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‘Settling down with Anouk. Do you think you can do that?’
He knew it came across as a challenge, but he hadn’t intended it to. All he wanted was to understand. To be sure it wasn’t just himself making a mistake.
‘I’m not settling down,’ Sol denied.
‘Then why do you care? I mean, I get that you care about your patients, and the kids at the centre. But I’ve never known you to care about a woman enough to ask for my help.’
‘She’s...different.’
Malachi knew his brother was choosing his words carefully. Almost too carefully.
‘But that doesn’t mean there’s anything serious between us.’
‘Right...’
Malachi pushed his chair back abruptly and stood up, moving to the window to look out. Not at anything in particular—just as a way to escape the confines of the room, which suddenly felt a little stifling.
Not that it made any difference. Wherever he looked Saskia was back, plaguing his every thought.
Still, it caught him out when Sol suddenly spoke.
‘Who is she, Mal?’
Malachi swung around but said nothing. He had no idea what he could say. He didn’t even know what he thought.
Still, he didn’t like the way his brother was watching him a little too shrewdly. As if he knew what was going on.
‘I think I prefer the Sol who just beds women and moves on,’ Malachi bit out. ‘You’re acting like a lost puppy—Anouk’s lost puppy, to be exact.’
‘Sod off,’ Sol said casually, before standing up and sauntering over to the sideboard for more pastries. ‘I’m no one’s puppy.’
‘Not usually, no.’ Malachi shrugged. ‘You’re usually fending them off with a stick.’
‘What? Puppies?’ Sol quipped.
‘Puppies, women, little old ladies...’ Malachi folded his arms over his chest and shrugged. ‘But I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way I saw you look at that one the night of the gala.’
‘Her name’s Anouk,’ Sol corrected instinctively, realising too late that he’d been baited.
Interesting, Malachi considered.
‘And I didn’t look at her in any particularly special way.’
Malachi said nothing.
‘No clever quip?’ Sol demanded, when he clearly couldn’t stand the heavy silence any longer.
‘I told you—not this time.’
He could hardly batter his kid brother about Anouk when he had left Saskia at his castello, four months pregnant, in Imelda’s care.
What the hell was he even doing here in the UK?
‘What’s going on, Mal?’ Sol asked suddenly.
‘Nothing.’
‘You’re being cagey.’
