by Bowes, K T
“Kane!” Logan spat his half-brother’s name with disgust. “No wonder they hated me, Kane and Barry.” His lips curled back in a snarl and he closed his eyes against the swirling misery.
“I’m sorry, Loge. Please forgive me?” Hana’s tearful face brought him back to reality and Logan nodded.
“Of course I do.” He pushed his fingers further into her shirt and pressed his face into the soft skin of her neck. He sighed with relief at the familiar tightness in his trousers, glad not every part of him was broken.
“Are we good?” Hana breathed as her husband placed hot kisses on her skin and stripped the tee shirt over her head without effort.
“Mmnn,” he replied. “As long as you keep nothing else from me.”
Hana’s heart quailed at the thought of Laval’s threats. Logan had fearsome connections in the criminal underworld and might out gun Laval, but his arrogant confidence told her otherwise. Laval was nastiness personified; nastiness with a vendetta.
Logan’s food grew cold on the table as he undressed his wife, enjoying the creamy skin under his calloused fingers. He nibbled the column of her neck and unclipped her bra, revelling in the full breasts which spilled into his hands. “I love you, Hana Du Rose,” he whispered, turned on by the sound of her married name on his tongue. She squealed as he lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom, remembering at the last minute Phoenix lay in the drawer on the bed. They rerouted to the living room rug again and Logan worked to leave his troubles on the ancient mountain, many kilometres north.
Chapter 10
Hana fed Phoenix on the sofa, while Logan made a pot of tea, humming away with a greater lightness of spirit. He laid it on the coffee table in the living room, glancing towards the huge bay window. “Why are the curtains closed?”
Hana’s face darkened and worry sped across her lovely features like clouds scudding across a blue sky, unexpected and forbidding. She focussed on the baby with a shrug, reluctant to tell any more lies. Reaching for her tea, she almost knocked it over in her haste. “Logan,” she said as he mopped up the spill, “I need to talk to you about something.”
He looked at her expectantly, his face handsome with its dusting of stubble and his dark hair flopping into his eyes. “Yep?” he said, settling next to her.
“When I took Phoenix for her jabs, I talked to the nurse and she put me on the contraceptive pill. I’ve been scared to tell you, with you being catholic.”
Logan sighed, slipping his arm over her shoulders. He kissed the baby’s fluffy dark head and she stopped feeding to seek him out with her eyes. She smirked and kicked her feet. Logan shook his head. “It’s fine babe. I want what’s best for you. I’m not that much of a dictator am I?”
Hana shook her head, relieved. “We hadn’t discussed having more babies or not. I was struggling and couldn’t cope with the one I had, let alone another. It felt like failure.”
“Yeah, I know that feeling,” Logan said and winced. “It’s fine, I promise. If it means I get into your knickers more, I couldn’t care less.”
Hana slapped his arm and cupped a hand around the baby’s uppermost ear. “Logan! Children present! You must watch what you say.”
He leaned in with a smile and kissed her over the baby’s head. Hana shut her eyes and contemplated telling him about her visit from Laval. She opened her mouth but remembered the text message and Laval’s threat. You can’t lose Logan, her brain reminded her. It was non-negotiable; his safety came first. She exhaled slowly and her husband looked sideways at her and knitted his brow. “What’s wrong, babe?”
Hana ran her hand over her face. “Just stuff,” she fudged. “I’m finding things stressful at the moment.”
Logan tightened his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in, kissing the side of her head. “I guess you’re referring to the move back down to the unit and then the court case,” he said, his voice rumbling through her body. “But we’ll get through it. We survived worse last year, didn’t we?”
Hana nodded and fought the urge to cry at the reminder of the witness statement she would soon withdraw.
“I wish there was more I could say to reassure you,” Logan smiled into Hana’s hair. “But not being a mind reader or having access to the future is a real bummer sometimes.” He cuddled her while she fed the baby, pondering on the visit from Caroline earlier.
The blonde was smug and self-satisfied, strutting into his office and catching him unawares. She dressed to kill for his benefit, low cut top and skin tight jeans. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you,” Logan spat and folded his arms. “Just sod off. You’re not allowed on school premises after your dismissal last year.”
