Bound By Their Scandalous Baby. Heidi RiceЧитать онлайн книгу.
of the gown. But as she craned her neck, trying to see Lukas’s tall frame as he disappeared down the corridor, a terrible feeling of foreboding descended.
‘And it’s such spectacular news that Mr Blackstone has come over to help,’ Maureen added, but the enthusiasm in her voice only made the ball of anxiety in Bronte’s stomach knot.
‘Is it?’ she said.
Maureen’s warm smile became quizzical. ‘What’s wrong, dear? You don’t look as ecstatic as I thought you would.’
Bronte sighed. Maureen had been her rock ever since she’d moved into the flat above Bronte’s a year ago. A retired nurse with no family of her own, she had been only too willing to step in whenever Bronte needed a babysitter. She’d been indispensable since Nico’s illness. And Nico adored her.
‘I’m not sure Blackstone has any intention of helping Nico, even if the DNA test comes back positive,’ Bronte said, voicing her fears.
Maureen glanced over her shoulder, but her smile remained relaxed. ‘Bronte, you’re tired. And stressed. You really mustn’t worry any more than you have to. Dr Patel told me Mr Blackstone made a million-dollar donation to the hospital’s charitable trust last night. And he’s come all this way. Surely he wouldn’t have done all that if he didn’t intend to help Nikky?’
Blackstone had made a million-dollar donation? The news stunned Bronte, but it did nothing to ease her panic, or her sense of foreboding.
Maureen squeezed Bronte’s arm. ‘All you really have to worry about now is whether Mr Blackstone is the match we need.’ The older woman’s smile glowed with all the optimism Bronte no longer felt. ‘Given that he’s the spitting image of Nikky, I think we can already hazard a guess what the DNA test will reveal.’
Bronte nodded, forcing her jetlagged mind not to go to places she couldn’t handle right now. ‘Okay.’
They walked down the corridor together to the children’s ward. Maureen left her at the door with another hug and an admonition not to worry.
But still the anxiety threatened to choke her as she rushed in to see Nico. What if the donation wasn’t about generosity, but about control? She didn’t trust Lukas Blackstone as far as she could throw him.
And what had he meant by saying she would have serious questions to answer?
ALEXEI HAS A SON. A son who is seriously ill.
Lukas kept his face carefully impassive. But his mind was reeling with shock at the news... And the strange hollow space in his chest was not helping.
So Darcy O’Hara hadn’t lied. And neither had her sister. But any charitable feelings he might have felt for the women—particularly Bronte—were quickly quashed. She’d kept the boy’s existence a secret for three years. What if the child hadn’t gotten sick? Would she ever have told him about his brother’s son?
Doubtful.
He remembered the defiance in her eyes and he let the welcome wave of temper consume the black hole in his stomach.
‘The DNA results don’t just confirm a ninety-nine per cent probability that your brother fathered Nico.’ The young doctor smiled. ‘They also suggest a very good likelihood of a match between you and Nico for the purposes of his treatment. We’ll have to do a proper work-up, which will take approximately twenty-four hours, to check all the specifics but, given that you and his father were identical twins, the chances are you will be a perfect candidate, if you’re willing to give your consent?’
‘Of course,’ he said. If his bone marrow could save the child, he’d have to be a monster not to agree to do it.
Especially as Alexei had always longed for a child. It was the news that he would never father one that had sent Alexei into a tailspin of destructive behaviour as a teenager. While Lukas had stamped out any and all emotions that could make him vulnerable as a child, Alexei had done exactly the opposite—determined to live life on the edge, test every boundary and embrace the recklessness that had eventually killed him. The irony didn’t escape Lukas now—the woman he had blamed for his brother’s demise had actually given Alexei a life after his death.
For that reason alone, this child must bear the Blackstone name.
‘Would you like to meet your nephew?’ the doctor asked. ‘While we wait for the blood work?’
Lukas felt the hollow sensation grow. He wanted to say no. The one thing he had no desire to do was bond with this child. But he supposed it would be necessary to at least meet the boy.
‘Certainly, but I have business to attend to first.’ He needed to start putting the wheels in motion—to make sure he controlled this situation from here on.
He stood up and tugged his cell phone out of his pocket. ‘I’ll come back in later today to meet the child.’ Once he was fully prepared for the encounter.
The doctor sent him a tentative smile, obviously confused by his reluctance to meet his nephew immediately, but she didn’t comment except to say, ‘I’d like to inform Bronte of the news—she’ll be overjoyed to hear that you may well be the partial match we need.’
He nodded and then left the room, making the first call to his lawyer.
Somehow he doubted Bronte would be overjoyed for long.
The boy was a Blackstone now—and, once the news got out, even his devoted aunt wouldn’t be able to protect the child from the fallout.
* * *
‘So this is good news?’ Bronte felt something break open inside her as Dr Patel smiled benevolently and nodded.
‘It’s excellent news, Bronte. Obviously we have to do a full work-up, but already the signs are phenomenally good.’
‘And Blackstone has agreed to donate his bone marrow?’ Bronte asked, the joy starting to roll through her, smashing through all the barriers, all the walls she had constructed against the worst of her fears for so long. She’d had to stay strong for Nico, had refused to admit defeat or to shed a single tear through the long hours of treatment. So much so that this new glimmer of hope felt like a massive relief.
‘Yes, he has,’ the doctor repeated, not for the first time.
‘Did you tell him how gruelling it is?’ Bronte asked again, not quite able to believe Lukas Blackstone was the saviour she’d hoped for.
‘Yes, as I said, I’ve talked him through the procedure and he didn’t even bat an eyelid before agreeing.’
Bronte’s knees began to shake, the exhaustion rising up to smash through the numbness. She felt as if she were floating—floating on a wave of hope—as a single tear rolled down her cheek.
‘Bronte, sit down.’ The doctor sounded firm as she pressed her into one of the hard plastic chairs in the children’s ward waiting room. Then she handed her a tissue.
Bronte blew her nose loudly and wiped the foolish tear away, trying to take it all in. A laugh, the first real laugh she’d managed in longer than she could remember, burst out. ‘I can’t... It’s such good news I can’t quite believe it.’
Dr Patel sat down beside her and patted her arm. ‘Obviously we’ve still got a long way to go, but all the signs are good now and in our favour.’
‘I know... It’s just...’ She turned to Dr Patel. ‘I thought he was such a jerk. I’d convinced myself even if he were Nico’s uncle he’d refuse to help him.’ She screwed up the tissue in her hands, suddenly feeling guilty about her doubts and desperately ashamed of her behaviour.
She’d judged Lukas Blackstone without knowing him, had assumed he was an arrogant, privileged, entitled jerk. And now he’d agreed to