A D'Angelo Like No Other Page 6

  ‘You’re correct in assuming we’re going back to your pension.’ Michael D’Angelo nodded abruptly, his expression still grim.

  Eva stilled as she eyed him warily across the office. ‘We aren’t going anywhere. At least, not together.’

  ‘Oh, but we are, Eva,’ he assured in a tone that brooked no argument.

  Well...it might have brooked no argument from either Pierre or this man’s secretary, but, as Eva wasn’t one of Michael D’Angelo’s employees, she had absolutely no intention of being browbeaten by this overpoweringly dominant man.

  ‘No, we’re not,’ she answered him just as firmly before once again crossing the room to take charge of the handles of the double pushchair. ‘If you wouldn’t mind opening the door for me...?’ She looked at him pointedly.

  Michael frowned back at her with pure frustration. Did Eva really think that having come here and dropped this bombshell on him—on Rafe, and possibly the whole of his family—she was going to be allowed to just walk out again?

  Perhaps she hoped that he would allow her to do just that, after Michael’s threat earlier as to Rafe possibly wanting custody of the twins?

  It certainly seemed that way...

  And it was impossible for Michael not to admire her audacity as well as her stubbornness, as much as he had admired her beauty just minutes ago. Not too many people would dare to even attempt to thwart him, but Eva Foster obviously felt no hesitation in attempting to do just that!

  As she had seemingly taken on the responsibility of her sister’s two children without a thought for the impact it would have on her own life...?

  It would seem so, he acknowledged begrudgingly.

  Not only had it affected her ability to work at the career the warmth in her voice implied she loved—and which Michael had every intention of learning more about at the earliest opportunity, just as he intended learning much more about Eva Foster altogether—but she also believed it played a part in her inability to have a man in her own life.

  Michael still thought she was seriously underestimating herself in that assumption, but nevertheless he also felt grateful that a man in her life was one less immediate complication he had to deal with.

  And was that the only reason for him feeling an inner sense of satisfaction at knowing there was no man, either currently or in the recent past, in Eva Foster’s life...?

  Michael liked to keep his emotions guarded from the outside world, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t also completely honest with himself, and that honesty now demanded that he admit, inwardly at least, that he was deeply attracted to the fiery Eva Foster. And it was an attraction that annoyed him intensely.

  And yet the attraction to her was there, nonetheless...

  Possibly because at this moment he was clenching his hands into fists at his sides in order to stop himself from reaching out and touching the silkiness of her dark hair. And wanting to smooth those glossy black strands back from the pale perfection of her face as he gazed into those unusual violet-coloured eyes before he lowered his head to taste her soft and full lips with his own!

  Also knowing that just a single taste wouldn’t be enough, that he wanted to taste, to explore all of Eva Foster, from her glossy black head to her no doubt elegant toes.

  Not only was this attraction particularly stupid on his part, in the current circumstances, because Eva Foster had openly admitted she wanted Rafe’s financial help with the twins, but it also complicated the hell out of what Michael was planning to do next...

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘YOU CAN’T DO this!’

  Michael sat in an armchair, elbows on the arms of that chair, fingers steepled together in front of him. He appeared totally relaxed and calm as he watched Eva pace restlessly up and down in the sitting room of his apartment, her eyes blazing like violet jewels, her cheeks flushed with temper. ‘Forgive me for pointing this out...but, as the twins are already taking their afternoon nap in their cots in one of the bedrooms, it looks as if I already have done it.’

  Eva faltered slightly before coming to a complete stop to glare across the room at him. ‘And looking mighty pleased with yourself about it too!’ she acknowledged disgustedly.

  Michael shrugged his shoulders. ‘I like it when my plans come together, yes.’

  Eva looked as if she were about to explode at his latest ‘plans’. ‘You can’t force me to stay here!’

  Michael bit back his disappointment that the halt in her pacing had also put an end to his admiration of her curvaceous denim-clad bottom, something he had been enjoying immensely. ‘I don’t remember using any force?’ He looked up at her between narrowed lids.

  No, he hadn’t, Eva acknowledged with frustration. Mainly because she hadn’t realised what he was doing until it was too late, and she and the twins were already safely ensconced in the luxurious D’Angelo apartment, just a few minutes’ walk down the Champs Élysées from the Archangel gallery!

  Not that they had walked here immediately after leaving the gallery. Oh, no, first Michael had arranged for his car to drive them both to the pension where she and the twins were staying, and while she had been occupied feeding the twins their lunch he had been busy packing up the things she had taken out of the two suitcases when she arrived in Paris yesterday; she had packed as lightly as she could, but had still needed to bring two suitcases to carry all the paraphernalia necessary for travelling with two small babies.

  By the time she had finished feeding the twins, and changed them both into clean clothes, Michael had been waiting at the door of her shabby room with those two suitcases already packed and sitting on the floor beside him.

  Even then Eva hadn’t realised exactly what his intentions were, had innocently imagined—as the sneer on his lips as he looked around the room had shown that neither it nor the pension came anywhere near this man’s high expectations of accommodation—that he had decided to move them into a hotel until it was time for their flight back to England.

