A D'Angelo Like No Other. Кэрол Мортимер
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knuckles showed white.
‘How am I looking at you?’ Michael prompted evenly.
‘As if you still think I’m some sort of gold-digger out to fleece your brother out of some of his millions!’ She gave a disgusted shake of her head. ‘It wasn’t easy for me to come here, you know.’ She began to pace the office restlessly. ‘The last thing I want is any contact with the twins’ obviously reluctant father—’
‘Are you saying that Rafe knows of the twins’ existence...?’ Michael looked at her through narrowed lids. If his brother had known of Rachel Foster’s pregnancy and not told him, or, more importantly, not told Nina...!
Eva Foster came to an abrupt halt. ‘I— No. I don’t think so.’
‘But you aren’t sure?’
‘Not absolutely, no.’ Eva grimaced. ‘But I’m assuming not. Rachel wasn’t exactly forthcoming on the subject, except to tell me the name of her lover, and that the relationship was over by the time she found out she was pregnant,’ she added heavily. ‘I was out of the country when Rachel first realised she was pregnant, and she never so much as mentioned it during our weekly telephone conversations. By the time I returned to England she was already five months pregnant and had been diagnosed with the cancer.’ She sighed. ‘Pressing Rachel for more details of the babies’ father, other than to tell me his name before she died, didn’t seem very important at the time.’
‘I imagine not.’ Michael nodded. ‘Returned from where?’ For some reason he found himself more than a little interested as to why Eva Foster should have been out of her native England for several months.
She frowned. ‘Does that matter?’
He shrugged. ‘Just filling in the details.’
Eva shot him an irritated glare, sure that this man wasn’t usually a man who cared for ‘details’, that he usually left such trivia for other people to deal with; he commanded, others obeyed! ‘My work often takes me out of England. At least, it did,’ she added with a grimace.
‘Rachel was so ill the last six months of her life, and since then I’ve been caring for the twins on my own.’
‘You haven’t been able to work since your sister died?’
‘Not properly, no.’ It was the truth, so what else could she say?
‘What—?’
‘Look, my career, my life, none of this is up for discussion,’ she snapped irritably.
She loved the twins, adored them actually, not just for themselves, but because they were all she had left of Rachel.
But Eva had trained and worked hard to become successful in a career that was dominated by men, and these past nine months of being unable to do that career had taken their toll, on both Eva personally, and the respect she had worked so hard to achieve for her photography.
‘I disagree,’ Michael D’Angelo bit out coolly. ‘If—and it’s still a big if, as far as I’m concerned—’ he warned hardly, ‘it should transpire that Rafe is the twins’ father, then your career, and your life, would certainly both be very much up for discussion.’
Eva stilled as she looked across at him searchingly, a panicked fluttering beginning in her chest as she saw the hard, uncompromising jet of his eyes and the grim set of those sculptured lips.
She gave a slow, guarded shake of her head. ‘Rachel made me the twins’ legal guardian before she died...’
Dark brows rose. ‘And their biological father would naturally take precedence over their maternal aunt.’
That panicked flutter turned into a full surge as Eva’s heart seemed to be squeezed tightly inside her chest. ‘Are you threatening to take the twins away from me, Mr D’Angelo...?’
Whatever it was Michael was doing, he certainly wasn’t deriving any pleasure out of it. Inwardly he felt as if he were kicking an already starved and abused kitten.
Although this particular starved and abused kitten would probably spit in his eye as soon as look at him...
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