Caroline leaned over him, flashing her breasts and standing far too close for comfort and Logan curled his lip in repulsion. To counteract her advantage he stood up, towering above her and regaining his composure in the small office space. Caroline launched into the reason for her visit, running a pink tongue over her painted lips. “Our family, and I mean Reuben’s, are living in the motel units at the hotel while the insurance company process the claim. I want to stay there with them when I visit.”
“No. Go away,” Logan replied, his grey eyes flashing and his body language venting clear signals of hatred to his ex-fiance. She ignored his obvious disdain and touched the shelves of his office, fingering the text books and examining the resulting dust on her hand.
“Nev’s doing the right thing, building away from the old site. None of us could contemplate living where our father died so horribly. The new homestead looks amazing now it’s cleared. What do you think?” She turned to face Logan with a wiggle of her slender hips.
He smiled, an expression that didn’t reach his eyes. “No, nobody would want to live where my father died, Caroline. He wasn’t your father, love; you forget yourself.” His voice dripped with an airborne acid which burned where it touched and she winced.
“Yes, your father, Logan. But I knew him and you didn’t.”
“Just go, Caroline,” Logan said, sounding tired.
“Kane’s got work in Christchurch and flies out in a few weeks. I want to spend time with him before he goes, but he’s living in the motel.” Capitulation was costly for such a venomous woman and Logan smirked.
“You still giving him the occasional shag just to keep him sweet, are you? Poor bloke. No wonder he spends most of his life high, but then with you around, he must be drugged. Stay off my property Caroline, or I’ll have you thrown off!”
Logan gave Reuben’s family a wide berth all summer, not sure how to interact with them. He didn’t have to let them stay, but the insurer paid for their accommodation and he’d convinced himself it was a business transaction.
“I want to stay with my brothers,” Caroline insisted, looking around the office for somewhere to sit. “I’m going home in the next few weeks and now I can’t stay at Reuben’s place, I have no choice.”
“No! Stay off my land and get out of my office. Don’t get comfortable!” Logan warned as she pulled a battered chair away from the wall. “Go away and stay away.”
The last thing he needed was her disruptive presence as his life hit an even keel with Hana. Caroline wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to wind Hana up and Logan neither wanted the hassle nor the memories.
“I thought you might say that.” Caroline smiled, unperturbed, simpering around the desk and sitting salaciously on the nearest corner with her legs touching Logan’s. He had nowhere to go except backwards into the wall and she stood and kissed him full on the mouth, savouring the spark she fancied she saw fleetingly in his eyes.
Logan backed away, running his cuff across his lips in disgust, cursing himself for letting her mess with his head. “Get out!” he hissed and she flounced away, winking back at him and blowing a kiss.
At Culver’s Cottage mulling over the incident, Logan snuggled into Hana, needing the physical contact. He contemplated confessing, but banished the notion, convinced of his innocence. Hana grounded him, kept
him sane and stopped Caroline getting under his skin like she’d done since childhood. He wasn’t naive enough to believe he was immune to Caroline’s twisted wiles; she satisfied a need in him when he gave up hope of finding Hana. Against Hana’s purity, Caroline was the epitome of easy, mindless sex without substance or longevity.
Logan kissed Hana on the temple and played with a lock of her red hair. “I love everything about you,” he whispered and she snickered. “No, I do, Hana. I’m grateful I stumbled across you twenty-six years after first seeing you, despite having scoured England to find you.” Logan fixated on the lock of hair as it glistened and changed colour in the lamplight.
“Well, you were looking in the wrong place,” Hana sighed. “I was here in New Zealand all the time.”
Logan shook his head at the wasted hours riding the London tube trains and dreaming of life with his soul mate.
“I went back to the unit again,” Hana said, as Phoenix fed herself to sleep.
Logan caressed Hana’s upper arm with his fingers and felt the spark begin again. “Can you put Phoe down?” His voice was husky and Hana smiled to herself.
“In a minute, not quite. I said I went to the unit today.”
“How’s it going?” Logan tried to sound interested, scooping Hana’s hair behind her neck and running his fingers up the back of her head, massaging and watching her relax.
“Good.” Hana moaned as his lips worked at the soft skin under her ear. “What do you think’s going on there?”
“Someone’s put their fingers in the cash register,” he breathed.
“That’s what Angus suggested. He said the books are being audited so I guess he’ll know soon.”
