by Bowes, K T
“Awesome. Well, you can go home now, Mrs Du Rose. Your discharge notice is at the front desk.”
Hana gaped. “Someone took my clothes; what will I wear?” She looked down at her cut and bruised body and panicked at the vision of herself streaking naked across the multi storey car park in the middle of the night. Logan placed a reassuring hand over hers.
“Find her clothes,” he said to the doctor, his authority overpowering in the small space. The man stalked away and Logan heaved a sigh. “Jerk!” he stated. “How did he imagine you’d walk out of here?”
Hana touched her face, an indicator of anxiety. The myriad cuts on her palm smarted and she put it down again. A nurse appeared with a brown paper bag containing Hana’s filthy jeans, singlet, bra and socks, resting on her equally dirty cowboy boots. She shoved it on the chair and left without speaking. “Oh, nice,” Hana commented, peering into the bag. “Stinky.”
Logan helped his wife dress, managing to turn every clasp and button into foreplay without trying to. Hana yearned to lose herself in the big bed at home with him and forget about her disastrous afternoon. She winced as he pushed her arm into the sleeve and caught the white packing over her wound. “Sorry, babe,” he said, looking chagrined.
“It’s okay.” Hana squeezed her eyes shut in pain. “I’m not sure if it’s my ass or my elbow. Everything hurts.”
Logan smirked. “Neither. But if you don’t get a move on, they’ll keep you here.”
“That’s your excuse for dissing your wife?” Hana said, sounding scandalised.
Logan shrugged. “Want me to get that doctor back and tell him I lied? I’d hate to take you out of their care if you’re concussed.”
Hana screwed her face up, resembling a stubborn Phoenix and drawing a snort from her husband. She allowed him to slide her knickers over her legs without disturbing the wound, tantalised by his dark fingers against her creamy skin. “You’re doing that on purpose,” she hissed as he smoothed the cotton over her bare buttocks.
“You can go out naked if you want,” he whispered back. Hana gulped as her brain returned to the horrible scenario and she behaved while he encased her breasts in her bra and slipped the dirty shirt over her head.
At the desk, Hana picked up her discharge papers, fingering the accident report in her sore hands. The doctor dismissed her with a smile. “How’s Caleb?” Hana asked. “Is he out of surgery?”
“Not yet. It was a bad break.”
“When can he go home?” she pressed, emboldened by Logan’s formidable presence.
“Not sure,” the doctor said. “It’ll be up to the surgeon. First few days he’ll be on pain relief and then we’ll have to monitor for infection. Ring when he’s out of surgery.”
“Thanks.” Hana yawned and followed her husband into the cool air outside. She shivered and he put his arm around her shoulders.
“You okay, babe?” he asked and Hana nodded.
“Yeah, just glad to be alive. It was worse for poor Caleb, but after he lost consciousness I started to convince myself nobody would ever come.”
“Na. You knew I wouldn’t stop until I found you.” Logan’s voice betrayed his sense of near loss and Hana leaned her head against his strong shoulder as they walked.
“I’m so tired.” She yawned again.
“Yeah, me too. I thought we’d stay in town tonight, see the kid in hospital tomorrow and go home after that? What do you think? Or do you want to go home and see Phoe and Mac now?”
“I desperately want to see them but I won’t wake them tonight. They love sleeping over with Leslie and Alfred so let’s stay here and go home tomorrow.” Hana hid her desire to hold her baby and kiss her daughter, seeing the exhaustion in Logan’s face. “We’re both shattered and a road accident is the last thing we need.”
Logan parked under the hotel building in the heart of Hamilton and the couple walked into the posh reception, filthy, dirty and without luggage. Logan’s credit card did the talking and he purchased washing powder and toiletries from the expensive hotel stock and led his exhausted wife to the third floor. “Get a hot shower,” he told her. “Those dressings are waterproof. It’ll help you recover.”
“Come in with me?” Hana begged and he conceded. They washed in the hot town water and Logan shampooed his wife’s hair to remove the remnants of the bush. A thin dust covered her whole body and he lovingly removed it, running his scarred fingers across her most sensitive places.
“I couldn’t cope with losing you,” he whispered against the hiss of the shower and Hana turned in the small space to kiss the black down on his chest.
