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She looked down at her list and hesitated. A month ago she’d wanted to never set eyes on her mother again. To completely wash her hands of her. After this last betrayal, she’d thought herself incapable of caring the smallest amount about Diana.
And yet, over the past few weeks of having a clear goal and vision for her own life, of talking to Zara over video calls, of watching her sisters move on in their lives, she’d realized it wasn’t in her to just walk away. To close her heart off. To abandon her mother when gambling was a mental illness.
What if Diana needed a fresh chance like Yana was getting from Nasir, albeit at a high price? Would she ever be happy if Diana wasn’t also in a good place?
Her decision was driven not just by common sense but compassion and a sense of duty, too. Breaking away from toxic patterns, suddenly felt like it was within her reach. She could move forward with her own life then. But of course, she needed help. First, to gain a spot in that clinic she’d researched; second, to be able to pay for it; and third, to convince Diana to give it a try.
She’d decided to add the first two to Nasir’s list.
“I need a recommendation for a rehab clinic. I’ve done my research and found one that’s nestled in the Swiss Alps, but it’s expensive and very exclusive. They usually only take people based on recommendations. From big shots like you.”
His gaze immediately latched on to hers. “Rehab?”
“Yep. I’ve decided to tackle the bull by the horns, so to speak. For my gambling,” she added, her throat dry over the lie.
Instead of seeing relief or even the self-righteous “I knew it” that she’d expected, a thoughtful look entered his eyes. “I’m glad you decided to seek professional help. Is it that bad, though?”
There was a tenderness to his voice that her brain wanted to cling to. Or was it her stupid heart? “How about we leave it to me to be the judge of that,” she said tersely, because she didn’t want him to probe.
“Of course, you’re the judge,” he added in a kind tone.
She sighed. Every dialog between them felt charged. Or perhaps she was making it so. “Some of us develop unhealthy, damaging coping mechanisms to deal with life.” She wasn’t addicted to gambling but she was addicted to something else, all right. “Not all of us are perfect with iron-clad control like you.”
His mouth twisted with bitterness. “Not only am I far from perfect, but I’m only realizing now howmyunhealthy coping mechanisms have hurt others. At least you’re self-aware. I have been deliriously, arrogantly oblivious of my own failings.”
Now it was she who wanted to probe. That wanted to dig and dig until he was fully revealed and unraveled in front of her. That he’d hurt Jacqueline with his inability to love her was common knowledge between them. And yet, he’d never seemed to mind much before. She’d never seen a single hole in his convictions and beliefs about how he’d conducted his life.
Instead of giving full rein to that fascinated part of her, she forced herself to look down at her notepad.
“I will personally speak to someone on the board of administration,” he said into the building silence. “Just let me know the timeline.”
She nodded, running her finger down her scribbled list. “The next few things are not that big of a deal. I’m charging you twenty million euros for the three months. I’d prefer a bunch of chaperones as a buffer while I spend time with Zara and...”
His laughter was loud, booming around in the intimate space, pinging all over her skin. She looked up and lost her breath.
Head thrown back, muscles of his neck clenched tight, he was a study in masculine beauty. Attraction and desire tugged at her, a hook under her belly button pulling her closer, urging her to touch that smile, to taste that smile. Damn, she had it bad.
“What’s so funny?” She went for irritation to hide her helpless attraction.
It was several minutes before he sobered up. “You are one expensive nanny, aren’t you?”
A smile twitched at the corner of her lips. “Well, I guess I am. And please, before you come out with insults that I should be doing this out of the goodness of my heart, out of my love for Zara, don’t. That’s the price of me spending time under the same roof with you. Knowing that you will be overseeing everything I say, judging me, and...” It was hard to stay detached or antagonistic toward him when he looked at her with that smile stretching his sensuous lips.
“Fine. Agreed. You will have enough money at the end of three months. And believe me, we will have chaperones galore.”
She turned a page on her notepad, gathering the courage to ask the most important question.
“Is that it?”
“I want Zara to spend one month out of every year with me going forward. It could be two periods of two weeks or four different weeks. I want that written into a contract.”
“No.”
Neither of them was surprised by his instant, biting answer.
The surge of rage and something else—a sharp helplessness, in her expression—told Nasir he’d given her the answer based on the rules and rationale that drove him. Had he been too quick to reply without thinking it over?
She tapped a pink nail incessantly over the table. “That one condition is non-negotiable. If you don’t agree, I’ll turn around and leave the second this plane lands.” Every word was enunciated with a staggering conviction behind it.
