‘I don’t have a nephew.’

That took him aback. He stared up at her. ‘Of course you do.’

‘There’s no of course about it. You must have mistaken me for someone else. I only have one sister-Lara-who I haven’t seen for years. That’s the way we like it. Last time I saw Lara she was attached to a millionaire up on the Gold Coast, and if you’re asking me if she has children I’d say you’d have to be joking. Lara would no sooner risk losing her gorgeous figure through childbearing than she would fly. Now, if you don’t mind…’

It was absurd, Marc thought. The whole scenario was absurd. She was lifting a drill and any minute now she’d turn it on, drowning out his words with her noise.

But she’d said her sister’s name. Lara. It confirmed what he had already been sure of. This woman was Lara’s sister.

But what had she said? She hadn’t seen her for years? The anger faded. Dear God, then she didn’t know.

‘Lara Dexter was your sister?’

‘Is,’ she snapped, and he heard the sudden surge of fear behind her irritation.

He took a deep breath. He hadn’t expected this. What the hell was the mother playing at? If she really hadn’t been told… He stared up at the girl in the tree and thought, where on earth did he go from here?

There was nowhere to go but forward. There was no easy way to say what had to be said.

‘Miss Dexter, I’m sorry, but your sister was married to my cousin. They were married three years ago. Jean-Paul and Lara were killed at a ski resort in Italy five weeks back. They have a child, Henry, who’s currently living in Sydney. He’s being cared for by a nanny whose wages I’ve been paying, but his care…his care is less than satisfactory. He’s ten months old. I’m here to ask your permission to take him back to Broitenburg.’

Tammy’s world stopped right there.

She froze. The drill in her hands seemed suddenly a stupid thing to be holding, and she stared at it as if she didn’t know what it was.