“I love you, Logan Du Rose,” she replied, caressing his name on her tongue. Logan’s lips covered over hers and Hana tilted her head to feel his tongue begin its familiar dance. Her mouth filled with water and she choked and spluttered while her husband laughed and banged her on the back.
Logan settled Hana in the big bed and went back to the bathroom. “What’re you doing?” she grumbled, tired but reluctant to let go of her consciousness without him.
“I’m washing our clothes,” he called. “I bought washing powder. We can’t wear them home like that; they’re gross.”
Hana sighed. “They won’t dry in time.”
Logan appeared in the doorway, naked but for a small towel around his waist. “Yeah they will. They’re on the towel rail and I’ll rotate stuff. I don’t want your cuts infected by dirty clothes.”
“You’re so sweet. That’s probably why I love you.” She yawned and turned her back on him, snuggling down into the deep mattress. Logan’s body felt smooth and hard as he slipped into the bed behind her, pulling the starchy sheets over them both. He moved Hana’s damp hair from her neck and kissed the soft skin, nibbling gently with his teeth. She moaned and arched her back and Logan pushed his arm around her, pulling her in to his body with his fingers splayed across her stomach. He moved his hand so his index finger snaked up Hana’s thigh, tracing her hip bone and tickling her stomach. She snuffed and twitched, enjoying the sensation of Logan’s rough chin grazing her neck. Hana smelled the fragrance of washing powder bathing them in a floral haze as Logan moved over the top of her, flicking her bottom lip with his tongue. Hana shifted to take his weight, responding to his kisses and tensing when Logan’s phone trilled loudly into the room.
“Ignore it,” he begged, getting into his stride.
The phone danced off the dressing table and vibrated across the floor, sounding like an angry bumble bee. Hana wiggled under her husband and ended the kiss. “Loge, what if it’s about the children?” Her green eyes widened in concern and she blinked in the lamplight, long lashes swishing against her fringe.
Logan exhaled and bit his lip, struggling to let go of the moment. “Okay.” He kissed the end of Hana’s nose and allowed the fingers of his right hand to brush her breast as he clambered from the bed and retrieved the phone. “Du Rose,” he snapped. He produced an exaggerated eye roll for Hana’s benefit and held the phone out to her, waiting until she gripped it securely in her sore hand.
“Hello?” Hana’s voice betrayed the strain of her awful afternoon. “Oh, Mark, hi.” She held her breath as her surgeon-brother ranted. Logan shook his head and got under the covers, lying next to his wife and wearing a pained expression. Hana shot him a look of apology and tried to placate Mark McIntyre. “Emergency is miles away from where you work. How on earth did you find out?”
Logan sighed at Mark’s loud voice as he berated his sister. “The orthopedic surgeon operated on your friend’s leg and I closed the wound. As I scrubbed in for the next emergency, a nurse came down asking about him and saying, ‘Mrs Du Rose’ wanted to know how it went. It had to be you. I pleaded with your doctor to hold onto you, but as usual they didn’t bloody listen!” Mark’s clipped English accent made the words sound sharper than he intended. Hurt laced his voice. “I would have stitched you up. You only needed to ask.”
“I’m glad you dealt with Caleb instead,” Hana said. “His le
g looked a mess and I’m sure you did a good job.”
“Of course I bloody did!” Mark spat. “Are you back at home now?”
“Not yet,” Hana replied, Logan’s wide eyed expression making her deliberately obtuse. Mark and Logan had locked horns before over Hana’s welfare and she didn’t have the energy for a repeat of their egotistical posturing. “I’m just in bed about to go to sleep. We’ll head home in the morning. I’m keen to get back to the children.”
Logan sighed as Hana disconnected, having overheard Mark’s insistence on seeing her. She handed him the phone and ignored her husband’s pout as he narrowed his eyes and placed it on the bedside table again. “Don’t bother; I heard,” he grumbled. “I suppose he thinks it’s my fault you ignored my stockman, rushed into danger with no means of communicating and then slid down a gum tree to rescue a total stranger.” Hana put her hand over his mouth, but Logan had more to say. “Then once down there, you realised you couldn’t get him to safety and sat there with him and his gun.”
