toes, her face. He might be too lean for her taste, but her body didn’t seem to care if the way it responded when she looked at him was an indicator. His face was gaunt, as if he needed feeding up. But those eyes were what really caught at her. Piercing, yet guarded, while also holding a hint of humour and compassion. A disturbing mix.
Oh, man, this was so wrong. The guy should come with a warning label. Don’t come near unless you hold all the aces. She was short on aces today. Worse, she couldn’t stop staring.
Tall … Okay, anyone was tall compared to her. Oh, and he had the most gorgeous crop of overlong black hair, while his day-old stubble made her mouth water.
‘Karina, I want my clothes!’ Mickey yelled.
‘Coming,’ she called back, far more quietly.
‘I’ll wait for you in the kitchen,’ her distracting visitor told her. ‘Want me to make that hot chocolate I heard you mention?’
‘With marshmallows, ta.’
He was already acting as if he lived here. She shrugged. Get over it. Logan Pascale owned half the place; he could come and go as he pleased. Was that good or bad? That warmth he’d engendered evaporated, leaving her shivering with cold and apprehension as she opened drawers to find Mickey some clothes.
Logan did hold all the aces. He wanted to sell the place she’d made her home and had believed she’d live in for many years to come. He had as much right to make decisions about the property and Mickey’s future as she did. But had he even heard of joint decisions? Her sigh was filled with annoyance and frustration of the most irritating kind. If he thought selling up would help his nephew’s cause then he didn’t know damn all about Mickey.
But of course he didn’t. Visiting briefly once a year meant he hardly knew his nephew. Hadn’t seen the day-to-day growing up stuff, didn’t know what he liked and hated, wouldn’t understand how the Down syndrome affected him.
No doubt Logan intended getting things done fast so he could fly away again, leaving her to cope with the mess he’d created.
Well, think again, Pascale. I’m made of stronger stuff. You won’t get away with it. I’ve grown a backbone because of men like you. Men who charm women out of their three-inch-high shoes all because they have a hidden agenda.
LOGAN DRAGGED HIS eyes forward and headed to the kitchen. His mouth twisted into a tight smile. He might have stopped staring at that bundle of unbridled energy, but her image still seared his brain. Her small body, with those clothes moulded to each and every curve, those enormous eyes the colour of the hot drinks he was about to make blinking out of that elfin face.
From the little he knew about her he understood that she’d walked away from an extremely comfortable life and all that entailed. He certainly hadn’t been expecting to be surprised by her energy for life. When he’d first seen Karina carrying on in the driveway, before Mickey had joined her, he’d thought she was a teenager playing hooky from school, not the qualified nurse taking care of his nephew.
He’d felt a delicious shock when he’d realised those curves certainly didn’t belong to a teenager, but instead to an all-grown-up woman. A very tempting grown-up woman. It wasn’t difficult to imagine running his hands over that body. Damn it. He couldn’t afford to get sidetracked, even for a few hours. He might have been living the life of a monk lately, but that would have to continue at least while he visited Motueka and sorted out Mickey’s future—starting with making arrangements to sell this place.
‘Kar—ina, where are you? I’m ready.’
Did Mickey ever talk in fewer decibels than a jet on take-off?
‘Coming, kiddo.’
At least Karina replied quietly, in a soft, almost caressing tone.
Caressing. As in stroking, touching …
Logan stomped through to the kitchen, where everything appeared spotless. Nothing like what he was used to in the over-used, under-tidied kitchens of Nigeria, where all energy went into helping people rather than putting things away in cupboards only so that someone could remove them again moments later. This was kind of a nice change. Homey.
Whoa. They were going to sell this place. Getting comfortable and cosy wasn’t an option.
He had no difficulty finding chocolate to go into the milk he’d put on to heat. A stack of bars stood right beside the tin of drinking chocolate powder in the pantry, along with packets of marshmallows. He popped a marshmallow in his mouth as he stirred the milk, savouring the sweet burst of flavour on his tongue.
Karina bounced into the small space, using up what little air there was, bumping him with her elbows or hips every time she moved—which was constantly. While those curves were now hidden under trousers and a chambray shirt, he knew they were there. Her hair was damp and curls were beginning to fly, adding to that waif-like appearance.
‘Will you look at that?’ She nodded in the direction of the window. ‘It’s already stopped raining. Put on for my benefit, was it?’ She came closer and peered into the pot. ‘Looking good. Pour Mickey’s before it gets too hot. He doesn’t like waiting for it to cool.’
Trying to ignore the scent of roses and damp hair wafting around her, Logan reached for the mug she held out. ‘Sure. He’s grown heaps since I was last here.’ Concentrate on Mickey and the perfume will eventually evaporate. He hoped.
‘Kids do tend to grow and change quite a bit in a year.’ She placed two more mugs on the bench. ‘I presume you’re joining us in our hot chocolate moment?’
‘Might as well.’
There hadn’t been a hint of sting in her words, and yet the guilt they caused tightened his gut enough to ache. He hadn’t been the best uncle, or brother, over the years. He knew that more than anyone.
‘I would’ve been back nearly two months ago except for an exceptional circumstance.’
Why justify himself to this woman? It was none of her business. Except …
‘I’m sorry you’ve had to shoulder all the responsibility for Mickey since James and Maria died.’ Not to mention the medical centre that had been James’s pride and joy, and had seemed too dull to him.
She shrugged. ‘No worries.’
‘Understatement your thing, is it?’
This house had had more than its share of problems due to lack of maintenance over the years. The lawyers had made sure he knew about every last fault. At least that was something he could, and would, fix. He had an appointment at two o’clock to talk to a real estate agent and get the property on the market. Getting it up to scratch was part of his agenda over the next few weeks.
‘Not that I’m aware.’ Karina opened a tin from the pantry and placed some cookies on a plate. ‘I’m sorry you missed the funeral. We held off as long as possible, but no one could track you down.’
Wow, she had a way of ramping up the guilt without even trying. His gut wanted to regurgitate
