Unbreak My Hart (The Notorious Harts 4)

‘Thanks, I think.’

‘It was a compliment, I think.’ I shift a little, sitting sideways on his leg, not caring about the intimacy of this—the certainty it’s temporary allows me to let some guards down. ‘So what is this?’

‘You really want to know?’

‘I asked, didn’t I?’

‘It’s part of a post-Brexit review into trade arrangements. The law—as it moves from territory to territory—can be difficult.’

‘So you advise them on that?’

He nods.

‘Why you?’

His eyes lift to mine, a frown on his features. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You’re good at this?’

He laughs. ‘I guess I must be.’

He’s being modest or something, and I don’t have time for that. ‘How good?’ I narrow my eyes, regarding him intently.

He lifts his shoulders. ‘International law has always fascinated me. I’ve worked in it almost exclusively for a very long time.’

‘Almost exclusively? What else have you got in your bag of tricks?’

I feel his demeanour shift, his mood alter almost imperceptibly. ‘I handle a lot of the Harts’ personal business. Trusts, wills, that kind of thing.’

His words are measured but they serve as a reminder to both of us of the dynamite that exploded last night.

‘It’s more of a favour than anything else. When I graduated, Ryan got me a job with the firm they use. I moved into international law pretty quickly but felt I owed it to Ryan—and the faith he showed in me—to keep working for him.’

Something grinds to a halt inside me. All my life I’ve felt like an outsider, I’m used to it, but I wasn’t prepared for how it would feel to have this man speak about them—the Harts—with such obvious affection and familiarity.

‘I see.’ I go to shift off his lap but his hands grip me, holding me where I am.

‘Ryan was a complicated man, Avery. Selfish, ruthless, intelligent, determined. There was no one in his life who wasn’t, in some way, scarred by him. I’m sorry he hurt your mother.’

I bite down on my lip, wishing I’d asked Mom more, wishing she’d told me more.

‘It sounds like that was his modus operandi.’

‘You could say that.’ He strokes my side. I turn to face him, not sure what I’d been meaning to say. I simply sigh, the small sound a surrender of sorts. I don’t ever get close to people. I hate even the idea of that. And I’m not getting close to Barrett. But being here with him feels like the best way to process this weird turn of events. He’s like airbags for this information car crash.

‘Would you like some breakfast?’

I’m about to demur when my tummy rumbles audibly and a small smile creases my lips. ‘I guess I would.’

Again, I go to move but he holds me where I am, reaching to his left for the hotel phone. He lifts it up, his hand straying to the elastic of my pants, sliding inside to my hip as he places a breakfast order. His touch is easy and familiar, and totally natural.

When he disconnects the call, his other hand lifts to my chin, holding my face steady. ‘Let me tell you about your brothers.’

I bristle instinctively. I shake my head. ‘Stop saying that. They’re not my brothers.’

‘They’re Ryan’s other children—’

‘Yes. That’s not the same thing.’ I soften my reaction with a tight smile.