  Never in her wildest dreams had Eva imagined that Michael intended moving her and the twins into the D’Angelo apartment. With him.

  Or that one of those ‘few instructions’ he had needed to give his secretary before they had left the gallery was actually the buying of two cots, and the bedcovers to go with them, to be delivered immediately to his apartment for the twins to sleep in.

  As for the D’Angelo apartment...!

  Eva had been too nervous earlier, and then too agitated, to completely take in the elegance of Michael’s office at the Archangel gallery, only registering that it was luxuriously chic.

  But this apartment—the D’Angelo family apartment, and used by all of them whenever they were in Paris, Michael had explained when they arrived here a short time ago—was the ultimate in elegant opulence.

  It was also huge, taking up the whole of the top floor of this historic building, brown carpets on the floors, the walls papered with silk and pale cream throughout. There were original paintings and elegant mirrors adorning those walls, with gold filigree work to separate the panels down the hallway and in the sitting room, and crystal chandeliers hanging from every ceiling. Eva had no doubt that each and every piece of ornamentation or statuary was also a genuine antique.

  The furniture in the sitting room was Georgian in design, an elegant chaise-longue in one of the bay windows looking down the Champs Élysées, with several other sofas and chairs covered in pale pink and cream striped silk, placed conveniently beside several delicate spindle-legged tables, each adorned with a unique and delicate ornament.

  Eva’s first thought, as she stood looking around that beautiful elegance, was that the twins, both able to crawl now, would demolish a beautiful room like this in just a few minutes. The brown carpet would be safe from their dribble and often food-besmeared fingers, but she didn’t hold out the same hope regarding the silk-covered f
urniture and walls...!

  Michael D’Angelo obviously had no appreciation of the destructive force of two six-month-old babies. And why should he? Eva very much doubted that he came into contact with babies at all in his day-to-day life. She hadn’t appreciated the mess involved herself until she had sole custody of the twins. It hadn’t taken her long to make her apartment in London babyproof: covers on the chairs, and everything moveable—knick-knacks, photographs, books et cetera—now put at a height Sophie and Sam couldn’t reach.

  All of those objections to the three of them staying here were without taking into account Eva’s own, the primary one being she didn’t want to stay here in this apartment with Michael D’Angelo!

  He was too forceful, too unsettling, too disturbingly male, just too everything for Eva to even be able to think of sharing an apartment with him, even for the short time he demanded!

  The bedroom Michael had informed her would be hers for the duration of her stay was beyond anything Eva could ever have imagined; the décor was all in gold and cream, delicate white furniture, gold covers and drapes on the white ornate four-poster bed, the carpets and curtains also gold, the painted ceiling an ornate display of cherubs and angels. It was the ultimate in luxury.

  She gave a shake of her head. ‘As soon as the twins wake up we’re leaving.’ She should never have allowed Michael to persuade her into putting them down for their afternoon nap in the first place. And she wouldn’t have done if the twins, having eaten their lunch and ready for their nap, hadn’t both been decidedly bad-tempered by the time they arrived at the D’Angelo apartment.

  Michael arched dark brows. ‘To go where, exactly?’

  Eva’s eyes narrowed. ‘A hotel, or another pension, anywhere but here.’

  ‘I thought you said you were low on funds?’

  Her mouth thinned. ‘You know, if I didn’t already dislike you intensely, then your smug attitude right now would certainly ensure that I did!’

  Michael eyed her mockingly. ‘Isn’t it a little early in our acquaintance for you to have decided you dislike me as strongly as that?”

  ‘Oh, I assure you, a little of your company goes a long, long way!’ she snapped. The less she had to do with Michael D’Angelo in future, the better she would like it.

  And not because she disliked him, intensely or otherwise...

  Eva hadn’t shared an apartment with anyone since her university days, and the thought of staying in this apartment now, night as well as day, with a man as physically charismatic as Michael D’Angelo, even with the twins as chaperones, made her feel decidedly uncomfortable.

  Not that Eva thought for one moment that Michael would ever return that physical attraction; she just didn’t think it was a good idea for her to be alone with him here. If nothing else, she stood a good chance of making a fool of herself if he should ever realise her attraction to him!

  Nor did she completely understand the reason for him insisting that she and the twins stay here with him...

  ‘I have absolutely no idea why you’re smiling,’ she bit out irritably, annoyed with herself as much as with Michael. For having noticed that he looked even more dangerously male when he smiled. Those black eyes became the colour of warm chocolate when he smiled instead of that cold black, and they were edged with laughter lines. Those same laughter lines beside curved and parted lips, showing very white and even teeth, and all revealing Michael D’Angelo for exactly what he was: a predatory male in his prime!

  Michael didn’t understand why he was smiling either. Laughter wasn’t a predominant part of his nature at the best of times, and even more rarely when in the company of a beautiful woman. But Eva, with her apparent lack of a verbal filter, seemed to have found the ability to amuse him.

  Even, it would seem, when she was telling him she disliked him intensely...

  His humour faded as quickly as it had appeared. ‘Neither do I,’ he bit out coolly. ‘But as you’ve agreed not to talk to Rafe until he returns from his honeymoon, I feel it best if you, and obviously the twins, stay here.’