“Fine! Say what you really think, Logan! I already feel an idiot.”
“Good!” Logan turned on his side and pulled Hana’s body on top of his. “The guy had a gun. didn’t that occur to you?”
Hana shook her head. “No. He couldn’t reach it but I didn’t think about it. I’m sorry.”
“Fine. Now make it up to me wahine.”
Hana snorted and stuck her bottom lip out. “Sexist pig!” she muttered, as Logan’s hand at the back of her neck snagged her and pulled her lips down onto his.
Chapter 4
Mark McIntyre
“Oh, just for future reference,” Logan said, letting the towel slide down his strong thighs as Hana sat up in bed. “You should’ve climbed down the kauri. It’s got a better trunk for grip and the bark doesn’t come off in shards like the gum. Gum bark strips easily, which is why we use it to start fires.”
“Right.” Hana hugged her raised knees, watching Logan’s muscular body as he moved around the bedroom after his shower. Her eyes strayed from his defined pectorals to his ridged stomach, ogling the luscious olive skin covering his stunning physique. She knew every blemish and scar and drank in his loveliness.
“What’re you staring at, wahine?” Logan asked and Hana saw his lip lift in a subtle smile.
“Just something nice,” she whispered and Logan turned his grey eyes on her. To her sadness, he shook his head.
“Hardly, babe.” His right hand strayed to the ugly scar which reached from under his armpit and snaked past his hip. The staple marks were like deep recesses in the fleshy watershed of ridged, damaged skin. Hana shook her head and slipped naked from the bed, taking the double sheet with her. She glided across the carpet like a ghost and placed gentle fingers over Logan’s.
“Don’t be silly, makau. It’s part of you. All your battle scars are part of you and I love every single one of them.”
Logan ran his hand over his face, hiding his eyes from his wife. Hana pressed her body into his and let go of the sheet, forcing eye contact with her husband as she felt his chest hair against her palms. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met and I can’t believe you’re mine.” She kissed his firm pectoral muscle and saw a flicker of desire spark in his grey irises.
Logan’s response was instant and Hana smirked, pressing her lips against his hairy chest and blinking her eyelashes coyly up at him. He exhaled and his lips shivered against hers. Then he pulled away. “You’re a worry, Mrs Du Rose! You know damn well your brother’s due here soon.”
“He can wait outside.” Hana reached up and kissed the underside of her husband’s rough chin.
Logan laughed. “Bad girl. He’ll hear you screaming and break the door down.”
“With his scalpel?” Hana’s face was full of feigned innocence. “It’ll take him a while.”
“Get!” Logan slapped the porcelain skin of her bottom and sent a giggling Hana towards the bathroom. “And get a move on, wahine! I don’t need his nagging. I’d like to be home by lunchtime.”
Mark arrived while Hana was in the shower. He perched in an armchair, his regal grey head bowed and his elbows resting on his knees. “Will she be long?” he asked, without looking up.
“She’s a woman; she’ll take as long as she wants,” Logan snorted, pulling his head through the neck of his tee shirt.
“Don’t be rude!” Hana flicked Logan with her damp towel as she slipped from the bathroom, her hair hanging like a damp auburn curtain and touching the centre of her back. “Hey Mark, how are you?” she asked, bending to kiss the top of the man’s head.
“Worried about you, as per bloody usual!” he snapped, standing and grabbing her by the shoulders. “I need to check your stitches.”
“No!” Hana pulled her arm away. “I’m fine. They covered the wounds up and said to leave them for a few days. They’re only butterfly stitches; I don’t want to mess with them.” She pouted. “I thought you wanted to see me before I went home, not check your colleague’s work.”
“I do want to see you, foolish girl!” Mark sat down but his fingers beat an impatient tattoo on his knees.
Logan eyed him sideways as he pulled his cowboy boots over his socks, an air of warning shrouding his strong frame. “Don’t talk to her like that.” His voice sounded low and impassive but Mark’s face twitched as he sensed the caution behind the statement.
Hana observed her brother’s rigid body and panicked. “Is it Dad? Has the cancer come back?”
