Flora's Defiance

’Por Dios, I was waiting for you to take care of the issue and so far you haven’t. Clearly it was time for me to step in.’

‘No, it wasn’t, you interfering … louse!’ Flora clenched her teeth and swallowed a worse word while her eyes glowed with angry condemnation. ‘For your information, I was planning to go out and buy a pregnancy test today …’

‘I would prefer medical personnel to carry out the testing. There’ll be a smaller margin for error,’ Angelo pronounced stonily, standing his ground, black-lashed stunning blue eyes bright with challenge. ‘If you’ve conceived, the sooner we know it, the better.’

Colour had already suffused Flora’s cheeks. ‘I’m not volunteering to be examined by some strange medic.’

‘Natalie is an excellent doctor and she will be discreet. We need to know where we stand without any further delay.’

‘How dare you meddle in my life like this? ‘ Flora launched at him fierily and she stalked past him to take the stairs two at a time. ‘I really can’t stand you, Angelo!’

‘But you still wouldn’t kick me out of bed, enamorada mia,’ Angelo murmured silkily.

Flora spun back to look at him, outrage roaring through her while on another level she wondered what those Spanish words meant.

‘The truth hurts, doesn’t it?’ Angelo breathed with raw-edged confidence, reading her resentful expression with alarming accuracy. ‘It’s good to know that I’m not the only one suffering.’

Flora stiffened and veiled her gaze in a defensive move, but it was too late for self-protection because his lean bronzed features were already etched in her mind’s eye to ensure that every inch of her was insanely aware of him. Whether waking or sleeping, she saw Angelo van Zaal in her dreams. And it seemed that even when they were arguing the hunger he could invoke stayed in the ascendant, for her breasts were swelling, the tender nipples tightening while the heat of sexual response was simmering low in her pelvis.

‘We need to know what we’re dealing with,’ Angelo reasoned with scantily suppressed impatience.

‘But this is my body,’ Flora pointed out.

‘I would very much appreciate it if you would consent to see the doctor today,’ Angelo intoned between audibly gritted teeth.

‘You are so unspeakably bossy!’ Flora complained as she turned on her heel to complete her passage upstairs to her bedroom. She was furious that she was too sensible to refuse to attend the appointment just to make a point.

Angelo stepped back into the living room and realised that what he had taken for a giant furry and rather messy cushion was an obese black cat. The animal got up to prowl round his feet and then nudged up against him in a clumsy bid for attention. Already ill at ease in a cramped room overfilled with furniture and now under assault from the suddenly excessively affectionate cat, Angelo swore impatiently under his breath. The undersized dog was growling and baring its teeth at him from below the coffee table. Not a heroic beast, it was carefully maintaining cover and a safe distance from him.

Why did Flora Bennett have to argue with everything he did and said? She was intelligent enough to know that his having organised that appointment for her made sound sense, but still she would insist on forcing a confrontation over it. As for him being bossy? His lean, strong face hardened, his wide, sensual mouth twisting. It was his nature to take charge, and a wise move when he was very often the most intelligent and decisive individual in the vicinity. Naturally he needed to know whether or not she had conceived his child.

And if she had? That was one question that Angelo refused to tackle in advance. After all, she was not at all the sort of woman whom he would have chosen to bring his first child into the world. No, she was very far from being the right sort, he reflected grimly, his lean, darkly handsome face settling into forbidding lines of censure. Having had a sleazy affair with her married boss three years ago, Flora Bennett had then proceeded to try and blackmail her lover into giving her an undeserved financial bonus. No revelation in her history could have filled Angelo with greater contempt, for he too had been targeted in the office by ambitious female employees keen to advance their careers by offering him sexual favours. In his experience it was clever women like Flora who were often the most calculating and greedy as well as being the most dangerous.

Flora got dressed in a hurry. She picked out a simple denim miniskirt to wear with a striped top and a cotton cardigan and slid her feet into high-heeled sandals. She ran a brush through her hair to fluff it up and steadfastly ignored Angelo’s shout up the stairs while she utilised her brown eyeliner and mascara and skimmed a sultry cherry colour over her lips.

‘I’m on my way!’ she yelled, speeding down the stairs.

Fuming at the amount of time she had wasted, Angelo paced in the hall and then, hearing her descent, swung fluidly round, only to tense at the sight of those endless long legs and slender thighs. ‘That’s a very short skirt,’ he heard himself remark stiffly.

‘No, it’s not. I don’t wear very short skirts—I just happen to have very long legs!’ Flora snapped defensively.

Angelo found that unnecessary information, for he was already imagining those limbs wrapped round his waist again and his all-too-male body was reacting accordingly. So hard and full of repressed lust that he physically hurt, he swallowed back a curse and yanked open the front door. ‘Come on,’ he urged curtly.

Flora was taken aback to find a chauffeur-driven limo awaiting them on the street. She climbed into the very spacious interior and watched without surprise as Angelo flipped out a laptop to work on and proceeded to ignore her. Telling herself that she was relieved by his businesslike attitude, she lifted the English newspaper lying on the seat and proceeded to read it. As she read Angelo proved what a dynamo of business energy he was while he made and received calls in more than one language and rapped out commands and advice to various underlings. Listening to the level of innate authority and conviction with which he spoke, Flora was not at all surprised that she was seated in his limo speeding towards an appointment that he had arranged for her. It would take a very tough and obstinate woman to stand up to a male as determined as Angelo van Zaal, but she was convinced that she had the backbone if he pushed her hard enough.

It was late afternoon by the time they arrived at Dr Natalie Ellwood’s smart private surgery in an upmarket part of central London. Flora sat edgily in the waiting room while Angelo continued to do business, just as he had during the journey. If someone had warned her that there was about to be a flood she would have left him to drown with his mobile phone still clutched in his hand. She had met some obsessively hard workers in her time, but Angelo van Zaal was in a class of his own. Mariska’s would-be adoptive father was an unashamed workaholic.

‘Angelo!’ An elegant brunette in a beautifully cut trouser suit emerged wreathed in smiles and swam up to Angelo to kiss him effusively on both cheeks.

‘Flora. This is Dr Ellwood. Natalie, your ne

w patient,’ Angelo drawled smoothly.

‘Have you known Angelo for long? ‘ Natalie asked Flora as she showed her into her surgery.

‘No, not for long. You?’ Flora could not resist asking, although she had noticed that the brunette wore a wedding ring.

‘Oh, for ever. We went to university together. He’s one of my oldest friends,’ Natalie carolled with enthusiasm, her brown eyes resting on Flora with a bright questioning curiosity that she couldn’t hide.