A D'Angelo Like No Other

by Carole Mortimer

  His mouth thinned. ‘I’ve already told you my brother isn’t available for either of us to talk to right now—’

  ‘And very mysterious you were about it, if you want my opinion!’ Those violet-coloured eyes snapped with temper. ‘Which you probably don’t,’ she added scathingly as he continued to look at her coolly. ‘I have the distinct impression you don’t care for anyone else’s opinion but your own!’

  ‘I don’t believe resorting to insults to be in the least constructive to this situation, Miss Foster,’ he bit out icily.

  ‘It’s making me feel better,’ Eva came back tartly.

  Michael D’Angelo raised dark brows. ‘And why is that?’

  Why was that? Because the power this man exuded unnerved her. Just as his dark and charismatic good looks unsettled her. Worst of all, she found her physical reaction to him deeply disturbing.

  And Eva didn’t want to be unnerved, unsettled, or disturbed. She had realised, after this single meeting with Michael D’Angelo, that she would need to keep all of her wits about her when dealing with any of the D’Angelo family.

  ‘You threatened me a few minutes ago,’ she reminded tautly.

  ‘I asked that you remain in Paris until Rafe returns.’

  ‘As I remember it you didn’t ask, you ordered,’ Eva corrected dryly. ‘And exactly where in the world is your brother Rafe that you can’t just pick up a mobile phone and speak to him right here and right now?’

  Michael D’Angelo sighed, his expression grim. ‘It isn’t the where he is, it’s the why.’

  ‘Why what?’ Eva was completely puzzled by Michael D’Angelo’s evasive behaviour; he didn’t seem like the sort of man who would feel the need to avoid any situation.

  ‘Why I consider Rafe to be currently unreachable as well as unavailable,’ he revealed tightly.

  ‘And are you going to tell me what that “why” is...?’

  ‘It would seem I have little choice in the matter, when you could pick up any newspaper or simply go online and find out for yourself!’ he bit out with exasperated impatience.

  ‘You’re starting to alarm me...’ Eva frowned uncertainly.

  ‘That wasn’t my intention.’ Michael sighed his frustration with this situation.

  His day had started out like any other, the alarm going off at seven o’clock, allowing him time to shower and dress before leaving his apartment to walk to his favourite coffee shop, to sit down at his usual table and enjoy two cups of their strong coffee with delicious buttery croissants, before then strolling further along the street at eight-thirty to enter Archangel, and begin his day’s work.

  At no time in the past four hours had Michael had so much as a single indication that his day, his week—his year!—was going to be shot down in flames by a tiny violet-eyed firebrand and her baby niece and nephew!

  But it had been, it still was, and would continue to be so until so he had a chance to speak with Rafe, so for the moment he had no choice but to deal with this situation as best he could...

  Eva felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach as Michael D’Angelo lifted his arrogantly chiselled chin to look at her with those glittering onyx-black eyes, telling Eva that whatever he was about to say to her she wasn’t going to like it!

  His jaw tightened. ‘Rafe was married two days ago and is currently away on his honeymoon.’

  Eva felt herself pale even as she reached out to grasp the back of one of the leather armchairs in an effort to stop herself from collapsing completely, her knees having gone weak, a loud buzzing sound inside her head.

  ‘Here, sit down in this chair!’

  Eva barely heard Michael D’Angelo’s rasped instruction over the increased buzzing inside her head, offering no resistance as he took a light grasp of her arm to ease her down into one of the leather armchairs before straightening to step back and away from her, seeming to realise that she needed time and space in which to deal with her turmoil of thoughts.

  Not that any amount of time or space was going to make this situation seem less disastrous!

  Rafe D’Angelo was now married.

  Worse than that, he had only been married for two days.

  Just forty-eight hours!

  If Eva had sought him out just a week ago, even three days ago, then it might have been different, but as things stood this now seemed like an impossible situation. It was one thing to approach Rafe D’Angelo and ask for his financial help with the twins, something else completely for Eve to possibly wreck his marriage before it had even begun.

