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Phillip pursed his lips.
“I don’t like to give advice—”
“But you’ll make an exception for me,” Lara interrupted.
His mouth quirked. But, of course, he got control before the grin actually appeared and gave a regal nod instead.
How on earth were they actually related?
“I feel as if I owe it to you to make an exception.” He frowned, looking down at his hands. For the first time, Lara noticed the scars crisscrossing the backs of them, as if he’d been cut.
Her gaze traced the bruises on his face, pain tying knots in her belly at the thought of what he’d been through.
“Phillip—”
“As I was saying,” he broke in before she could express her—what? Sympathy? Horror? Regret? She felt them all, but didn’t know how to put them into words. So she lifted her hands to let him know that she’d let it go. God forbid they muddle through some uncomfortable emotional discussion. They might get close or realize they had some inkling of familial feelings.
Which would make Dominic right.
And Lara wasn’t about to let that happen.
“Castillo might be a little arrogant in his belief that he knows best,” Phillip said, making her lips twitch. It was like a pot describing a kettle. “But in this case, I think he had your best interest at heart.”
“You think dragging me here to Coronado, knowing there was no threat, trying to play family matchmaker by reuniting us against our will, then claiming his actions were simply altruistic is having my best interest at heart?”
Phillip’s expression didn’t change for a few seconds, then he sighed. “Okay, if you put it that way, he sounds like an ass.”
Lara snorted, then laughed so hard she could only nod her agreement.
“But ass or not, he really did seem upset when he finished talking with you earlier.”
Laughter fading, Lara took a sip of her iced tea before shrugging.
“Sure, he was upset. How often is Dominic Castillo called out on being wrong?”
“Was he wrong? Or was he simply not telling you what you wanted to hear?”
Ouch.
Lara wasn’t the kind to expect sympathy and hand-holding, but come on—wasn’t a big brother supposed to stick up for his sibling, maybe pat her on the head a few times before gently guiding her to reality?
“I’m just saying that often, truth is relative depending on a person’s perspective. I’m not defending Castillo’s actions. Just suggesting that perhaps you should take a wider, less personal view of the situation.”
But she didn’t want to.
She wanted to be justifiably angry.
After all, fury kept the hurt at bay much better than logic. But, finally, Lara nodded.
Then, unable to let it go, she frowned at her brother.
“So, seriously...is he ever wrong?”
Phillip’s grimace was a work of art.
“Let’s just say that some of his arrogance is well earned.” Phillip paused, then reached into his jacket pocket. Lara’s mouth dropped when he pulled out a wad of cash.
“I understand I owe you. Time and a half, right?” he said, handing her the money.
“I was just needling Castillo,” she protested, pushing the stack of bills back across the table. “I’m not a charity case. I don’t need your money.”
“Take it. If not for me, you’d still have a job, an apartment and most of your belongings.”
“No, if it weren’t for those goons I’d still have that stuff. And none of it is anything I can’t live without.” Like Phillip, she wasn’t a fan of guilt games. She was happy to dump a lot of things at her brother’s feet. Irritation, bafflement, maybe a little disdain. But not guilt. He had enough scars—he wasn’t carrying the blame for that crap, too.
“Take it.” He paused, then with another grimace, added, “Please.”
Lara laughed. She couldn’t help it. He looked so pained saying that precious word.
“Look, it’s not much. Besides, morally you’re entitled to half the Banks estate,” he pointed out. Frowning, she noted that he didn’t refer to them as his parents, either. Interesting.
“Legally I’m entitled to nothing,” she returned with a shrug. She wasn’t bitter; she’d made her choices and had no problem standing by them.
“I said morally.” For the first time since they’d reunited that morning, maybe for the first time in her life, Lara saw regret in Phillip’s eyes.
She’d never questioned his moral stand. If there was anyone who had a clear view of right and wrong, and firmly planted himself on the side of good, it would be Phillip.
She frowned, studying his face. The lines were tight in the grooves of his mouth. His eyes, the same green as her own, held secrets. From his capture?
