And then he kissed her, wrapping her close in the sea breeze, and she froze only momentarily in surprise. Suddenly she found herself wanting to feel more than she actually felt because he was a good guy, ostensibly straightforward and as different from Angel as day was to night. Angel was all twists and turns, dark corners and unpredictability and she had never had any genuine hope of a future with him. Furthermore, Angel had never been her type. He wasn’t steady or open or even ready to settle down with conventional expectations. Feelings were foreign and threatening to Angel yet he bristled with untamed emotion. As Fergus freed her mouth and kept an arm anchored to her spine she realised in horror-stricken dismay that she’d spent their entire kiss thinking about Angel and her face burned in shame and discomfiture.
* * *
Angel sat in his limo and perused the photo that had been sent to his phone while he angrily wondered if he was a masochist or, indeed, developing sad stalker tendencies. But no, he had to deal with the situation as it was, not as he would’ve preferred it to be. Even worse, Merry had just upped the stakes, ensuring that Angel had now to raise his game. He wanted to stalk down to that beach and beat the hell out of the opposition. Because that was what Fergus Wickham was: opposition, serious opposition.
And naturally, Angel was confident that he was not jealous. After all, with only one exception, he had never experienced jealousy. He had, however, once cherished a singularly pathetic desire for his mother to take as much of an interest in him as she took in her toy boys. He had only been about seven years old at the time, he reminded himself forgivingly, and a distinctly naïve child, fondly expecting that, his having spent all term at boarding school, his mother would make him the centre of her loving attention when he finally came home.
Well, he wasn’t that naïve now, Angel acknowledged grimly. From his earliest years he had witnessed how fleeting love was for a Valtinos. A Valtinos bought love, paid well for its upkeep, got bored in exactly that order. His mother ran through young men as a lawnmower ran through grass. By the time Angel was in his twenties he was dealing with blackmail attempts, compromising photos and sordid scandals all on his mother’s behalf. His mother had tremendous charm but she remained as immature and irresponsible as a teenager. Even so, she was the only mother he would ever have and at heart he was fond of her.
But he didn’t get jealous or possessive of lovers because he didn’t ever get attached to them or develop expectations of them. Expectations always led to disappointment. Merry, however, was in a different category because she was the mother of his daughter and Angel didn’t want her to have another man in her life. That was a matter of simple good sense. Another man would divide her loyalties, take her focus off her child and invite unflattering comparisons…
‘You heard the pitter patter of tiny feet and literally ran for the hills,’ his brother Vitale had summed up a week earlier. ‘Not a very promising beginning.’
No, it wasn’t, Angel conceded wrathfully while endlessly scrutinising that photo in which his daughter appeared only as a small indistinct blob anchored in a pram. He had screwed up but he was a terrific strategist and unstoppable once he had a goal. He didn’t even need an angle because his daughter was all the ammunition he required. Was Merry sleeping with that guy yet? Angel smouldered and scowled, beginning for the first time to scroll through the records he had studiously ignored to respect Merry’s privacy. To hell with that scruple, he thought angrily. He had to fight to protect what was his.
* * *
‘So, how are you planning to play it with Elyssa’s father tomorrow?’ Sybil asked that evening, having tried and failed to get much out of her niece concerning the date with Fergus.
Merry shrugged. ‘Cool, calm…’
‘He’s impossibly headstrong and obstinate,’ her aunt pronounced with disapproval. ‘I only cocked the gun because I didn’t want him landing on your doorstep unannounced but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.’
‘He isn’t familiar with the word no,’ Merry mused ruefully. ‘I do wish I’d treated him to it last year.’