Instead of cutting her off, Isla nodded, wrapping her arm around Darcie’s as if needing to hold onto something. “Maybe, Sean…maybe you should just go there. If you’re standing in front of her, she can’t ignore you.”
“Go to England?” he asked.
That was a fantastic idea.
Lucas had planted himself in Darcie’s path a couple of weeks ago, and she’d been forced to stand there while he’d had his say. Maybe Sean should do the same. Once everything was out in the open, they could decide what to do with the truth. Or at least Isabel would be forced to tell him to his face that she wanted nothing to do with him. Somehow Darcie didn’t think that’s what the other woman would say when it came down to it. But, whatever happened, it was up to the two of them to hash things out. It wasn’t Isla’s responsibility, and she shouldn’t have to act as intermediary, especially with a baby on the way. The last thing she needed was any added stress.
“I can give you her address, if you promise not to tell her where you got it,” Isla added.
“My contract at the hospital is almost up.” He dragged a hand through his hair, tousling the messy strands even more. “I’ll have to think about it.”
Isla’s chin angled up a fraction of an inch. “I guess it comes down to whether or not you really want to know why she left, or how much you might come to regret it if you never take the chance and ask.”
“I’ll let you know if I need that address.” With that, he strode down the hallway as if the very hounds of hell were hot on his heels.
Darcie sighed. “Do you think he will?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the better question would be…if he should.”
Why had he agreed to take her to the beach?
Lucas paused at the entrance to the car park to roll down the long sleeves of his shirt and button the cuffs against the cool air—or maybe he was gearing up for battle.
Having seen Darcie’s face go pink when she’d realized Cora was his niece and not his lover had made something come to life inside him…as had her comment about a love triangle. The fact that she’d envisioned herself with him in that way was so at odds with how she’d always treated him that her flippant words had intrigued him. As had the thought of seeing her outside her own environment. Would the woman he’d come to view as an English rose—beautiful skin, green eyes, and a set of thorns that would pierce the toughest hide—turn into someone different once she stepped off hospital property?
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