Remembering that encounter, Merry shuddered and tears stung her eyes afresh. That was the final moment when she had faced the reality that she had given her body to a ruthlessly detached man without a heart. How could she let such a man come within ten feet of her precious, loving daughter? That question kept her awake until dawn. Suddenly keeping the peace and giving Angel another chance seemed the stuff of stupidity.
* * *
Having done his baby research diligently before his visit, Angel believed he was prepared for all eventualities. His second cousin had six-month-old twins and a toddler and lived in London. It was hard to say who had been most startled by his interest: his cousin at the shock of his curiosity or Angel at finding himself festooned in wriggling babies, who cried, pooped and threw up while poking and pulling at him. There were loads of babies in his extended family circle but Angel had always given them a very wide berth.
He put on his oldest jeans for the occasion and, after consulting his cousin, he purchased only one modest gift. Merry wouldn’t be impressed by a toyshop splurge. She was already saving every penny he was giving her into a trust for their daughter. Merry and her endless rainy-day fund, he thought incredulously, deeming her joyless, fearful attitude to spending money depressing. She was a natural-born hoarder of cash. If only his mother suffered from the same insecurity, he conceded wryly.
From upstairs, Merry watched the sleek, expensive car pull into the driveway. She had dressed smartly that morning. After all she had a potential new client coming at half eleven and she needed to look professional, so her hair was freshly washed, her make-up was on and she wore a summer dress that clung to her slender curves. What she wore had nothing whatsoever to do with Angel’s visit, except in so far as looking smart lifted her confidence, she told herself soothingly.
Angel sprang fluidly out of his car, his lean, powerful body clad in black jeans and a green sweater that was undoubtedly cashmere. He found English summers cold. She carried Elyssa downstairs. Her daughter wore one of the fashionable baby outfits that Sybil often bought her, a pretty blue floral tunic and leggings that reflected her eyes. The door knocker rapped twice and she hastily settled Elyssa down on the rug before rushing breathlessly back to the door, scolding herself for the unmistakeable sense of anticipation gripping her.
Angel stepped in and his stunning dark golden gaze locked to her with the most electrifying immediacy. Tension leapt through Merry along with a growing unease about the decision she had made. He looked amazing. He always looked amazing, she reminded herself mockingly, striving not to react in any way. But it was impossible. Her breath shortened in her tightening throat and her breasts tingled and a sensual warmth made her thighs press together.
Angel’s scrutiny roamed from the glossy bell of her dark hair, down to the modest neckline of the dress that clung to the delectably full swell of her breasts, before skimming down over her waist to define the feminine swell of her hips. He didn’t let himself look at her legs because she had fantastic legs and the heat pooling in his groin didn’t need that added encouragement. He didn’t know how she had contrived to get skinnier and at the same time more interestingly curvy but he especially didn’t like the feeling of being sexually drawn against his will.
‘Elyssa’s in here,’ she framed stiffly.
‘That’s a Greek name.’
‘Yes, she’s entitled to a Greek name,’ Merry proclaimed defensively.
‘I wasn’t...criticising.’ Angel registered the white-knuckled grip she had on the edge of the door and recognised that he would be treading on eggshells every time he spoke. He gritted his teeth on the awareness but as Merry pushed the door fully open he finally saw his daughter and for several timeless moments stayed rigid in the doorway drinking in the sight of her.
‘She’s got my hair,’ he almost whispered, moving forward and then dropping down onto the rug a couple of feet from his daughter. ‘But curls look cute on her...’
Merry watched him closely, registering that he had enough sense not to try to get too familiar too fast with a baby that didn’t know him. No, Angel was far too clever to make an obvious wrong move, she reflected bitterly, before catching herself up on that suspicious but hardly charitable thought and crossing the room to go into the kitchen. ‘Coffee?’
‘If it’s not too much trouble.’
‘Don’t go all polite on me,’ she said drily.
‘What do you expect?’ Angel shot her a sardonic glance of rebuke. ‘I know you don’t want me here.’
Merry paled at that blunt statement. ‘I’m trying not to feel like that.’
She put on the kettle and watched him remove a toy from his pocket, a brightly coloured teething toy, which he set on the rug at his feet. It was a strategic move and Elyssa quickly fulfilled his expectations by extending the toy she held to him in the hope of gaining access to the new and more interesting one. Angel accepted it and handed over his gift. Elyssa chortled with satisfaction and bestowed a huge smile on him before sticking the new toy into her mouth and chewing happily on it.
‘She has your eyes,’ Angel remarked. ‘She’s incredibly pretty.’
