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‘It’s basically the best news possible,’ Dr Patel announced on the other end of the line. ‘Obviously he’ll need to continue having regular check-ups for a while, so his progress can be monitored. But we’re not expecting any problems. Given the success of the treatment so far we have no reason to believe this isn’t the cure we were hoping for.’
They talked for a few moments more, Bronte only managing to effectively process about half of the information. Her eyes stung as she replaced the phone in its stand.
Nico’s dark head bent next to Maureen’s grey hair as he concentrated on cutting dinosaur shapes out of the cookie dough. Autumn sunshine streamed through the windows, giving his chestnut curls a healthy glow.
Bronte blinked furiously to stop the happy tears from falling. Everything had been going so well, but this... This was freedom. It was a new start. A future.
‘Can I eat the dough?’ Nico pestered Maureen, gloriously oblivious to the enormity of the news they had just received, while the older woman placed the cookies in the oven.
‘No dough, sweetheart—it has raw egg in it. Why don’t you help me clean up the mess?’ Maureen said.
Nico bobbed his head enthusiastically, then set about making more mess than he was actually clearing up—while Maureen spoke to Bronte in a hushed tone. ‘Good news?’
‘The best.’ Bronte’s eyes welled again, and Maureen walked over to wrap a warm arm round her shoulders. She handed Bronte a tissue.
‘Why don’t you take a moment, dear? I can get Nico fed and bathed and into bed tonight.’
‘Are you sure?’ Bronte said, blowing her nose.
‘Of course I’m sure. You’ve been with him all day—you’re entitled to a break too, you know?’
Brushing the specks of flour off her jeans, Bronte stood up.
‘Okay, thanks,’ she said, feeling way too tearful. She didn’t want Nico to see her being over-emotional. She had been striving for as normal an environment as possible over the last two months since he’d returned home. Well, as normal as she could be when they were living in a twenty-eight-and-a-half-million-pound palace in Regent’s Park.
‘I should probably contact Lisa to let her know the news,’ Bronte added.
So Lisa could relay it to the man who would not speak to them, she thought as she gave Nico a quick cuddle, which made him giggle.
Leaving the room, she headed up the kitchen stairs to the mansion’s ground floor.
She entered the huge double-height reception room which she and Maureen had transformed into a cosy yet airy play area and family living space.
She loved this room. With two big comfy sofas, a child-sized desk and chair and Nico’s favourite toys and games and a range of art supplies piled onto shelves built into the room’s alcoves plus a fireplace with a childproof guard, it was the perfect space for her and Nico to hang out each afternoon when she collected him from the private nursery he attended around the corner.
She pulled out her mobile and keyed in Lisa’s number but, as her thumb hovered over the call button, Bronte’s heart thudded painfully and the conversation she would have with the personal assistant played through her mind. She would give Lisa her news, the woman would promise to pass it on to Lukas and try to get him to return her call in person—which they both knew he wouldn’t do.
You’re just as much of a coward as he is, Bronte O’Hara.
Wasn’t she facilitating his non-involvement in Nico’s life, by agreeing to relay all the essential information through Lisa? Lisa had told her a week ago Lukas was based in London at the moment, using the Blackstone Park Lane as his home base while he toured Blackstone’s European properties. Lisa had, of course, attempted to persuade him to visit them in Regent’s Park—but no such visit had been forthcoming. Bronte had no doubt at all that Lisa had tried, but as Lukas’s employee it was hardly her job to persuade her billionaire boss to do something he didn’t want to do.
Bronte’s insides turned over as she switched off the phone and stuffed it back into her pocket.
This was ridiculous. She had incredible news. News that Lukas Blackstone was mostly responsible for. She had to stop letting him use Lisa as a buffer. And she had to stop using Lisa as a buffer herself.
It was time for her to man up and face her own demons. So what if she’d had that silly emotional blip—and all but melted into a puddle of unrequited need—the last time she’d been alone in a room with the man face to face. She’d been stressed beyond belief at the time and overwhelmed by the sudden twists and turns that his presence in her and Nico’s lives represented.
But she was over that now. Nico was well again, and they were settled and happy in the house Lukas had purchased for them. He needed to hear how his nephew was doing from her—and he needed to man up too and be told in no uncertain terms that Nico needed him to be so much more than just a bottomless bank account.
If Lukas Blackstone still wanted to blank them both after that, then so be it. She couldn’t force him to be present in Nico’s life. But, for all their sakes, she had to at least try.
Texting Dave, their chauffeur, she headed out of the family room and grabbed her jacket.
Time’s up, Lukas Blackstone. I’m not scared of you or my reaction to you any more.
Or not much, she thought, as she planted her bottom on the Mercedes’ soft leather seat and the hot brick in her stomach became wedged in her throat.
CHAPTER FIVE
