Page 22 of Flora's Defiance


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Flora was stunned into silence by those twin admissions. She wanted to believe that she had misheard him or taken his words up wrong, but he had left her no margin to dream of error. As always, Angelo had spoken with concise crystal clarity. Incredibly, the man she had just spent most of the evening in bed with, the man whose babies she carried in her womb, saw no shame in admitting that he thought that she might be a gold-digger. And not only that, a calculating gold-digger so shameless and hard of heart that she might be willing to use an innocent child’s birthright to enrich herself. It was equally apparent that he would not have trusted her with access to Mariska’s inheritance. Flora was absolutely horrified that he could see her in such an appalling light.

She thrust back her own chair and stood up, the oval of her flushed and taut face reflecting her sense of angry disbelief. ‘What on earth gave you the impression that I might only want my niece because she stands to come into a substantial bequest? What did I ever do to leave you with that idea? What did I say? ‘ she demanded emotively.

Angelo spread fluid brown hands in a wry gesture. ‘You didn’t need to do or say anything, Flora. Before Willem even married your sister, I was acquainted with, not only her past history, but also yours,’ he confessed grimly.

Her brow indented. ‘You’re talking about that private investigator’s report that you mentioned you’d commissioned,’ she guessed, and her heart began to sink as she immediately deduced the most likely source of his reservations about her character.

‘I’m aware that you slept with your married boss three years ago and tried to blackmail him to gain a lucrative bonus,’ Angelo informed her flatly.

Flora reeled back a step as though he had slapped her, but what he had just thrown in her teeth was much worse than a slap, for he had resurrected a distressing episode that she had believed had long since been laid to rest, even though it had not had a satisfactory conclusion from her point of view. To be confronted by that same episode again years later, and by someone she cared about, was an agonisingly humiliating and painful blow for her to withstand.

‘That is not what happened, Angelo,’ she pronounced with quiet dignity as Skipper emerged from below the table and stationed his little black and white body protectively by her feet. ‘Those malicious allegations against me were made in an employment tribunal hearing, not in a court of law, and they were not proved either. I did not sleep with my boss, nor did I try to blackmail him!’

His lean hawkish features stamped with unhidden distaste, Angelo made a decisive movement that dismissed the thorny subject with one lean brown hand. ‘It was some years ago, Flora. I’m well aware that what is past is past and that young people in particular can and do learn from their mistakes and change.’

The target of that extremely patronising response, Flora experienced a shot of adrenalin-charged rage, which coursed through her with such powerful effect that she was surprised that she didn’t levitate off the floor. She ground her teeth together in an effort to think before she spoke but it was hopeless. She felt bot

h betrayed and gutted. The most traumatic episode of her life had been dug up by the guy she believed she loved and she felt cheated by his distrust and gutted by his low opinion of her as a person.

‘I will never ever forgive you for this, Angelo,’ she said shakily, targeting him with tempestuous emerald-green eyes that shone as bright as stars in her pale face. ‘How dare you stand in judgement over me for something that I didn’t do? How dare you condescend to suggest that people change? I’ve got older but I haven’t changed one little bit. All I learned from that tribunal was not to trust people, and that when things get really really tough you’re very probably going to be left standing alone!’

‘I don’t think we should try to discuss this when you’re so upset,’ Angelo breathed deflatingly, registering that Skipper, a perfect illustration of Flora’s mood, was now growling and baring its teeth at him.

’You brought it up, you threw it at me!’ Flora reminded him with spirit. ‘You can’t deny me the right to defend myself.’

‘I had to explain why I was reluctant to be more frank about Mariska’s financial status. I am not denying you the right to defend—’

‘Of course, it’s none of your business. My past is none of your business either and I can only wish that I had kept my present in the same category!’ Flora flung in furious rejection of the choices she had recently made and Skipper, picking up on his owner’s increasing tension, started to bark noisily. ‘But when you had such a poor opinion of me, why didn’t you mention it before now? How dare you lure me over to Amsterdam to live when you think so little of me? You deceived me by staying silent …’

‘Tell the dog to stay out of this,’ Angelo urged with a sardonic look down at the small canine bouncing excitably round her feet and barking so loudly that Flora was now virtually shouting to be heard. ‘I had no deceptive intent.’

‘Well, isn’t that a surprise? Once again you try to take the moral high ground. But it doesn’t matter what you think this time. I firmly believe that I was lulled into a false sense of security and deceived by you!’ Flora slammed back at him in wrathful condemnation.

Angelo studied her with hard blue eyes, every inch the global steel magnate whose ruthlessness had earned him substantial achievements. ‘I had no choice but to remain silent. How could you expect me to challenge you about your unsavoury past while you were carrying my children and you were unwell?’

Flora was trembling. Even his choice of words was revealing. Her unsavoury past. Without any input from her on that issue, he had clearly tried her, judged her and condemned her as guilty. At least she now knew why she had always suspected that he disapproved of her and disliked her. Angelo van Zaal had decided that she was not to be trusted even before he first met her. She need not have worried about trusting him when it was clear that he had never trusted or in fact respected her. Indeed the very existence of her pregnancy had forced him to swallow his misgivings about her character and attempt to form a relationship with her. Was it any wonder that he had decided that the most he could offer to share with her was a bed? No doubt had he been in a position to do so, he would have happily kept his distance from her and her sleazy past, she conceded wretchedly.

‘I hate you,’ Flora breathed thickly, struggling to enunciate the harsh words of rejection and alienation that seemed to come from the very depths of her being. ‘And I’m leaving! ‘

As Flora made her way towards the door Angelo was suddenly there in front of her, blocking her exit like a massive stone wall. ‘I won’t let you leave—’ ‘I’m not giving you a choice!’ Angelo stared down at her with brooding force, jewelled blue eyes shimmering like a heat haze over her defiant and resolute face. He took a step closer as if to dare her to do her worst. ‘I won’t allow it!’

‘Newsflash, Angelo—I don’t need your permission to leave you! ‘ Flora flung wrathfully. ‘So, get out of my way and stop trying to crowd me!’

’Por Dios, I insist that you calm yourself down,’ Angelo instructed in a low growl of explicit warning.

And Flora just lost her temper at that ringing admonition, for she fiercely resented being treated like a misbehaving child when it was very much his fault that she had found herself in such an untenable situation. Did he honestly believe that they could simply continue as though nothing had happened? That she could just live with the news that he believed that she was greedy and untrustworthy with money?

Her hurt and her anger combined in an explosive melding of emotion. She flung herself at him with knotted fists and thumped his big wide shoulders to fully illustrate her point. ‘Move!’ she yelled at the top of her voice.

’Madre mia!’ Angelo vented in a savage undertone as he shifted before the overexcited Skipper could bite his ankle. ‘What the hell are you playing at?’

In the hail of her dog’s frantic bout of barking, Flora froze, her balled fists dropping back down to her sides, because somehow she had never envisaged Angelo losing his renowned cool. But Angelo’s jaw line had taken on an aggressive angle and his electrifyingly blue eyes were luminous with outrage. All of a sudden, a silent Angelo was channelling anger like an intimidating force field.

‘You provoked me beyond bearing,’ Flora slammed back at him in her own defence because an apology of any kind would have choked her. ‘And you’re still in my path!’

‘Where I will be staying until you have got a grip on your temper … or should I say tantrum?’ Angelo derided in a cutting undertone.

‘Get out of my way!’ Flora launched at him afresh, any desire to be reasonable crushed at source by that crack, although she did admonish Skipper for the racket he was making and the little dog finally fell silent.

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