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He couldn’t possibly have known that she would come here, but she couldn’t shift the feeling that that was exactly what had happened.
And now she was here.
With him.
In his apartment.
She felt suddenly very stupid and very small.
‘Getting someone pregnant only makes a man a father in the most literal sense,’ she said, trying to control her voice. ‘Della did everything for Archie—she got up for him in the night, she carried him and bathed him and sang to him.’
Her heart thudded heavily in her chest. She had once sung to Archie too.
There was a tense silence.
‘And now she’s gone,’ he said finally.
Dora looked away, blinking back sudden hot tears, her shock at his response buffering the pain beneath her ribs. Never—or not that she could remember anyway—had she met anyone as cold as him.
But then she’d never met Lao Dan. He had clearly taught Charlie Law everything he knew about ruthlessly going after what he wanted. Like father, like son, she thought with a surge of anger. Except that Archie—Della’s Archie—was Lao Dan’s son too, and Dora couldn’t imagine him being so controlled and detached. He was such a sweet, loving little boy...
Blocking her mind to the hollowed-out feeling that always accompanied thoughts about her sister, Dora sat forward. ‘But I know what she would have wanted for him.’
‘As do I,’ he said quietly. ‘She would have wanted him to be with you. You’re his family.’ His eyes were looking directly into hers. ‘But so am I. He has my blood...my DNA...’
He paused, and something in his dark eyes made her throat tighten.
‘And together we share a birthright.’
A birthright. Did he mean some kind of inheritance?
She glanced over at him. He was seemingly watching the river, but she knew that it was a pretence.
Heat shivered over her skin.
There was something connecting them—something gossamer-fine and yet tenacious, so that it wouldn’t matter even if her eyes were shut. She would know where he was.
She could feel him.
And he felt it too.
Heading off the unsettling implication of that thought, she replayed his words in her head, letting anger swamp her panic.
‘Birthright?’ She shook her head. ‘You know, for a moment there I actually thought there was another side to you. But everything comes back to money with you, doesn’t it?’
Her eyes narrowed on his profile.
‘Well, you’re wasting your time—and mine. Like I already told you, I don’t want your money.’
‘Maybe not.’ Now he turned to look at her. ‘But it’s not your money to refuse, is it?’ he said without preamble.
The simple question made her spine snap to attention and she glared at him. He was messing with her head, twisting her intentions.
‘I know what you’re doing,’ she said shakily. ‘But don’t try and make me out to be the bad guy here. I’m not the one throwing around bribes and making oh-so-subtle threats.’
‘No, but you are deliberately refusing to even discuss something that would give Archie a better life.’
He was lounging on the sofa with his legs sprawled out in front of him. Her pulse jumped. Take away the shirt and tie and he’d look almost like one of her mates, recovering from a very late night, she thought. But Charlie Law wasn’t suffering from a hangover. Beneath his stillness she knew he was thinking, deliberating, choosing his next words with meticulous care.
