She stood. There was no time for tears now either, or recriminations. She needed to speak to Lukas, to thank him for all he was doing, and for all he’d agreed to do, the way she hadn’t done properly when he’d agreed to fly his private jet over the Atlantic just to substantiate her claims.
Yup, that was a pretty big clue right there that he wasn’t a total jerk, Bronte, you dope.
She almost winced at the ungrateful way she’d behaved on the flight over, resenting his presence and creating all sorts of nightmare scenarios and ulterior motives while ignoring the obvious answer—that Lukas Blackstone had wanted to help the boy who might be his nephew.
She let out a deep breath as she followed Dr Patel back onto Harry Potter Ward.
Lukas Blackstone was Nico’s uncle. It was official now. And she was going to have to get over any and all irrational fears about letting Lukas into Nico’s life. Because, of course, Lukas would want to get to know his brother’s child. He would want to play a part in his life. It was highly likely that the billionaire was going to be responsible for saving her baby boy’s life—which gave him certain rights. Lots of rights.
Nico sent her a sleepy grin as Bronte walked to his bedside.
‘You’re awake, Nikky!’ she said, grinning at him as she stroked the short silky curls of hair that had started to grow back after the latest round of chemo.
Her heart juddered. Maybe it would even be his last round of chemo.
‘I know,’ he said and she laughed.
He stretched out his arms and yawned. And she gathered him into her arms to hug him. ‘How are you feeling?’
His breath felt warm against her cheek as he snuggled into her embrace. ‘I’m ti
red,’ he said.
‘Okay, but I’ve got some important news for you. Maybe I should wait till tomorrow to tell you. I don’t want you to fall asleep.’
He pushed out of her arms and his little face screwed up in a frown of disgust, which only made her smile more. The resemblance to Lukas Blackstone was stunning, especially when Nico looked grumpy, she thought, stupidly tickled by the observation.
‘I’m not going to fall asleep,’ Nico said. ‘I’m not a baby. I’m going to be three and three-quarters next week.’ He yawned again, contradicting his assertion somewhat. ‘What’s the ’portant news?’ Nico asked dreamily.
‘There’s someone who has come all the way from New York to meet you. Which is a long way away, across an ocean. Remember I told you I was going to look for him, when I had to leave you?’
She’d made her trip into a story—a story which she had been careful not to imbue with too much hope—but it was hard to contain her optimism now.
‘The man with the special bones? Who’s going to make me better?’ Nico’s head lifted. The sparkle of excitement was something she hadn’t seen for a long time in Nico’s brown eyes and she realised that however non-committal she had tried to be, however careful, and however hard she’d tried not to hope too much, Nico had hoped for both of them. ‘Did you find him?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I did. Remember I told you he’s your daddy’s brother?’
‘My daddy that’s dead?’
‘That’s right. Lukas is a very special brother to your daddy called an identical twin, and he’s come all this way to meet you, and hopefully to help you get better.’ If the treatment didn’t work she would deal with it, but right now she wanted to feed the glow in Nico’s eyes. Whatever else Lukas Blackstone did, she would always be grateful to him for giving Nico hope.
Her eyes stung again when Nico’s lips crinkled into the cheeky smile she’d missed so much. ‘Is he a superhero?’
‘Yes, he is. He’s your own personal superhero—that’s pretty cool, isn’t it?’
‘Is that the Superman?’ Nico pointed over her shoulder. ‘He’s super-big.’
Bronte glanced over her shoulder. The blood rushed to her cheeks. And pounded hard in her chest. Despite the deliberately bright and airy surroundings of Harry Potter Ward, Lukas Blackstone looked as austere and forbidding as ever as he approached the bed with two men in dark suits and a woman in high heels holding a smartphone and busily typing things into it.
Keeping her hand securely on Nico’s narrow shoulder, Bronte got off the bed to face him, disconcerted by the huge height disadvantage. She knew she wasn’t a tall woman, but did he have to be quite so enormous?
‘Hi, Lukas, we’re so happy to see you,’ she said, trying to put as much friendliness and warmth into her voice as she could for Nico’s sake. If she found the man intimidating, how would a three-and-three-quarter-year-old feel?
‘Are you?’ Lukas said, the cynical lift of his eyebrow making her feel unbearably self-conscious before his gaze transferred to the child.
‘Yes, absolutely,’ she lied, wanting desperately to mean it. Clasping Nico’s hand, she was about to introduce them when Nico—who was clearly much braver than her—pushed up in the bed.
‘I’m Nico,’ he said. ‘Auntie Bronte says you’re my superhero. And you’re going to make me better.’