  Despite Eva’s urgings for her to do so, Rachel hadn’t really wanted to talk about Rafe D’Angelo after revealing the name of her babies’ father. As far as her sister was concerned it had been a holiday romance, the two of them not in love with each other, just enjoying a couple of weeks’ fun together in Paris.

  Rachel had been totally realistic about the whole affair. It had happened, and it was over when she left Paris, and that was the end of the relationship as far as she was concerned. Learning of her pregnancy hadn’t changed Rachel’s mind about that in the slightest.

  The decision to now seek out Rafe D’Angelo, to ask for his financial help with the twins, at least, had been completely Eva’s own idea.

  And she couldn’t have chosen a worse time to do it!

  Much as Eva needed Rafe D’Angelo’s help with the twins, she wasn’t a vindictive person, was well aware of the chaos it would cause if she was to force her way into his life now, with the twins in tow. As for his poor wife—!

  Eva tried to imagine how she would feel if confronted with twin babies belonging to her new husband. Oh, God...!

  No wonder Michael D’Angelo had been so adamant that neither he nor Eva could talk to Rafe ‘right here and now’. He could hardly contact his brother on his honeymoon and tell him of Eva’s presence in Paris, along with his son and daughter!

  She drew in a deep breath, her head clearing slightly as she did so, willing her pulse to slow as she looked up at the broodingly silent Michael D’Angelo. ‘I couldn’t have come here at a worse time.’ It was a statement rather than a question.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he drawled dryly. ‘I have a feeling that four o’clock in New York on Saturday would have been an even less welcome time for you to break the news. Rafe and Nina were married there at three o’clock,’ he explained in response to Eva’s puzzled frown.

  And she didn’t appreciate it if that was supposed to be Michael D’Angelo’s attempt at humour—from a man who looked as if he very rarely found anything to smile about! ‘What do I do now?’ She gave a slightly dazed shake of her head.

  ‘What do we do now?’ Michael corrected hardly.

  As far as he was concerned his decision not to let Eva Foster roam around Paris or London like a loose cannon, and in the process possibly arouse people’s curiosity as to her reason for doing so, still stood. Marie and Pierre’s obvious curiosity about her earlier was an example of exactly how that could, and no doubt would, occur!

  No, until it became possible for Michael to talk to Rafe he intended keeping Eva Foster, and these two babies, well away from the public and curious eye. At great inconvenience to himself, he might add. Rafe had better appreciate what he was doing for him, because Michael had no doubt the next couple of weeks were going to be excruciatingly painful ones for him. His brother was certainly going to owe him—big time!

  ‘I don’t understand...’ Eva Foster looked up at him blankly, obviously still suffering under some degree of shock at learning of Rafe’s recent marriage.

  Michael grimaced. ‘How long did you intend staying in Paris...?’

  She blinked. ‘My return flight is booked for three days’ time—I didn’t think it would take more than a day or two to speak with your brother,’ she added defensively as Michael frowned.

&nbs
p; ‘Cutting it a little fine, weren’t you?’ he rasped impatiently. ‘Never mind, we can cancel that flight and—’

  ‘I have no intention of cancelling my flight.’ Eva stood up abruptly. ‘Coming here at all was a risk, and I have even less reason to stay on in Paris now that I know your brother isn’t even here.’ Or likely to be available anywhere any time soon for her to be able to talk to him, when he was currently on his honeymoon!

  She should have telephoned before coming to Paris, of course, at least established that Rafe D’Angelo was actually in the city before flying over here and coming to the Archangel gallery and insisting on seeing him.

  That was what Eva should have done. Except she hadn’t wanted to alert the man to her imminent arrival, had hoped to catch him off guard, preventing him from leaving Paris before she had even arrived.

  And instead Rafe was away on his honeymoon and she was faced with Michael D’Angelo in his stead. A man who Eva already knew she had to guard herself against becoming any more disturbed than she cared to think about!

