly to protect her unborn child from its father's cruel words. ‘I can't believe you even have the audacity to ask.'

He made a sound like a low laugh. ‘With your track record, what do you expect?'

‘We've been having an affair for something like six weeks now, and still you have to ask me how I happen to be pregnant? Can't you work it out? There's been no one else, before or during this relationship. This is
your
baby, Maverick. Your baby growing inside me. And, heaven help the poor child, but it's yours whether you believe it or not.'

‘I used protection!'

‘Which obviously failed to protect!'

His jaw was set like stone, his eyes glittering like dark stars.

‘How long have you known?'

‘I found out when you were in Milan,' she admitted softly, her nerves tangled and snarled like plant roots wound tightly around the confines of a too-small pot.