Unwrapping the Neurosurgeon's Heart - Page 73

‘Do you promise me?’

It was so small a gesture, yet so strong, making something kick hard in her chest.

‘I do,’ she choked out.

‘And you’ll thank that young man of yours?’

Despite herself, Anouk couldn’t help but smile.

‘I told you, he isn’t my young man.’

‘He is if you want him to be,’ came the surprising response.

For a moment, Anouk turned the idea over in her head.

Was he?

She wrinkled her nose and tried not to reveal her emotions. Everything seemed to be running so close to the surface these days, it was so unlike her usual self.

‘No. I don’t know if it really was once the case,’ she heard herself confessing. ‘But, if it was, it isn’t any more.’

‘That’s up to you, my flower. I know enough about men to know that one is yours for the taking. If you want him, go and get him.’

Anouk wasn’t sure if it was the grandmotherly advice or the term of endearment that tugged at her the most, but all of a sudden she had to fight the urge to break down. Right there and then.

But on the way home, her mind couldn’t stop spinning. The events of the past hour, and the past few weeks, all whirling around her head. She was a mess.

She was never a mess.

But was it because of her father? Her grandmother? Or just Sol? And, more significantly, how was she going to sort it—and herself—out? Whatever this thing was inside her, this gnawing, empty, hollow thing, it needed Sol to assuage it. She wasn’t prepared to go back to the life she’d had before him. She needed him. And whatever the

hell that meant—they would work it out together.

If Sol really was hers for the taking, how on earth was she to even set about doing such a thing?

And then it came to her. What had Libby once said about Christmas Eve being the most magical time? First, she was going to need to take a detour to the Care to Play centre.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

SOMETHING WAS DIFFERENT.

His home was...changed.

He had spent the entire day looking for Anouk. Checking her apartment, the hospital, the centre, even phoning Saskia so many times that an irritated Malachi had told him to give it up and go home for the night.

He hadn’t wanted to.

The moment he’d heard that Anouk had approached Malachi for her grandmother’s address, the need to find Anouk and ensure that she was okay had been overwhelming. He had no idea what her grandmother had ultimately told her and the fear that she was somewhere, alone and hurting, tore him up in a way he would never have believed possible.

If she was traumatised, then it would be his fault. He’d never intended for her to be ambushed by the knowledge of a grandmother she’d never met. He’d expected to be with her when they first met. And now he couldn’t find Anouk anywhere. She had to be somewhere.

All he could do was head home and try again tomorrow. She couldn’t hide out from him for ever. He wouldn’t let her. He couldn’t.

Sol stood, the front door still open behind him, as he tried to work out what it was. Slowly, as if his mind couldn’t believe what his body already sensed, he kicked the door to and moved carefully to the archway.

The scene beyond was like something out of his childhood.

The main lights were low, and the place was illuminated with pretty, twinkling Christmas lights whilst a miniature winter, Christmas village covered the entire room, from little shops and houses to ice-skating rinks, Ferris wheels and small-gauge trains.

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