  Michael D’Angelo now narrowed those piercing black-on-black eyes. ‘You have some reason for hurrying back to London, perhaps? A boyfriend? Live-in lover? Or maybe even a husband?’ He raised dark brows.

  ‘I believe I introduced myself as Eva Foster, the same surname as Rachel’s, and we’ve already established that she wasn’t married when she died.’

  ‘Not every woman changes her surname to that of her husband when she marries.’

  He had a point, Eva conceded grudgingly. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I don’t have a boyfriend, a live-in lover, or a husband I need to hurry back to,’ she dismissed impatiently. ‘I hadn’t had the time for the latter before the twins were born, was too busy working, and then latterly caring for Rachel and the twins, and now I can’t see any man being interested in taking on both me and my ready-made family!’

  He nodded his satisfaction with her reply. ‘Then there’s no reason why you can’t stay on in Paris for a week or two.’

  ‘Stay on in Paris for a week or—!’ Eva eyed him incredulously. ‘There’s one very good reason why I can’t do that, Mr D’Angelo, and that reason is financial.’ Honestly, did this man not live in the real world at all?

  It had taken the last of Eva’s savings to pay for the flight to Paris and the four nights’ stay at the pension, and she simply couldn’t afford to stay on any longer than that. It had all been a waste of her time and money anyway, which made the whole situation even worse!

  ‘I wasn’t for a moment suggesting—’ Michael broke off what he had been about to say as a knock sounded on his office door. ‘Come in,’ he invited tersely, his scowl not lessening in the slightest as his dark-haired assistant manager opened the door to stand in the doorway. ‘What is it, Pierre?’ he demanded irritably as the other man looked at them both hesitantly.

  Pierre grimaced his obvious discomfort at the interruption. ‘Excusez-moi—’

  ‘You may as well stick with English, Pierre.’ Michael tersely reminded the younger man that Eva Foster understood his French perfectly.

  The younger man nodded. ‘In that case, I thought I should remind you that you have a luncheon appointment with the Comte de Lyon at one o’clock, and it’s twelve-thirty now,’ he said in his perfect, unaccented English.

  Michael gave an impatient glance at his wristwatch. ‘So it is,’ he realised impatiently. ‘I’ll need you to go to lunch with the Comte in my stead, Pierre,’ he instructed briskly. ‘Give him my apologies, and explain that—that an urgent family matter came up, which I had to deal with.’

  Eva’s cheeks burned with colour as she literally felt Pierre’s curious brown gaze turning towards where she now stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows. When her own colouring and the twins’ was so similar he would naturally jump to the conclusion, as most people did, that Eva was their mother.

  Not that she thought for a moment that this elegant, handsome assistant of Archangel would press Michael D’Angelo on the subject; she doubted too many people ever dared to question this arrogantly decisive man on anything!

  Besides which, Eva really wasn’t interested in Michael D’Angelo’s relationship with his staff, or his luncheon appointment with some French count. She was more concerned with finishing the conversation the two of them had been having before they were interrupted.

  Was Michael D’Angelo seriously suggesting that she stay on in Paris for a week or two? What for? Whatever his reasoning he had better explain himself soon, because the twins would shortly be waking up and demanding their own lunch—probably at the top of their healthy lungs!

  ‘And if the Comte is...unhappy with this arrangement?’ Pierre prompted his employer.

  ‘Then he’ll just have to be unhappy,’ Michael D’Angelo snapped. ‘Just reschedule if that should be the case, Pierre,’ he added dismissively as the younger man still looked uncertain.

  A man, Eva realised, who had in all probability been working at Paris Archangel at the time Rachel was involved with Rafe D’Angelo...

  ‘How long have you worked at Archangel, Pierre?’ she prompted curiously, and instantly earned herself a frowning glance from Michael D’Angelo.

  The younger man shot his employer a slightly startled glance before answering Eva’s question. ‘I—I have had the pleasure of being Assistant Manager here for almost four years now,’ he answered her guardedly.