In spite of her desire to remain unmoved, Merry flushed with pride. ‘I think so too.’
‘She’s also unmistakeably mine,’ Angel intoned with unashamed approval.
‘Well, you already knew that,’ Merry could not resist reminding him. ‘She was DNA tested after she was born.’
Angel winced. ‘I never once doubted that the child you were carrying was mine but in view of inheritance rights...and us not being married...it was best to have it legally confirmed.’ He hesitated before turning his classic bronzed profile to study her levelly. ‘But I let the lawyers take over and run the whole show and that was a mistake. I see that now.’
Merry jerked her chin in acknowledgement, not trusting herself to speak.
‘I didn’t know any other way to handle it,’ Angel admitted grimly. ‘I took the easy way out...unfortunately the easy way turned out to be the wrong way.’
Taken aback by that admission, Merry dragged in a ragged breath and turned away to make the coffee. A fat burst of chuckles from her daughter made her flip back and she saw Elyssa bouncing on the rug, held steady by Angel’s hands and revelling in both the exercise and the attention.
When Elyssa tired of that, Angel turned out her toy box for her. Tiger slunk out from under the chair where he had been hiding since Angel’s arrival and moved hesitantly closer to investigate.
‘Diavolos!’ Angel exclaimed in surprise. ‘Where did the dog come from?’
Startled by Angel’s deep voice, Tiger shot back under the chair.
‘He’s been here all along. His name’s Tiger.’
‘Kind of nervous for a dog called Tiger and hardly a stream-lined predator.’
‘OK. He’s fat, you can say it. He’s addicted to food and he wasn’t socialised properly when he was young. He came from a puppy farm that was closed down,’ Merry volunteered, extending a cup of black coffee to Angel as he vaulted lithely upright, suddenly dominating the small room with his height and the breadth of his shoulders.
‘I didn’t know you were keen on dogs.’
‘I practically grew up helping in the rescue centre.’ Merry could hear herself gabbling because her heart was pounding wildly in her chest as Angel moved towards her and even breathing was a challenge beneath the onslaught of his gleaming dark golden eyes. ‘I—’
‘Tell it like it is,’ Angel urged sibilantly.
Her smooth brow furrowed. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You still want me as much as I want you,’ he breathed huskily, sipping his coffee as if he were merely making casual conversation.
‘I don’t want to have that sort of discussion with you,’ Merry told him curtly, colour burnishing her cheeks as she wondered if he really could tell that easily that she was still vulnerable around him. Not that she would do anything about it or let him do anything about it, she reasoned with pride. Attraction was nothing more than a hormonal trick and, in her case, a very dangerous misdirection.
‘Avoid? Deny?’ Angel derided, his beautiful wilful mouth curling, his smouldering gaze enhanced by unfairly long black lashes welded to her fast-reddening face. ‘What’s the point?’
‘If you continue this I’m going to ask you to leave,’ Merry warned thinly.
And genuine amusement engulfed Angel and laughter lit up his lean, dark features. ‘I’m not about to pounce on you with our daughter watching! Believe me, while she’s around, you’re safe,’ he assured her smoothly.
Inexplicably that little exchange made Merry feel foolish and rather as though she had ended up with egg on her face, which was burning like a furnace. Even now, many months after the event, she couldn’t laugh about what had happened between them. Looking back, it was as if blinding sunlight overlaid and blurred the explosive passion she couldn’t begin to explain and never wanted to experience again. Unfortunately for her, her body had a different ambition. One glimpse of Angel’s darkly handsome face and long, sleek, muscular frame and she was as tense as a bowstring, caught between forbidden pleasure at his sheer physical beauty and angry self-loathing at her susceptibility to it.
‘I brought lunch with me,’ Angel revealed, startling her.
Her eyes widened. ‘But I have a client due.’
‘I’ll return in an hour. You know we need to talk about Elyssa and how we move on from here,’ Angel pointed out as if it were the most reasonable and natural thing in the world when in truth they had never ever talked about anything.
‘Yes...yes, of course,’ she muttered uneasily, because she could see that a talk made sense and it was surely better to get it all over in one go and in one day, she told herself soothingly. ‘I should be free in an hour, but—’
‘I’ll make it an hour and a half,’ Angel cut in decisively as he moved towards the door.
Merry skimmed his arm with an uncertain finger to attract his attention. ‘I’m afraid Elyssa has...er...stained your sweater,’ she told him awkwardly.
His amused grin flashed perfect white teeth and enhanced the sculpted fullness of his wide, sensual mouth. ‘It’s not a problem. I brought a change of clothes with me.’