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Inadvertently, it had been Dora who had offered a solution. Her turning up at his apartment had suggested a more unconventional approach and, forgetting his usual need for obsessive preparation, he had invited her to Macau.

He didn’t regret his uncharacteristic impulsiveness. His father had instructed him to do whatever was necessary, and here he had privacy and power.

His gaze drifted back to her face. But he had allowed himself to get distracted, and that was unconscionable given what was at stake.

Last night, after that ‘incident’ in the kitchen, he had decided it was time to rethink his strategy.

Dora was going nowhere—certainly not for these two weeks, anyway, and probably not in the years to come. Her accepting that would mean he could move towards his goal of formalising the length and frequency of Archie’s visits.

Happily, he knew the perfect way to help make a case for that happening. Giving Dora a tour of the casino and hotel complex would show her exactly what kind of life he could offer his half-brother. Plus, it would set a much-needed businesslike tone for their interaction.

First, though, he needed her to sit down.

‘There is no catch, Dora. I’m just offering you breakfast,’ he said softly. ‘And a chance for us to start again.’ He smiled. ‘I promise you can go back to hating me afterwards.’

That was the problem, Dora thought. She didn’t hate him. Or rather her body didn’t hate him.

But, whether she hated him or not, Charlie was never going to stop being Archie’s half-brother, and they couldn’t keep fighting for ever. Plus, it was difficult to resist some small softening in the stand-off between them.

Her pulse skipped a beat.

What would Della have done?

Her sister had always been so measured, so unselfish. She’d called it being the bigger person.

Perhaps this was the right time for her to be that person.

And perhaps Charlie had meant what he’d said, she thought ten minutes later.

The conversation was not what you might call ‘flowing’, but he was trying, and there were other compensations. The food was absolutely delicious, and for the first time since Della’s death Dora’s appetite had come back and she actually felt like eating.

A flutter of hope stirred inside her chest. Maybe other things might get back on track too. Not her career—that night in the club when she’d frozen on stage had put her off ever performing again. But it would be lovely to be able to sing for herself, for Archie...

‘Oh, okay, then—but don’t snatch.’

Archie was making a grab for her chopsticks and, grateful for the distraction, she let him have them. Mostly he ended up dropping everything she gave him, but it wasn’t worth an argument.

She knew she should be firmer with him, but it was hard. His tantrums didn’t just scare her, they scared him. And when he was scared he wanted his mother, and she hated that. Hated watching his face crumple when Della didn’t appear and, even though she knew it wasn’t personal, she hated it when he pushed her away.

A shiver ran down her back. The idea that one day he might do it for real, like everyone else in her life she’d loved, was almost unbearable.

‘He’s far too young to use them.’

Charlie’s voice broke into her thoughts and she glanced over at him warily. He was watching her, studying her, and instantly, predictably, she felt her face grow warm.

‘I know that,’ she said defensively. ‘But it doesn’t stop him wanting them.’

She was intently aware, not just of his gaze, but of him. His body. His breathing. It was crazy, but without even having to look she knew the tilt of his jaw, could sense the position of each of his limbs.

He leaned back. ‘Some children get the hang of it earlier, but right now Archie doesn’t have the necessary coordination.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘I suppose you learned this from your parallel life as a nursery nurse?’

There was a slight pause, and then he shook his head. ‘No, just from having been a two-year-old who used to get immensely frustrated at not being able to feed himself.’

Their eyes met across the table and she felt her heart lurch. She didn’t want to picture a two-year-old Charlie. It made him seem more human, and that was dangerous. And yet she couldn’t resist this tiny glimpse into his life.

Or the chance to tease him.


Tags: Louise Fuller Billionaire Romance