A D'Angelo Like No Other

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Authors: Carole Mortimer
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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
    ‘Y OU 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

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