Free Morelli's Mistress (Harlequin Presents) by Anne Mather

ever be able to enter the apartment again without seeing his lean, sardonic figure standing on her hearth.
    In a maroon silk shirt, a paler tie pulled a few inches away from his collar, he looked darkly handsome. Add to that charcoal-grey pants, the dampness of which had caused the fabric to cling to his powerful legs, and she doubted any woman could remain immune to his sexual appeal.
    She caught her breath, and as she did so Luke spoke again.
    ‘So you stayed with Laurence for over a year after that night in the wine bar,’ he remarked provokingly. ‘It must have been quite a blow when he threw you out.’
    Abby was incensed. ‘So that’s why you came,’ she said disgustedly. ‘What are you looking for, Luke? Justification for the way you behaved?’
    ‘The way I behaved?’ He sounded incredulous.
    ‘Yes. You couldn’t leave it alone, could you? Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I left Harry, not the other way about.’
    Luke scowled. ‘That’s not why I’m here.’
    ‘Well, I can’t think of anything else.’ She wrapped her robe more closely about her. ‘But you’ve had—what?—four weeks to think of a reason. I’m surprised it took you so long.’
    * * *
    Luke’s patience snapped. Without another word, he reached for her, hauling her against him. He didn’t care that raindrops were still cascading down his face from his wet hair.
    Capturing her chin with one hand, he brought her mouth to his.
    Desire, hot and overwhelming, swept over him. His hands sought her hips, pulling her so close she must have been able to feel every muscle and sinew in his aroused body.
    Because he was aroused, he realised, feeling his erection throbbing against her stomach. Dear God, what did this woman do to him that when he was with her, he couldn’t keep his hands off her?
    Abby uttered a small protest, but then she arched against him. Luke was half afraid he was going to climax there and then. Steeling himself against the emotions roiling through his system, he tried to think coherently. He was here to talk about the petition Greg Hughes had no doubt set in motion. Not to make a fool of himself all over again.
    But she was so warm, so desirable. Unable to prevent himself, he slid his hands up from her hips to her breasts. With his mouth still devouring hers, he peeled the towelling robe aside.
    The belt, already loosely tied, gave way, exposing her naked body to his hungry gaze. Dragging his mouth from hers, he gazed down at her with hungry eyes. ‘Oh, yes,’ he muttered thickly. ‘You’re every bit as beautiful as I imagined.’

CHAPTER SIX
    A BBY KNEW SHE should pull back. Yet the minute his mouth had captured hers, she’d given in.
    She’d known how dangerously attracted to him she was five years ago, and she should have known better. He wasn’t even the same man she’d known then. He had become hard and bitter, and he probably despised himself for being here.
    He was also immensely successful. And if she wasn’t careful, he’d assume that was why she hadn’t sent him away.
    She looked up into eyes that were dark with desire and something else. Was it resentment? A reluctance to admit what was going on?
    She swallowed convulsively. Did she want him to think she was willing to forget the past? Perhaps he imagined she might give herself to him to save the café? Dear God, what was she thinking? This man was her enemy, not her friend.
    Yet when his hands caressed her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples, making them peak so sharply it was almost painful, her breath quickened wildly.
    ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he said hoarsely, as if the words were torn from him. ‘God help me, I couldn’t stay away.’
    ‘Luke—’
    ‘Yes, say my name,’ he muttered huskily, lifting the folds of the robe from her shoulders. ‘You know I want you, don’t you? You’ve known that right from the start.’
    ‘Well, I don’t want you,’ she averred unconvincingly, even as her robe fell to the floor.
    ‘I