* * *
‘Can you come see me tomorrow?’ Nico stretched his arms above his head and opened his mouth in a yawn so big it was a wonder he didn’t dislocate his jaw.
‘I can’t,’ Lukas said, but Bronte couldn’t help noticing his look of dismay when Nico’s face fell comically. ‘I have business in the Maldives for a few weeks.’
‘Where’s the Maldives?’ the little boy asked.
‘It’s in the Indian Ocean.’
‘Can I come with you?’
‘Um...’ Lukas stalled again, clearly not knowing what to say, and Bronte felt her heart stutter again, as it had been doing all morning.
Lukas had surprised her. He’d been patient and approachable and attentive in the past two hours with the little boy, fielding endless questions, listening to Nico’s rambling conversation on everything from his nursery school teacher to his favourite TV shows, while diligently building a veritable Lego conurbation for Dora the Explorer and all her friends. But as she watched Lukas struggle to answer this latest question, clearly weighing up what to say, Bronte suspected the person Lukas had surprised most was himself.
Despite his reluctance to come here, and what she now suspected was his initial moment of panic when Nico had greeted him so enthusiastically, Lukas had bonded this morning with his brother’s son—and comprehensively lost the battle he had been waging up to now not to engage with Nico. Making her all the more curious about why Lukas had been so determined not to make that connection.
‘Stop badgering your uncle, munchkin,’ she said, taking pity on Lukas. She leant over Nico from the other side of the bed and lifted the covers to tuck them securely around him.
‘Aw but...’ Nico began.
‘Not another word.’ She tapped his nose with her fingertip. ‘You need to go to sleep.’
‘But I’m not even tired,’ the boy said around another huge yawn. ‘And I don’t want Uncle Lukas to go away. Because then I’ll never see him again.’
The pang hit Bronte squarely in the chest—the yearning in Nico’s voice echoing thoughts and feelings of her own that she knew she couldn’t afford to acknowledge.
‘I’ll come back to visit when I return,’ Lukas offered and Bronte felt her heart thud in her throat, her emotions in turmoil again. She wanted to encourage Lukas’s involvement with Nico, especially as she could already see how beneficial this connection could be, not just for Nico but for Lukas too. But by sleeping with him last night, she had complicated the situation immeasurably.
Her awareness of him all morning had only added to her turmoil. Watching him interact with Nico with such surprising tenderness and sensitivity had only made the desire rippling over her skin every time she felt his gaze on her—watching and assessing—that much more acute. How was she supposed to resist this yearning, to keep the barriers in place she’d been struggling to erect all morning, if she began to like him, as well as desire him?
‘Do you promise?’ the little boy said, the excited tone making the pang in Bronte’s chest sharpen.
‘You have my word,’ Lukas said, the solemn tone making it clear his word was something he didn’t give lightly, and would never break.
Nico’s eyes widened with a look that could only be described as awes
truck.
‘Now do what your aunt tells you, and go to sleep,’ Lukas added. He levered himself off the bed, but then reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair in an impromptu gesture which seemed to surprise him as much as Nico.
The light, fleeting touch was like a magic wand.
‘Yes, Uncle Lukas,’ Nico mumbled, his eyelids drooping before he rolled over in the bed and dropped into sleep, obeying the command without question.
Lukas’s dark gaze connected with hers from across the bed as she stood too. The heat between them—that had been simmering beneath the surface all through the morning—flared to life. And the memory of another promise—to talk to Lukas privately before he met Nico today—screamed across the distance between them.
Flustered and far too aware of all the reasons why she did not want to risk having that conversation now, when her emotions were even more volatile than they had been last night, Bronte shot towards the door.
‘I’ll see you out,’ she said. ‘Maureen said your driver is waiting to take you to the airport.’
He had a flight to catch. They didn’t have time to talk about anything. She was safe for today. Nico and his boundless energy and excitement at meeting Lukas properly for the first time had saved her, as she knew it would. She stifled the prickle of guilt. This visit was always supposed to be about Nico’s relationship with Lukas, not hers. Not that she even had a relationship with him. Not one she intended to pursue anyway.
But as she darted ahead of Lukas, strong fingers snagged her wrist—and drew her to a sudden halt.
‘Not so fast. Aren’t you forgetting something?’ The tone was curt.
‘I don’t think so,’ she said, tugging on her wrist.