  ‘With you.’

  ‘With me,’ he confirmed evenly.

  Warmth coloured her cheeks. ‘That’s hardly appropriate.’

  Michael eyed her curiously, noting that telling colour in her cheeks, and the way her gaze refused to quite meet his. ‘I wasn’t suggesting that the two of us should share a bedroom, Eva, just the apartment,’ he finally murmured slowly.

  She looked even more flustered. ‘I didn’t think for a moment— It hadn’t even occurred to me— You’re being ridiculous!’ she accused agitatedly.

  The deepening blush in Eva’s cheeks as he looked up at her was in complete contradiction to her claim of not having thought that for a moment...

  ‘Am I?’ Michael mused as he rose slowly to his feet, a hard smile of satisfaction curving his lips as he saw the way Eva instantly took a step back. Confirmation of her nervousness of being too close to him?

  ‘Of course you are,’ she snapped irritably.

  ‘Why is that?’ Michael knew that most women wouldn’t hesitate to take every advantage of their present situation.

  Eva frowned her impatience. ‘For one thing we don’t even know each other—’

  ‘And what we do know we dislike?’ he suggested helpfully.

  ‘I think the fact that you suspect me of being some sort of gold-digger, looking to fleece your brother out of his millions, and have treated me accordingly, speaks for itself!’

  ‘You’ve openly admitted you want Rafe to give you money.’

  ‘For the twins, not me!’ she came back defensively.

  If Michael was completely honest he was no longer so certain of Eva’s motives, knowing it was his own past experience with Emma that had caused him to jump to that conclusion originally.

  Admittedly he could see no similarity to Rafe in either of the twins, except perhaps the dark hair, but as Eva also had ebony-coloured hair it was logical to assume that her sister might have had similar colouring. But just because he didn’t see any similarity to Rafe in the two babies didn’t rule out the possibility of the twins being his brother’s children. Eva seemed so certain that he was their father and there was no disputing the fact that Rafe had been in Paris fifteen months ago...

  Michael grimaced. ‘I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt on the subject. For the moment,’ he added hardly.

  ‘That’s big of you!’ she snapped sarcastically.

  ‘I thought so,’ he answered mildly.

  ‘That’s still no reason for you to deliberately embarrass me by making ridiculous remarks about the two of us sharing a bed!’ She glared at him with those incredible violet-coloured eyes.

  ‘And yet your blush would seem to imply you weren’t entirely averse to the idea...?’ he prompted hardly.

  Eva looked nonplussed for a moment, and then that rebellious light came back into her eyes. ‘Of course I blushed,’ she bit out impatiently. ‘The last thing I expected when I came to Paris was to...to be propositioned by Rafe D’Angelo’s older brother!’

  Michael shrugged. ‘You would have found the idea less disturbing if I weren’t Rafe’s older brother?’

  ‘I— You— But you are,’ she finally managed to accuse impatiently. ‘And, for the record, I find your warped sense of humour offensive.’

  His mouth twisted derisively. ‘You may not have known me very long, Eva, but I think you know me well enough to realise that I rarely, if ever, joke about anything...’

  Yes, Eva did know that, had realised from the first that Michael D’Angelo was altogether too serious, which was the reason she’d had such difficulty imagining him and the fun-loving Rachel together. Correctly, as it happened.

  But if Michael rarely, if ever, joked about anything did that mean that he was being serious now?

 
Of course he wasn’t, she instantly chastised herself for her naiveté; Michael D’Angelo was just enjoying seeing her feel uncomfortable! And more fool her for allowing him to do so.

  She snorted. ‘If—and it’s still a big if—I should decide to accept your offer and stay here with you until your brother gets back from his honeymoon, then you can be sure the two of us will be occupying separate bedrooms!’

  ‘Let me know if you change your mind,’ he drawled softly.

  Eva looked at him searchingly, her stomach giving that lurching roll, palpitations in her chest, as though her heart was beating far too rapidly. She was unable to look away from the intensity of that jet-black and unblinking gaze. ‘Why are you doing this?’

  He raised dark brows. ‘Maybe because I’m not averse to the idea of sharing a bed with you.’

  Maybe, but he didn’t look at all happy about it if that was the case, Eva realised slightly dazedly.

  He grimaced on catching sight of her frown. ‘Eva, I’m too old and cynical to play guessing games with a woman—’

  ‘How old?’ she put in quickly.

  His mouth quirked into another smile, no doubt because of the incongruousness of her question; what did it matter how old Michael was, when Eva had no intention of becoming involved with him?

  ‘Thirty-five,’ he supplied softly. ‘Too old for you?’

  ‘I was just curious—’ She broke off as she heard the sound of one of the twins crying out, quickly followed by another cry as the second baby was woken by the first.

  ‘Babies interruptus...’ Michael murmured mockingly. ‘Let’s put a “to be continued” sign on this conversation, hmm?’

  ‘Let’s not,’ Eva dismissed firmly even as she turned and hurried from the sitting room to go to the twins.

  Ran from the room better described it, Eva acknowledged ruefully as she gathered up both babies in her arms and quickly halted their crying.