Читать книгу A D'Angelo Like No Other - Кэрол Мортимер, Carole Mortimer - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

MICHAEL KNEW THE reputation he had, that most people believed him to be both cold and ruthless, an automaton without a heart, and in business perhaps that accusation was true. And no doubt many of his past lovers would also agree with that sentiment; several of the women he had been involved with over the years had accused him of lacking that particular organ when he had ended their relationship!

But Michael loved his family dearly—his parents and his two brothers, and now their two wives—and he would do anything he had to do in order to protect each and every one of them.

Even to the extent of browbeating a young, defenceless woman who only wanted to do what she believed was right for the only family she had left, namely her orphaned niece and nephew?

Unfortunately, yes.

But only because Michael didn’t feel he had any choice. Because he dared not allow Eva Foster to repeat this wild accusation to anyone else until he’d had a chance to speak with Rafe, and he wasn’t going to do that until Rafe and Nina returned from their honeymoon. And if the only way to achieve Eva Foster’s silence was to put the fear of God into her, by giving her the impression that Rafe, if he should be the twins’ father, might want custody of them, then that was what he’d do.

His brother was headstrong, yes, had deliberately earned himself the reputation of being something of a playboy these past fifteen years, but falling in love with Nina had changed his need for that armour. They were two very small, adorable babies, Michael acknowledged as he looked down at the angelically sleeping twins. The truth was Michael had absolutely no idea how Rafe would react to knowing, if it were true, that he had fathered twins with a woman other than Nina.

Michael only knew how he would feel in the same situation!

No matter what the cost to himself, to any other relationship he might have in his life at the time, Michael knew he would want his children with him. And Rafe, despite the outward differences in their personalities, was enough like him to feel the same way. Which was the reason Michael, at least, was convinced Rachel Foster hadn’t told Rafe anything about her pregnancy or the twins’ birth.

‘I’m merely stating a fact, Miss Foster,’ Michael answered her abruptly. ‘Not that I’m saying that would definitely be the case, only that you should consider it as a possibility.’

Eva didn’t want to even consider the idea of the twins ever being taken away from her!

Yes, she found it difficult, all-consuming, to care for two small babies night and day, but she would dare any woman in the same situation, even the natural mother, to deny that it was hard work.

And yes, caring for the twins had also put her career on semi-permanent hold.

But that didn’t mean she would ever willingly give them up.

The opposite, in fact; she knew she would fight tooth and nail to prevent that from ever happening.

She strode over to take control of the babies’ pushchair. ‘Perhaps I made a mistake coming here.’

‘I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Eva.’

She stilled, as much at hearing Michael D’Angelo speak her name in that husky, nerve-tingling tone as at the words he had spoken.

And how stupid of her was that?

Michael D’Angelo was too arrogantly handsome for his own good, wealthy beyond belief, extremely powerful—worse, he was using those last two things to threaten her—and her only response was to once again feel that quiver of awareness down the length of her spine, to feel her breasts swelling beneath her T-shirt, and the nipples tightening, engorging, in physical arousal.

More humiliating still, they were no doubt engorged nipples that Michael D’Angelo would be able to see pressing against the tightness of her T-shirt!

Eva couldn’t quite meet the darkness of his gaze as she gave him an over-bright smile at the same time as she turned the pushchair towards the office door. ‘I’m sure I’ve taken up enough of your valuable time for one day, Mr D’Angelo—’

‘You aren’t leaving, Eva.’

She gave him a startled glance as she came to an abrupt halt. ‘What do you mean? Of course I’m leaving.’

‘This office, maybe—’

‘There’s no “maybe” about it—’

‘—but I’m afraid I can’t allow you to leave Paris until I’ve spoken to Rafe,’ Michael D’Angelo continued as if she hadn’t spoken, the authority in his voice unmistakeable, despite the even softness of his tone.

‘You can’t allow me!’ Eva stared at him incredulously. ‘Forgive me, Mr D’Angelo, but at what point in this conversation did you think I gave you the right to tell me what I can or can’t do?’

He gave a tight smile. ‘I believe, Miss Foster, that it was at the point you told me it’s your belief that my brother Rafe is the father of your niece and nephew.’

Eva’s eyes narrowed. ‘I think that’s for Rafe and me to discuss further, don’t you?’

‘And that’s where the problem lies.’

‘I still fail to see why...?’

Michael drew in a deep controlling breath, hating what he was doing, but knowing he had no real choice. The fact that Eva Foster was so far unaware of Rafe’s recent marriage didn’t mean that she would remain so, and for Rafe and Nina’s sake Michael had no choice but to keep an eye—a very close eye—on the young woman who could put a serious strain on his brother’s recent marriage. And for Michael to be able to do that Eva Foster had to remain in Paris...