Page 11 (1/2)

PROLOGUE

‘DON’T WORRY, MIK, he’ll be here’

‘Take your damned feet off the desk,’ Michael snapped in reply to his brother’s reassurance, not even glancing up froel’s Rest, the secluded Berkshire hoelo family ‘And I’m not worried’

‘Like hell you’re not!’ Rafe drawled lazily,his black-booted feet down from where they rested on the front of his older brother’s desk

‘I’m really not, Rafe,’ Michael assured mildly

‘Do you know if—?’

‘I’ to read!’ Michael sighed his ilared across the desk He was dressed formally, as usual, in a pale blue shirt and neatly knotted navy blue silk tie, dark waistcoat and tailored trousers, the jacket to his suit draped over the back of his leather chair

It had always been so of a family joke that their mother had chosen to nao with the surnaelo, and the three brothers had certainly taken their fair share of teasing about it when they were at boarding school Not so much now they were all in their thirties, and the three of the the three Archangel auction houses and galleries in London, New York and Paris the alleries in the world

Their grandfather, Carlo D’Angelo, hadhis wealth with hiland alirl, and producing a son, Giorgio: Michael, Raphael and Gabriel’s father

Like his father before hi the first Archangel auction house and gallery in London thirty years ago, and adding to the D’Angelo wealth When Giorgio retired ten years ago and he and his wife Ellen settled permanently in their Florida home, their three sons had turned that co up si in the millionaires many times over

‘And don’t call me Mik,’ Michael instructed harshly as he continued to read from the file in front of him ‘You kno much I hate it’

Of course Rafe knew that, and he considered it part of his job description as a younger brother to annoy the hell out of his older sibling!

Not that he had as many opportunities to do that nowadays with the three brothers usually at a different gallery at any one ti up for Christmas and each of their birthdays, and today was Michael’s thirty-fifth birthday Rafe was a year younger and Gabriel, the ‘baby’ of the faer at thirty-three

‘I last spoke to Gabriel a week or so ago’ Rafe made a face

‘Why the grimace?’ Michael quirked a dark brow

‘No reason in particular—we all know that Gabe’s been in a bad mood for the past five years I never understood the attractionto —’

‘Rafe!’ Michael cautioned in a growl

‘—grey eyes to recommend her,’ Rafe completed dryly

Michael’s o’

‘And?’ Rafe prompted i his usual clam impersonation

Michael shrugged ‘And he said he would arrive here in ti’

‘Why the hell couldn’t you have just told me that earlier?’

Rafe swung his booted feet i restlessly to his feet He ran an irritated hand through the short thickness of his sable-dark hair as he paced the room, tall and leanly muscled in a fitted black T-shirt and faded denims ‘That would have been too easy, I suppose’ He paused his pacing to glower at his older brother

‘No doubt’ Michael gave the ghost of a smile, eyes dark and unreadable, also as usual

The three brothers had siht and build; all a couple inches over six feet tall, with the same sable-black hair Michael kept his hair short, his eyes so dark a brown they gleamed black and unfathomable

Rafe’s hair was long enough to curl down onto his shoulders, his eyes so pale a brown they glowed a deep gold

‘Well?’ he rasped i to his earlier statement

‘Well, what?’ His brother arched an arrogant brow as he relaxed back in his leather chair

‘Hoas he?’