The Family She Needs Page 8

  What was it about Karina that had him prattling on so much? She didn’t need to know about his current situation. Nightmares excepted. She had enough of her own hassles to deal with.

  Remember that next time your tongue starts getting away on you, Logan. Forget that at your peril.

  Telling Karina the nitty-gritty of his life was allowing her too close—something neither of them needed.

  So when he returned to the dining table with Mickey in hand he said something that would keep her at a distance. ‘Have you ever thought about where you might like to live if this place sells?’

  ‘Not once.’

  ‘I hear there are some new subdivisions going on, with big homes being planned.’

  ‘I’ve got a big home.’

  Ice would have been warmer.

  Logan deliberately dug a bigger hole. ‘A sprawling, ramshackle building that needs painting, insulating and refurbishing?’

  ‘Mickey, don’t put your knife in your mouth.’ Karina watched the boy with an eagle eye, and totally ignored Logan.

  Jonty concentrated entirely on eating, shovelling his food in as though he didn’t know when he’d next eat.

  Logan forked up a mouthful of chicken and mushroom and chewed thoughtfully. The problem with getting what he wanted was that it wouldn’t necessarily make him any happier. Less so in this instance. He had pushed Karina away, but now he desperately wanted her back on side, laughing with him, not looking at him as if he intended stealing the roof from over the head of the person she loved.

  His belly soured. He knew with absolute certainty that he’d hurt Karina if he carried on with his plan before coming up with a better idea for her future—one that suited her. Even he finally understood that she meant it when she said she wasn’t leaving easily.

  He had some serious thinking to do.

  After dinner.

  As a yawn opened his mouth he grimaced. Make that after a good night’s sleep.

  At least with this level of tiredness he should manage to sleep right through and not have a nightmare.

  But then Jonty joined in, first banging his knife and fork down on his now empty plate, then asking, ‘What are you up to, Pascale? Selling? Over my dead body, lad.’

  Logan swallowed his mouthful. The day just kept on getting better and better.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘GET AWAY FROM ME,’ Logan snarled.

  The gun barrel was whipped across his back. Shafts of pain zapped through his body. No one believed in moderation around here. The only language these men used was violence.

  ‘I need the toilet. Get it? Moron...’ Logan muttered under his breath.

  A large man shoved at his shoulder hard, so he stumbled against a tree. Pain grabbed his calf muscle, where a wound from a machete festered.

  ‘Don’t touch me!’ Logan spat at his assailant.

  A hand gripped his forearm, shook him. ‘Logan.’

  ‘Ah! You’ve finally learned my name. Leave me alone.’

  ‘Logan.’

  That pesky voice persisted.

  ‘Logan, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.’

  What else could being used as a punch bag by these thugs be?

  ‘It’s me, Karina. You’re safe. You’re at James’s house. Wake up.’

  The shaking at his forearm grew stronger, more insistent. He opened his eyes barely enough to see what was going on. Karina? A nightmare?

  Reality slammed in. Another nightmare.

  Slowly, slowly, the evil in his skull faded and he felt safe enough to open his eyes fully. Karina sat on a low stool beside his bed, her hand still holding his arm. Her lovely face oozed concern. In the half-light from the hall she appeared smaller, softer, less than the energy-packed woman she really was.

  He shoved upwards to sit with his back against the pillow. Sweat rolled between his shoulder blades, poured from his brow into his eyes, the salt stinging.

  ‘I got you up again.’

  Her smile was blinding because it was for him. ‘No, Mickey did that. He needed to go pee-pee. Too much water before he went to bed.’

  ‘Thanks for waking me.’

  He’d deliberately sat up most of the previous night so he’d be so tired tonight he wouldn’t have a nightmare. Showed how much he knew.

  ‘Want a hot chocolate?’ asked the soft voice that banished the harsher ones in his head.

  ‘Love one.’

  ‘I’ll be right back.’

