‘I guess I just didn’t think you’d be prepared to help.’
‘Why not?’
I stared at him for a second, momentarily lost for words. Did he really not know? Surely he couldn’t be oblivious to the tension that throbbed between us, the strange sort of antagonism that developed whenever we came within six feet of each other, or the turbulent history we shared. Surely it couldn’t all be a figment of my imagination? ‘Well, we’re not exactly friends, are we?’
His brow creased, a tiny frown that was gone in a flash that suggested I could have put it a little less bluntly. ‘That’s irrelevant.’
‘How so?’
‘I never let the personal get in the way of the professional.’
‘Then you’ll help?’ I said, thinking it was a relief to know we were on the same page when it came to that, at least, and mentally crossing my fingers.
He gave a short nod. ‘I’ll help.’
CHAPTER THREE
SOSEBHADbeen right, I thought, noting the determined set of Nick’s jaw and the glint of resolve—and possibly pound signs—in his eyes. Hewaswilling to put profit above clearly uncomfortable personal feelings and petty point scoring. Or maybe he felt he owed my family something. Payback for the weekends and holidays he’d once spent with us, perhaps. Whatever his motives, he was prepared to help, and thank God for it because up until this very moment I’d had no idea how truly stressed and overwhelmed I’d been by everything.
Recently, my hard-won self-reliance hadn’t felt like a strength. A noose round my neck would be a better description. Since the win, many had been the night I’d stared up at the ceiling riddled with anxiety, wishing I found it easier to trust in others and regretting that I couldn’t let people get close. One hundred and eight million pounds was an inconceivable, terrifying amount, and I’d had no one nearby to even talk to about it.
Until now.
Now I had the most unlikely of knights in shining armour, I realised, my defences fracturing at the knowledge I wasn’t in this alone any more. Nick would take care of my fortune. He wouldn’t rip me off. He had more than enough money of his own. On this, at least, I could trust him, I was sure, and the relief that then flooded my system was so profound, so immense it was almost palpable. The tightness in my muscles vanished. The tight knots in my stomach dissolved, and the tumultuous emotions I’d been keeping such a tight lid on lately—shock, worry, excitement, fear, to name but a few—burst free, buffeting me on all sides with a ferocity that whipped the breath from my lungs and blitzed my mind.
Beneath the onslaught, my heart pounded, my mouth dried and my limbs turned to water. The hand I pressed weakly to my chest trembled. My self-control was fast becoming history. I was seconds away from disintegrating into a sobbing grateful heap in front of a man who already thought me a superficial naïve fool, and alarmingly, distressingly, there seemed to be nothing I could do about it.
Until Nick’s voice cut through the fog and the madness.
‘Are you about to start crying?’
The horror I heard in his tone stopped the whirling of my thoughts and the emotional battering of my nerves in their tracks. Reeling back from the brink of collapse, I blinked rapidly and swallowed down the painful lump lodged in my throat. I took a deep breath and as my head cleared of the dizziness I straightened my spine and got a grip of both my teeming emotions and my still warm cup.
‘No, no,’ I said, taking a quick sip of coffee to disguise my distress and somehow managing to sound more or less normal. ‘Of course not.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely.’
It had been a close call but, thanks to Nick very much not being the sort of man to offer me a shoulder to weep on, danger had been averted at the last minute. If ever there was a time for a brutal lack of sympathy, a second ago had been it, and for that I was grateful.
‘Good.’ He gave a brisk nod, all business now, which my still fragile composure appreciated. ‘So whatdoyou want to do with your money?’
This was better. Plans. Logistics. I could handle practicalities far more than I could deal with emotion right now, and I’d been considering the options for weeks.
‘First, I’d like to buy a house,’ I said, calling to mind the list I’d made with its many question marks, all caps and crossings out.
‘You could buy a dozen houses.’
‘I don’t need a dozen,’ I said. ‘Just the one will do.’
‘A three-storey mansion in Chelsea with a garage for a fleet of cars?’
A replica of the home in which I’d grown up? Was that a dig? I tilted my head and regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, but it was hard to tell. He was giving nothing away. And yet I didn’t think I’d imagined the sardonic tinge to his words.
‘I’m not sure a man who owns an island paradise in the Indian Ocean as well as penthouse apartments in half a dozen capital cities across the globe is in much of a position to judge,’ I said, bristling a little.
‘Who’s judging?’