As did the rest of their audience. The cleaners had departed, as had Sophia Cincotta, but Trevor and Jackson’s lawyer were going nowhere. Both of them, for different reasons, were bristling with disapproval.

But Molly was oblivious. She sat while this big man with the gentle eyes and the even gentler fingers knelt before her and probed and cleaned and carefully dressed her hand. It was unnerving, to say the least. It was…

Heck, she didn’t know what it was. This man had a reputation a mile long where women were concerned and she was starting to see how he’d acquired it. He just had to touch her and…

‘There. Okay?’ He looked up at her and smiled, and she felt her heart do a crazy shift beneath her ribcage. Oh, for heaven’s sake!

‘Yes. Thank you. Now-’

‘Now your frog.’ He was still smiling at her, and it was a killer smile.

Angela handed over Lionel’s box, where he’d been placed for safekeeping. She looked at her friend strangely as she did so. It wasn’t like Molly to be this flustered. Interesting…

But Molly was still oblivious to anyone but Jackson. He had her mesmerised. He placed Lionel into her good hand and proceeded to do exactly what he’d promised, whittling a tiny splint, adjusting the leg so it was straight against the reed and then tying it carefully in place.

‘It’s as if he knows you’re helping him,’ Molly said, awed, and Jackson cast her another curious glance.

‘Yes.’

‘How long does he need to wear it?’

‘Maybe a couple of weeks. You’ll see the leg heal over.’

‘I can’t thank you enough.’

‘My lawyer did the damage.’ He lifted Lionel’s box and seemed to approve of what he saw. Sam had lined the box with plastic and soggy plant litter for the frog’s bed. ‘This is a great little recuperation unit.’ He lowered Lionel in and closed the box. ‘All done.’