  Karina leapt up and headed for the kitchen, taking the warmth with her.

  Logan shivered, ran his hands up and down his arms, trying to heat his icy skin. When that didn’t work he scooped up his sweatshirt from the floor and pulled it on before finding his jeans. He was done with sleeping.

  ‘Why are you getting up?’ Karina asked from the doorway.

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. ‘I always do when this happens.’

  Her eyes were wide as she stared at him. Make that as she stared at his backside, if the direction of her startled gaze was anything to go by. So she’d got an eyeful? Didn’t look as if she thought the sight was too bad.

  She lifted her head and locked on his eyes. Her cheeks heated up a cute shade of pink. ‘Um...that milk will be ready.’

  She was gone, her feet slapping the carpet as she ran down the hall. She’d left the milk heating unwatched? That was unlike Karina.

  He followed, stopping when he saw her making her tea, not his chocolate. That sat waiting, ready, on the bench. So she hadn’t left the milk where it could boil over.

  The tension in his gut began backing off. He’d got under that smooth skin and tipped her world a little bit upside down. Cool. He liked that.

  Whoa. No, he didn’t. What had happened to staying clear of all involvement? Hadn’t he talked himself through this earlier in the day? He could not afford to get close to Karina in any context of the word.

  Pulling on an unemotional, uninvolved, just-a-friend kind of face, he picked up the mug of chocolate and watched as she dunked the teabag again and again.

  ‘That’s going to taste revolting if you keep mauling that bag.’

  Flick. The teabag and the teaspoon landed in the sink. ‘You should go back to bed with your drink. It might relax you enough to fall asleep.’

  Exactly. He wasn’t ready for another round with the guerrillas. ‘Think I’ll sit by the fire for a bit.’

  Nodding, as if she’d expected him to say that, Karina headed for the big room. ‘I’ll throw some wood on the fire.’

  Following slowly, he sipped his chocolate and watched the sway of her hips under that thick robe. He relaxed some more. She did that to him without even trying.

  When she’d finished stoking the fire she turned to him with a smile and he said, ‘I like it when you smile.’ It warmed him and curled his toes. Not to mention tightened his groin.

  The situation just kept getting more complex by the day. So he shouldn’t now be running his finger down one of those bewitching pink cheeks.

  ‘I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll smile more if you do. At least ten times a day.’

  Putting his mug aside, he reached to cup her chin, tipped her head back further, all the better to see every expression flitting across her face. ‘I don’t smile enough?’

  ‘Nope.’ She’d stopped smiling. Instead she looked sad. For him?

  He bent his head closer to that tantalising mouth, grazed his lips across hers. ‘I’ll try harder,’ he murmured.

  Karina whispered something he didn’t catch as he touched her mouth with his, pressing harder this time. She obviously hadn’t said stop, because right at this moment she was pushing her warm body against his hungry one.

  He responded by increasing the pressure of his kiss, and wh
en her mouth opened under his he slipped his tongue inside that sweet cavern and tasted her. When Karina danced her tongue across and around his mouth he lost all sense of everything except this wonderful woman his arms were suddenly wound around. She was exquisite: delicate yet strong, soft yet fiery, sweet yet acid.

  A low growl slid across his bottom lip. Karina jerked back, taking that sumptuous mouth with her. Her eyes were filled with some strange emotion he didn’t dare put a name to in case it echoed his own need. Her tongue traced her lips where moments ago his mouth had been, as though she was savouring him.

  Then she tamped down hard on all his heat and the sensations racing through his body.

  ‘Logan, we can’t do this.’

  ‘You’re right—we can’t.’

  But they just had, and he wasn’t ready to stop, no matter how sane and sensible that might be.

  She continued as though he hadn’t spoken. ‘It won’t solve a thing. Will make everything worse, if anything. We want different outcomes with this house, with Mickey’s living arrangements, with my life. We need to keep talking, get to know each other so we understand where we’re both coming from and where we’re headed.’

