Lisa’s phone blared out a ringtone, shattering the silence.
She answered it and her eyes widened. ‘Okay, I’ll let him know.’
She cupped her hand over the receiver and said under her breath, so that only he could hear, ‘It’s Dex. He says it’s about Bronte.’
He didn’t wait to hear more, but grabbed the phone and marched out of the room. ‘Make my excuses,’ he said over his shoulder and headed into a private office next door.
‘Dex, what’s going on with Bronte?’ Was she sick? Had something happened to her? The thundering in his chest became painful and he began to feel light-headed as the blood raced out of his head and flooded into his heart.
The flop sweat was back, dampening his shirt—the monstrous thoughts careering through his mind more terrifying than every one of his childhood nightmares. He wrenched open the button on his collar, loosened his tie, struggling to get enough air into his lungs to stay upright as his PR chief began to speak.
‘I’ve just had a call from one of my contacts at Sleb Hunt,’ Dex said, mentioning one of the most intrusive Internet gossip sites. ‘They’ve got pictures of your nephew’s aunt leaving an abortion clinic this morning.’
‘What?’ he croaked, his mind failing to compute the news.
‘According to my sources, she’s not having an abortion,’ Dex continued as the decibel level in Lukas’s ears rose to deafening and his thundering heart began to choke him. ‘She was only there for pregnancy advice and she’s been referred to a doctor for antenatal care. The even better news: the press are already speculating the kid is yours. Please tell me it is,’ Dex a
dded and for the first time Lukas caught the febrile excitement in the man’s tone. ‘Because this could be the major coup we’ve been waiting for with the family demographic on social media.’
But Lukas couldn’t make any sense of the words any more. Because the only thing that kept going through his mind was the image of Bronte as she’d been yesterday—sweet, seductive, happy, the veneer of innocence and acceptance capturing his heart—and the shattering truth.
She’s pregnant and she didn’t tell me.
He wanted to be angry. But all he felt was betrayed. The frozen feeling numbed his brain, dragging him back to the lowest point in his life. Aged seven, the bandage on his face itching, his head aching with the effort to hold back the sobs locked in his throat, his limbs limp with exhaustion after the endless nightmares filled with monsters he knew were real.
Paying the ransom would have been a bad business move, Lukas.
‘Lukas, are you still there?’ Garvey’s hectoring voice pulled him back.
‘Sure,’ he said, clearing his throat. His larynx felt as if someone had sandpapered it.
‘So is the kid yours?’ Garvey asked.
‘Yeah, it’s mine.’ The surge of possessiveness was all-consuming—and finally forced the anger at her deception to the fore. To cover the hollow ache.
Garvey cursed. ‘Why didn’t you tell me sooner, buddy? We could have managed this situation a lot better. But hey, this is terrific news...’ The PR chief’s voice perked up considerably as he droned on about weddings and honeymoons and social media outreach, but Lukas had already tuned him out.
Bronte had lied to him, and carried on lying. Why was he even surprised? And why did it even matter?
Surely all that mattered now was the child. His child.
CHAPTER NINE
BRONTE STEPPED OUT of the limousine Lukas had sent to collect her, startled by the flash of lights.
‘This way, Miss O’Hara.’ James, her regular bodyguard, ushered her towards the hotel’s back entrance, shielding her from the muffled shouts.
She’d seen the paparazzi amassing outside the house before she’d left. It had to be a slow news day. But she didn’t have the time or the emotional capacity to worry about them catching her coming into the Blackstone Park Lane.
She was already twenty minutes late because she’d decided to take a quick shower and dress up properly to see Lukas. She always came over in her jeans and T-shirts, because he never gave her enough time to change before sending the car. But this time she wanted to feel feminine and confident, ready to tell him news that she hoped would change his life, as well as hers, for the better.
She’d been expecting a call from Lukas during the ride over, demanding to know what was keeping her, but luckily it hadn’t come. Because she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to flirt with him again without blurting out the truth.
They headed down the corridor towards the hotel’s opulent foyer, leaving the photographers behind them.
‘What was that about?’ she asked as they entered the penthouse elevator and James stabbed the button.
‘I don’t know, miss.’