‘Then make sure you are.’ He pressed his mouth to hers, and for a few seconds she was half convinced she could travel on her own passport in her sister’s name, make it work and to hell with the consequences.
‘What time’s my flight again?’
‘Eleven-fifteen.’
‘Then we have time,’ he said, before rolling her beneath him once again.
Tegan had just returned to the office from her lunch break when the call came.
‘I’m sorry to call you at the office, Tiggy. Is it okay to talk? I left messages at home for you and I was starting to get worried.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Tegan said, shoving her lunchtime acquisition away in her bag with a sickening stab of panic, not to mention guilt. She’d spent most of her nights lately at Maverick’s house with not a thought to how her sister was getting on, and if she’d been trying to contact her. ‘I’ve been…kind of busy. But it’s okay to talk now. How’s the leg?’
‘You won’t believe it! The doctors are hoping they’ll be able to send me home by Christmas. I can’t wait to get out of here, and so soon, I can tell you.’
Christmas. Three weeks away. She’d always known that this affair wouldn’t last, and indeed couldn’t last beyond Morgan’s return, but having an end date made it so much more real. One way or another the affair would have to end by then. ‘Wow, that is soon.’
‘Yeah, I knew you’d be relieved. You must be so sick of Maverick by now.’
‘It’s not that bad. He’s in Italy at the moment. Gone to seal that deal at last.’
‘That must be a relief. You won’t have to put up with him for too much longer, then.’
Did her sister have to remind her?
‘And Maverick still has no idea you’re not me?’
‘I think I’ve managed to take his mind off any subtle differences between us—yeah.’
She could almost hear her sister’s smile of appreciation down the phone line.
‘Thanks so much, Tiggy. You’re a fantastic sister for doing what you’re doing. You’re a star.’
Tegan wanted to argue about the ‘fantastic sister’ angle. She was sure Morgan wouldn’t be saying it if she knew how well she was getting on with the boss. But instead she merely gave a noncommittal answer as guilt wrapped around her anew.
Morgan didn’t deserve to come home to a mess like this—a mess that Tegan prayed wasn’t about to get any more complicated. But she was probably worrying unnecessarily. She was only two days late after all, and her periods had been all over the place since that virus had hit her. Besides, they’d always used protection. The chances were next to nil. She wasn’t going to panic about it yet, and she most certainly wasn’t going to worry Morgan into the deal.
Because as much as she longed to be able to share what she was going through, her doubts and her fears, it would hardly be fair. Morgan was so far away, and still recovering from a road accident.
So she turned the conversation to hospitals and Hawaii and anything else that might steer the conversation away from Maverick, and the methods her twin sister was really employing to distract him.
The Zeppabanca deal was done, the papers signed, and the first-class service on the flight back was as usual unobtrusively impeccable. Maverick pressed back in the wide seat and stretched out his legs. All was right with the world.
And in a few short hours he’d be home and things were going to get even better. Five days away had honed his need to razor sharp.
Alongside him Phil Rogerson sighed as he folded his newspaper and dropped it onto his table beside his Scotch and water. ‘It’s been a good trip, but I’m looking forward to getting home.’
Maverick nodded. Oh, yes! He had a pair of hazel eyes to meet him at the airport, not to mention a pair of sensationally long legs he was eager to feel wrapping around him not long after. Legs hopefully wearing those lace-topped stockings.
Rogerson took a slug of his Scotch. ‘Only the jetlag to deal with now, of course.’
The other man grunted. He was planning on burying his jetlag while he was busy burying himself in Morgan. When he collapsed into sleep tonight, it wouldn’t be because he’d changed time zones, that was a certainty.
‘Oh, I meant to say,’ Phil continued. ‘I’ve got a car picking me up at the airport, so if you need a lift…’
‘Thanks,’ he acknowledged. ‘But I’ve made arrangements.’
‘Morgan picking you up?’
Maverick regarded him levelly. ‘As it happens, yes.’
Rogerson nodded. ‘I have a lot of respect for that young woman. And admiration. You’re a lucky man.’