Free A D'Angelo Like No Other by Carole Mortimer

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.
    Michael might have started out mocking her, but that conversation, the very air