  She dropped into one of the armchairs.

  Damn, she was so right in one way. But he sought oblivion from the nightmares and where better than in Karina’s arms? Unfortunately it seemed Karina could haul the brakes on far easier than him.

  ‘I was getting to know you just then.’

  He sat opposite her. His mouth still felt the impression of her lips, still tasted her. Still wanted more of her.

  Her face hardened. ‘Don’t be flip.’

  ‘I wasn’t. That’s how I feel.’

  ‘Tell me about your nightmares.’

  Restless, he stood up to move closer to the fire. His skin still held a chill, his feet needed to be moving.

  Karina sipped her tea, both hands wrapped around the mug. ‘You said something about a gun the other night. Tonight you swore and mentioned going into your hut. You were very angry.’

  She’d got that right. Angry and unable to do a damned thing about it. Not during the nightmare, nor when it had been for real. He’d been caught up in something so big it had been terrifying. The vulnerability he’d known had unnerved him. No wonder he got angry. That worried him. Sure, he could get fired up, like anyone, but it was always short-lived. It wasn’t this gut-deep, almost out-of-control conflagration that consumed him.

  Another sip of tea and she was saying quietly, ‘Have you talked to someone about them?’

  Them? The nightmares? Or the men who’d done this to him? The shrink had told him only time and talking would help. The horror was locked in his head, sometimes getting as far as his throat, where it blocked off all the words pushing to spew out. Except when he slept. Then he seemed to be able to articulate some of his anger.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did it help?’

  ‘No.’

  Yet sitting here with Karina, watching her as she relaxed into her chair, he could feel the red-hot coils in his gut loosening, cooling. She’d done him more good than anyone else had.

  The next words he uttered slipped out before he’d finished thinking them. ‘You’ve got the biggest heart I’ve ever known.’

  ‘That’s one way of telling me to mind my own business.’ After a long moment she said tiredly, ‘I think it’s time I tried to get some sleep.’

  As in going to bed. Her bed. Alone. Where he couldn’t hold her or kiss her. Wise woman.

  ‘Karina?’ he called softly as she reached the door. ‘I’m not ready to talk. Yet.’

  But maybe the day would come when he could—with her.

  * * *

  Karina slid into bed and punched the pillow so it would mould around her neck and keep the cool air out. Closing her eyes, she waited for the sleep she doubted was there for her.

  She’d pushed Logan too hard with her questions, as though his kiss had given her the right. Her fingertip outlined her bottom lip. Why did I stop kissing him?

  Because there was too much between them—too much in his past, too much everything—to be getting so close to each other. Because, for her, a kiss was more than a smacking of lips. Kissing a man meant something. That man had to touch her in some indefinable way—and Logan did exactly that.

  Considering her stance on men these days, her reaction didn’t fit with her need to be independent. And from the few things he’d let slip she doubted Logan wanted a long-term relationship.

  His silences were full of stop signals, and yet she kept finding another question to ask, and another. The guy hurt so badly at times that the pain poured out of him. When he came out of those nightmares his eyes glittered with anger and fear and vulnerability. He’d hate it that she saw the vulnerability. He was a man’s man. He took pride in his strength, wouldn’t expect to be bested by anyone. Yet she knew someone had got the better of him.

  Who? Why? Where? In Africa, obviously, because he’d only been back in New Zealand a week and this wasn’t new. He had the jaded appearance of a man who’d been through these nightmares many times.

  From that blank expression when she’d asked about them, she wasn’t about to find out anything enlightening any time soon, if at all. Everyone was entitled to privacy, but her heart ached to be able to share, to take away some of that pain.

  Not going to happen.

  And that kiss...? Her lips softened as her forefinger again traced their outline. As far as kisses went it hadn’t been earth-shattering, but it had been damned close. Logan’s mouth on hers had warmed her right to the tips of her toes and made her happy. And excited. For someone intent on a solo life her world had been tipped sideways in a very disturbing way.

