Morgan's Secret Son

‘Devastated.’ His expression was uncompromisingly hostile.

‘That’s awful. I wish I’d known.’ She leaned forward earnestly. ‘But you’ve heard my explanation. You must understand that I wouldn’t want to hurt him for the world.’

She took a sip of the surprisingly refreshing tea and looked at him over the rim of her cup. He seemed to be having a mental struggle over something. Hopefully she was coaxing him round.

‘He’s been through a lot recently. I won’t let anyone disturb his peace of mind,’ he stated flatly. ‘Your rejection—’

‘But I didn’t reject him!’ she cried in frustration.

‘He thinks you did.’ Stern and forbidding, he leaned forwards. ‘I’ll find you some snapshots of him to take away. Don’t give yourself grief by pursuing this. He won’t see you. Accept that and get on with your life.’

‘I can’t!’ she persisted. ‘He’s only upset because he was hurt when he didn’t hear from me. When he knows what happened—’

‘He won’t hear about it because I’m not telling him your story. Frankly, I just don’t believe that you answered him straight away.’

Incensed, she jumped up. ‘Then I’ll go look for him and tell him myself!’

His arm snaked out to stop her and he rose in one swift and graceful movement, coming to stand menacingly in front of her.

‘And I will be forced to prevent you,’ he said, very softly.

Jodie squeezed her eyes tightly, to prevent herself from crying in sheer helplessness.

‘Please hear me out!’ she begged, opening her eyes and staring miserably at his blurred face.

There was a long pause. She stopped breathing. She could hear his breath rasping loudly, feel it hot and quick on her mouth.

‘I’ll listen,’ he muttered. ‘But that’s all. Sit down. Sell yourself to me if you must.’

She sank gratefully into the seat. A brief reprieve. The next few minutes were crucial. Feeling oddly hot and flustered, she began to tremble.

‘You’re…being protective,’ she began croakily. ‘I understand that. It’s good to know someone’s been looking out for him. But, like you, I swear I only want what’s best for him.’

He grunted and slanted her a cynical glance. ‘I wonder. Would you surrender your own needs for his?’

‘Can you explain that remark?’ she asked in a guarded tone.

‘If you really cared for him,’ he said quietly, ‘you’d do what was in his best interests, not yours.’

She raised one eyebrow. ‘And his best interests are…?’ He didn’t answer and dropped his gaze with a frown. Jodie felt a spurt of hope. ‘You’re not sure, are you?’ she cried shakily. ‘He’s insisting that he doesn’t want to see me—and you’re now wondering if he’s making a mistake! Morgan, think about this! You can’t in all decency stand between us! You’d have it on your conscience all your life if you didn’t at least try to persuade him to change his mind! You know that. I can see it in your face. Oh, please give me a chance!’

Morgan drew in a long, hard breath, his eyes betraying the doubts in his mind. Jodie’s pulses raced and she twisted her hands together nervously.

‘I need some time to think about it,’ he growled.

She beamed in delight. ‘That’s wonderful! Thank you!’ she cried passionately.

‘I’m only taking time to consider the situation. Nothing’s fundamentally changed. Don’t build up your hopes,’ Morgan warned.

She flung back her head and laughed, her eyes sparkling. ‘I’m an optimist. I have to hope! I want to hold my own father in my arms so much that I ache with longing!’

‘Then protect yourself from that hope. You could be badly hurt if I decide you must not see him,’ he said, his voice low and thick.

Jodie felt a tremor run right through her body. ‘It would break my heart,’ she breathed.

‘Better than you breaking his,’ Morgan observed.

‘But…why would I?’ she asked, bewildered. ‘How could I?’

‘Do you know anything about him?’ he shot.

‘No, nothing! That’s what’s so awful—’

‘You know he lives in a large house,’ he pointed out cynically.

She drew herself up, insulted by the implication. ‘You think I care about his money? That’s not why I came! If you can’t identify truth and honesty and real affection when you hear it, then I feel sorry for you!’

His eyes flickered. ‘You’re making it very difficult for me, Jodie,’ he said, almost to himself.

She bit her lip, hardly able to bear the suspense which hung in the air between them so tautly she thought it almost crackled with tension. He seemed unable to tear his gaze away from her—and she found herself locked in his thrall.

‘Just…what is your connection with him?’ she asked, sobered by the power he could wield over her future.

‘I’m his right-hand man. He trusts me and my judgement.’ The dark eyes continued to bore remorselessly into hers.

She gulped, her head swimming. Tiredness. She had to push this on. ‘You could sway him, then?’ she said with difficulty.

‘If I wanted.’

‘Please want!’ she pleaded.

He jerked back a little, as if startled by what she’d said. There was a brief, hot melting of that intent gaze and she felt that at last she was getting somewhere.

He wasn’t as hostile. A faint warmth was emanating from him, an imperceptible softening of his hard-hewn face as he contemplated her, weighing her up, assessing everything about her.

She flushed, her mouth drying as his thick lashes fluttered and his downward gaze wandered to her bare throat, her breasts, and then to her legs, which she’d hooked over one another. She wanted to tug down the suddenly embarrassing short skirt to hide an inch or two of slender thigh, but that would have drawn attention there.

And now he was studying her parted lips, and she could actually feel them plumping up in some odd biological response. Hastily she sipped her tea, to occupy her wayward mouth and to avoid his scrutiny.

‘I stick to the bargain,’ he said huskily. ‘Try convincing me some more.’

She moistened her lips again before starting. ‘I’m twenty-four. I’ve spent all my working life in an advertising agency where I was on promotions. It was my job to persuade clients in any way I could to take up our ad campaigns—’

‘I bet you were very good at your job,’ he said, a curl of amusement lifting the corner of his craggy mouth.

‘I was!’ She furrowed her brow. ‘What else? I help two evenings a week at the retirement home nearby—’

‘Oh, please!’ he mocked. ‘You’re going too far—’