“No, not at all. Sorry.” Mark stood up, took a step forward, thought better of it and sat down again. “Nothing like that. Dad’s fine; I spoke to him yesterday. He sends his love.”
Hana exhaled and observed the man she grew up believing was her brother. He was tall and thin, sharing the same green eyes as her but a different body shape. Hana closed her eyes and shook her head, wondering how she never guessed he was her Aunt Elaine’s love child, given to her childless parents before Hana’s birth.
“Hey?” Logan roused her with a gentle touch of his hand on her shoulder and Hana started. “You still look tired.”
Hana’s smirk betrayed her lack of sleep in the big bed with the virile farmer and Logan responded with a wink. “Perhaps you’ll do better at home,” he said with a smile and Hana read the double meaning and bit her lip.
“Anka’s gone back to her husband,” Mark blurted and the couple turned to face him. “I planned to ask her to marry me this coming weekend and she beat me to it. She’s gone back to Ivan.”
“I’m sorry,” Hana breathed, relief mixing with sorrow for her brother. She fought the urge to say, I told you so.
“Don’t say it!” Mark snapped but looked at Logan instead. The Māori shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass who you date, Mark. It’s your business, not mine.”
“Yeah, but I know you hated her,” Mark spat. “I couldn’t bring her to the hotel to see my own sister; I’m sure that didn’t help!” The tall doctor stood up and postured, desperate for someone to blame.
“Oh, whatever!” Logan’s patience sounded frayed. “Don’t blame me for that stupid chick’s behaviour! We warned you.” He jerked his head towards Hana. “Anka was Hana’s best friend when she screwed my eighteen-year-old nephew. She’s lucky she didn’t get locked up for it. The way she messed with Tama’s head barred her from my home. Sorry and all that but he’s my priority, not your sordid sex life!” Logan clapped his cowboy hat over glossy black hair and dipped his head to kiss Hana’s lips. “Don’t get into it, babe,” he whispered. “I’ll grab you some breakfast; I won’t be long.” With a look of disgust towards Mark, he strode from the room, pulling the door closed behind him.
Mark sank into the chair and put his hands over his face. Hana heard the stubble rasp across his palms. “Oh, Hana. What a bloody mess!”
Hana sat on the bed and sniffed the socks Logan washed for her. They smelled of washing powder and felt warm from the towel rail. She slipped the
m onto her cold feet and wiggled her toes inside. “I don’t know how to help you.” She pulled her tee shirt over the white pack on her arm and squirmed on the edge of the bed, feeling her jeans aggravating the cut on her calf. “I believed Anka to be a good friend, loyal and godly. Then when she had her affair with Tama she changed. I hoped she’d settled down with you, but obviously not.”
“I know you warned me,” Mark said, his voice low as he fixed his gaze on the carpet between his feet. “You must be desperate to say it.”
“Not really.” Hana pressed her toes into her boots, smelling the bush scents waft up into her face. Logan’s efforts with the cleaning wipes left darker coloured streaks in the leather. She sighed. “There’s no satisfaction in seeing you unhappy. Is there?” She fixed her green eyes on Mark and watched his face twitch with emotion. “Why don’t you travel back with us today for a break?”
Mark shrugged. “I’ve taken a week off. But what about your husband? I got the distinct feeling I wasn’t welcome on his mountain.”
Hana chastised him with her eyes and shook her head. “Stop it, Mark; don’t turn this back on Logan. I told you from the beginning that Anka wouldn’t be welcome. The last time she visited our home, I caught her on my lounge floor with my nephew and she wasn’t wearing knickers. I never want a repeat of that sight, thank you.” Hana shuddered. “It made me feel bloody inferior for a start. I’ve never had such a nice ass. It’s not fair.”
Mark visibly winced and hung his head, his mind deviating to tempting thoughts of the lithe Anka with her underwear removed. He sighed. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“Why should I?” Hana replied. “You’re big enough to make your own decisions and for the record, you could have visited alone. You put yourself in the middle and chose to stay away and that’s your problem, not mine!”
“Fine then!” Mark sulked. “Please ask Logan if I can stay with you?”
“I don’t need to ask him, idiot! He’ll say it’s fine. Do you want to stay at our place or in the hotel?”