  ‘Kar—ina.’

  Mickey.

  She sighed as she shoved herself out of bed and groped around in the dark for her slippers and dressing gown. Mickey was quite capable of going to the bathroom on his own. The hall nightlight kept darkness at bay.

  ‘Coming, sweetheart,’ she called quietly.

  ‘I need pee-pee.’ Mickey was rubbing his eyes with his fists and looking absolutely adorable when she flicked his bedside light on.

  ‘You’ll have to cut back on drinks before bedtime if you’re going to keep waking up like this.’

  Once in the bathroom, Mickey was happy for her to go and straighten up the mess that was his bed. A restless sleeper, Mickey always managed to tangle his sheets and duvet, and to lose his pillow down behind the headboard.

  ‘I’m finished.’ Mickey appeared at her side. ‘I want a drink of water.’

  ‘Not a good idea. You’ll want to go pee-pee again.’

  ‘I’m thirsty.’

  ‘How thirsty?’ She felt his brow. No temperature. His face was its usual colour. Had he contracted that tummy bug? ‘Do you feel all right?’

  ‘Yes, very good. Can I have my water now?’

  ‘Get into bed and I’ll get it. A very small glass.’

  Along the hall she peeked into the lounge and spied Logan, sprawled out in the armchair, those long legs stretched close to the firebox. A gentle snoring filled the quiet.

  ‘Not returning to your bed again?’ she whispered. ‘Is this your way of fighting the nightmare’s return?’

  What would he do if she kissed his cheek or brow, like she did Mickey? She’d never know.

  Returning to Mickey’s room, she found him sound asleep. Tucking the sheets up over his shoulders, she gazed down at him. He was so cute it broke her heart. So far he hadn’t had to deal with any trouble from other kids about his Down syndrome, but the day would come and she wanted him to be strong and happy, so that he could cope with any teasing he might encounter.

  Back in bed, she let her worries about finding the money to buy out Logan fill he
r mind. What with David getting ill and the surgery overly busy, she hadn’t got around to phoning any other banks to make appointments with their managers. She’d start first thing in the morning. If that failed she’d have to come up with another solution.

  Like what? her brain taunted.

  The most obvious answer would be to call her father and tell him she would use some of her trust fund after all. But, despite having a sensible reason to do that, she wouldn’t. It would be tantamount to admitting she couldn’t manage without her family’s wealth. No. She’d find another way.

  ‘Pee-pee, Karina.’

  Alarm bells began beeping. Mickey used to have urinary infections regularly, but not lately. Three times in one night was not like him. Did he have an infection? Poor little man didn’t deserve one.

  It was nearly six and there didn’t seem any point trying to snaffle half an hour’s shut-eye. In the kitchen she made a cup of tea and sat at the table, opening yesterday’s mail. The power bill was higher than usual, but then she did use the clothes dryer during winter. The rates bill was there. Thank goodness for Jonty taking care of her tyres. He’d saved her heaps.

  Maybe Mr Bank Manager did have a point. She wasn’t a good risk for a loan. But she could and would always pay her way, no matter how hard it got. Coming from a background of endless money to spend on absolutely anything that took her fancy, learning to save should have been difficult for her, but it hadn’t. In Motueka she didn’t need loads of new clothes, didn’t go tripping off on exotic holidays. Life had become simple, and she loved it.

  Sure, there had been days when it had frustrated her that she couldn’t just hop on a plane to somewhere warm, or cool, or whatever her mood wanted at the time. But she’d soon learned she didn’t need any of that to make her feel good about herself. Realising that Ian had had too much control over her and she was now free had done that.

  But right now she did need money, and she wasn’t as free she’d like. She was tied to doing what Logan expected if she didn’t find that pot of gold, didn’t make him see there were other solutions than the one he was hell-bent on.