  Eva gave a rueful smile at the man’s tactful reply; she somehow doubted that was altogether true during the times when the forceful Michael was the D’Angelo brother in charge!

  Her smile faded as she frowned. ‘In which case, you will have been here—’

  ‘We should let Pierre go to lunch now, Eva,’ Michael interrupted her firmly, easily guessing where she was going with this conversation. And having Eva question the Archangel staff, or anyone else for that matter, as to whether or not they had known of her sister’s relationship with Rafe fifteen months ago was exactly what Michael was trying to avoid happening.

  ‘I’m sure Pierre doesn’t mind my interest, Michael,’ Eva returned the familiarity with saccharin sweetness. ‘Especially when he finds it such a pleasure to work here.’

  Michael eyed her sceptically, not fooled for a moment by that sweetness; Eva Foster had a tart little tongue in her beautiful head, one that he, and no doubt most of the men who met her, could easily imagine being put to better use. Eva Foster was seriously underestimating her own beauty and attraction if she believed having custody of the twins would deter most men from being attracted to her!

  It was obvious, from the admiration gleaming in Pierre’s gaze, that even a married man with two small children wasn’t totally immune to the attraction of that glossy dark hair and those violet-coloured eyes!

  ‘I’m afraid I have to insist,’ Michael rasped harshly before turning to look at the younger man with narrowed eyes. ‘I’m leaving now, Pierre, and won’t be coming back to the gallery again today,’ he informed the other man dismissively. ‘So if you could see to the cancelling of my appointments for the rest of the day, and make sure that everywhere is locked up and ready for security before you leave this evening...?’

  ‘Of course,’ the younger man confirmed slightly dazedly. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he added politely to Eva Foster before leaving and closing the office door behind him, both men fully aware that hadn’t been Michael’s intention before Eva Foster had arrived at the gallery.

  ‘You shouldn’t have stopped me,’ Eva Foster protested impatiently. ‘He might have met Rachel, been able to confirm her relationship last year with your brother Rafe—’

  ‘The only person I’m interested in confirming that relationship—or otherwise—is my brother Rafe,’ Michael assured grimly.

  ‘And he’s unavailable!’

  Michael scowled across at her. ‘What do you want from me,
Eva? Do you want me to interrupt Rafe’s honeymoon and tell him about the twins—is that it?’

  ‘Yes! No! I don’t know...’ she groaned unhappily.

  ‘I can do that, if you demand it.’ Michael nodded grimly; it was what most women would demand, so why should he expect this one to be any different? He didn’t... ‘No doubt it will irrevocably damage his marriage, but, yes, I can certainly contact Rafe right now if you insist upon it!’

  ‘Stop trying to make me out to be the bad guy here!’ Her eyes glittered with her own anger.

  ‘Yes or no, Eva?’ he pressed scathingly.

  ‘I— No, of course I don’t want to—to damage your brother’s marriage before it’s even begun, or hurt his wife, I just—’

  ‘You’ve waited three months to come here looking for Rafe. Why can’t it wait another couple of weeks?’

  ‘Because it can’t!’

  ‘Why can’t it?’

  ‘Because—because—if you must know, because I’m almost broke! Okay?’ she snapped defensively. ‘The babies are very draining financially, and I haven’t been able to work properly, and—and I’m broke!’ she repeated emotionally.

  Some of the tension left Michael’s shoulders. ‘And I’m suggesting you let me worry about that for the moment. If you wouldn’t mind waiting here for a few minutes? I just have a few instructions I need to give to my secretary before we leave.’ He strode over to the door.

  ‘I— What do you mean, before “we” leave?’ It had taken Eva several seconds to regroup, but now that she had...! It was one thing to agree that she wouldn’t speak to Rafe D’Angelo until he came back from his honeymoon, quite another to accept any help from his arrogant brother. ‘The only place I’m going is back to the pension, so that I can feed the twins and then call the airline to see if I can get our tickets changed to an earlier flight!’