with excuses. ‘You always do as you like, Angelo. You’re a strong man. You’re no one’s whipping boy!’
‘Believe me when I tell you that it was a huge struggle to keep the communication lines between me and Willem and Julie open. Their lifestyle was abhorrent to me but for their daughter’s sake it was imperative that I still retained access to them,’ Angelo retorted grimly. ‘Had I gone against your sister’s wishes they would no longer have trusted me and Mariska would have suffered …’
‘So you got involved and I was left on the outside, kept in ignorance of what was happening in Willem and Julie’s lives until it was too late,’ Flora condemned with unconcealed bitterness.
‘I made Mariska’s needs my priority,’ Angelo countered without apology. ‘I did the best I could in a very difficult situation.’
‘Well, the best you could wasn’t good enough, was it? ‘ Flora threw at him fierily, her temper rising again like steam inside a kettle as the sheer awfulness of what she had learned that morning bit into her like painful claws on tender flesh. ‘Less than a year after Mariska’s birth, your stepbrother and my sister are both dead and their child is an orphan!’
His superb bone structure rigid, Angelo surveyed her with cool ice-blue, astonishingly clear eyes set above the smooth olive planes of his handsome face. His eyes had the shockingly vivid clarity of a glacier lake she had once seen in the Alps, she thought absently. It struck her that so far nothing she had said had moved him in the slightest and his rigorous self-control seemed to mock her emotional state.
‘Willem and Julie were a fatal combination,’ Angelo murmured in a tone of flat finality. ‘Willem was weak and troubled, and before they even met Julie was a habitual drug user.’
As the ramifications of that accusation sank in, shocking Flora all over again, she released a jagged laugh of disbelief. ‘How dare you try to blame Julie for what happened to them? How dare you insinuate that she was the prime instigator?’
‘I am telling you what I know to be the truth. I have no desire to malign your memory of your sister.’
Flora shot him an enraged glance, green eyes luminous as green glass on the seashore. ‘Then don’t do it.’
‘I did not hurl the first stone,’ Angelo countered levelly, his attention wandering to the way the fine wool sweater lovingly moulded the small pouting curves of her breasts and defined the slight bump of her prominent nipples. He suspected that she wasn’t wearing a bra and the full taut sensation of heaviness at his groin increased as he imagined peeling off that sweater. It took enormous self-discipline to wrench his mind back from that erotic reverie and her ability to distract him without even trying to do so infuriated him.
‘You could have told me that Willem and Julie had got involved in drugs! ‘ Flora slung at him in a seething undertone, her eyes bright with antagonism and accusation. The growing tension in the atmosphere only put her more on edge. ‘And you could have told me that I had to conceal where I got that information from.’
‘As I’ve already said, when I was unable to persuade either Willem or his wife to stop using drugs or even to enter counselling, my main goal was to protect Mariska from their excesses.’
Flora snatched in an audible breath in an effort to calm her teeming emotions down to a more controllable level. She folded her arms tightly and crossed the floor, her slender spine stiff as a pencil. The dreadful compulsion to stare at him had her in its hold, though, for when she looked once she always had to look back at him again and admire his amazing bone structure, dazzling eyes and tall, powerful physique. That he could stun her even in the midst of a bitter argument outraged her sense of what was decent. In measured rejection she fixed her eyes on the view of the quiet canal beyond the window. ‘It’s so unfair that you’re trying to foist the blame on Julie.’
‘I am not trying to do that,’ Angelo rebutted, his attention jerking away from the snug fit of her jeans over her heart-shaped derrière, for his imagination had really not required that added stimulus in her radius. His susceptibility to her every move around him galled him and gave him a disturbingly unfamiliar sense of being out of control. ‘But I must be honest with you, even if you find that honesty offensive.’
‘It is deeply offensive that you should accuse my sister of having been an habitual substance abuser,’ Flora pointed out thinly, turning back to him for emphasis while her tongue slid out to moisten the dry curve of her lower lip.
‘Even if I know that to be true?’ Instantly engaged in picturing the effect of that small pink tongue tip on a highly sensitive part of his own anatomy, Angelo surveyed the sultry raspberry-tinted fullness of her mouth with driven concentration. She was making him feel ridiculously like a sex-starved adolescent boy and his hands clenched into defensive fists by his side.
‘How could you possibly know such a thing to be true?’ Flora flung in angry, scornful dismissal of that claim. She clashed head-on with his electrifyingly blue eyes, which might as well have been lit by tiny blue flames for she had the sensation of heat dancing over her entire skin surface. She flushed and her nipples tingled almost painfully while a scratchy sensation of warmth and awareness settled between her legs. In an uneasy movement, she shifted position off one foot on to the other.
‘I know because I had Julie privately investigated before she married Willem,’ Angelo admitted with unapologetic gravity. ‘As a student in London your sister was running with a druggie crowd and regularly took ecstasy and cocaine. Even though she was pregnant she brought those habits to Amsterdam with her and it wasn’t long before my stepbrother joined her and the two of them began to experiment with heroin.’
As Angelo spoke Flora had fallen very still and her eyes were very wide and dark with dismay. ‘You had Julie investigated? There must be some mistake?’
‘There was no mistake,’ Angelo told her steadily, noticing how pale she had become, noting too how that pallor merely accentuated her bright copper hair and lustrous green eyes. Even her prickly argumentative nature could not detract from her considerable appeal. ‘The report was done by a reputable firm and it was very detailed. I’m afraid that even as a teenager your sister was a heavy user of recreational drugs—’
‘It’s not possible. When Julie was a student, she was living with me,’ Flora confided, and her voice slowly trailed away as she took that thought to its natural conclusion and looked back in time, a sinking sensation forming in the pit of her stomach.
Unfortunately, Julie had moved into Flora’s flat and started college during what was a very fraught period in her older sister’s life. Flora had had to put in very long hours at work while being harassed by a bullying boss. She had also been struggling to keep a demanding fiancé happy and she had not been able to give her half-sister the time and attention that she would have liked. Even so, she valued her memories of their time together back then and had seen nothing in Julie’s behaviour that might have suggested that there was anything seriously amiss in her life. Certainly Julie had enjoyed a very active social calendar, but then so did most students, Flora reasoned ruefully. She did recall the very late hours the younger woman had kept and Flora, who’d had to be at work early, had usually been asleep by the time her sister came home. Julie had also been very prone to changeable moods and staying in bed all day at weekends, but that kind of behaviour could surely be ascribed to many teenagers?
‘If Julie took drugs in those days, and I’m not sure I can accept that that could be true,’ Flora breathed abruptly and without warning discovered that her eyes were prickling with tears, ‘I hadn’t the slightest idea of what she was up to.’
Angelo, who had a conscience as tough as the steel his factories manufactured, saw moisture shimmer in her beautiful green eyes and he closed the distance between them without even being aware of a prompting to do so. Bare inches away from her, he faltered to a halt and hovered, suddenly uncharacteristically uncertain of what to do next because he was a man who had always walked the other way or turned a blind eye when women got upset. But he stared down into her tear-wet face and in an action that felt ridiculously natural to him, but which was actually not at all