“Hana, the baby’s asleep,” Logan whispered, pressing his lips over hers and washing away the memory of Caroline’s perfumed scent. “Put her to bed and let me love you.”
“Ok,” Hana said, her green eyes earnest and her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. She tipped the child from her breast, leaving the supple roundness exposed and Logan groaned.
The telephone trilled from the hallway and Phoenix disturbed with a wail of indignation. Logan said several swearwords and stalked towards the door. He returned with the handset and handed it to his wife, raising his eyebrows as the hand which reached for it visibly shook.
“Oh, hi Bo,” gushed Hana, relieved to hear her son’s voice “I’m glad it’s you. How are things?”
The baby’s head lolled back and a line of milk ran from the corner of her mouth into the neck of her cardigan. Logan scooped her up and put her over his shoulder, patting her back and enjoying the way his daughter’s soft face nestled into him. He sighed, filling his heart with the essence of her. He spoke to his child in Māori, quietly ensuring the continuance of his legacy; his private gift to her. “Parangia, little one,” he whispered, “sleep time. I need time with your mama.”
In the living room Hana chatted to her son, asking him questions about the court process. “Will I have to look at Laval Senior?” she asked and her voice wavered as she contemplated the ordeal.
Logan signalled his daughter was in bed and gave her a sultry wink. Hana smiled and nodded understanding. The overwhelming need to confide in her son rose, promising an end to her loneliness. But Laval’s threat resonated again. Logan was too important to risk staking his life against Laval. The man had an evil electricity about him that affected Hana as she recalled the piercing brown eyes which stunned her into immobility in the car park. He was a deceiver and good at his work.
Hana shivered and ended the call. “I need to help Loge with the baby.” She made her excuses but as she laid the handset on the table, she remembered the self-defence lessons. “Silly woman!” she chastised herself.
In bed, Logan made her forget her problems, teasing Hana until she reached overload. His skilled hands and lips enjoyed her, banishing all memory of Caroline against the suppleness of Hana’s body and the tender kisses she returned. “Nobody ever made me feel like you do,” he breathed, pulling Hana on top of him.
“Good!” she giggled. “Let’s keep it that way.” Hana’s lips sought his and she caressed his tongue with hers, feeling his body tense. His muscular arms pinned her to his body, enjoying her soft curves and exploring with gentle fingers. Hana squeaked as he rolled her over, crushing her beneath him.
Later, Hana’s brain went into overdrive, keeping her awake long after Logan slept. She made and discarded plans, ran scenarios through her mind and imagined ingenious plots to unmask Laval. None of them seemed feasible and as she couldn’t ask for help for fear of putting Logan at risk, she fell asleep disappointed with her progress. Phoenix woke her once for a feed but when Hana heard the alarm clock chirp at six o’clock, it was as though her head only just touched the pillow. “Noooo!” she groaned and squeezed in behind Logan, putting her arms around his waist and holding on.
“Ugh! You’ve got cold hands,” he complained and Hana deliberately annoyed him, running soft hands over his brawny torso and putting her icy feet onto his legs. “Stop it, wahine!” he groaned. Logan tried to turn over in the small space at the edge of the bed to tickle her, overestimated and fell backwards, landing on the cold wooden floor.
“Logan! I’m sorry!” Hana peeped over the edge at him sprawled on the floor. When he didn’t move, she panicked, darting from the bed naked and throwing herself down on the floorboards next to him.
“Logan!” her voice was a wail. “Logan, please talk to me!” She half fell over him, afraid he may be bleeding internally from his haemophilia.
“Got ya!” He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her down, kissing her hard on the mouth and Hana felt his lips smirking under hers.
“Not funny!” she snapped, tears pricking behind her eyes. “I thought you were hurt.” She crawled back under the duvet, lying longwise across the bed and pressing the palms of her hands into her eyes.
“Sorry,” Logan pleaded. “Let me get back in and make it up to you.” He ran a hand lightly up the inside of her thigh and Hana brushed him away.
“No!” she sulked. “You’re getting nothing from me you horrible man. You scared me!” Her voice caught and she fought the awful sensation of loss, hardening her resolve against Laval. I’ll work it out myself, she promised.
Hana pressed her face into Logan’s pillow, smelling where he washed his hair with her shampoo before coming to bed. Logan appeared back in the bedroom with a cup of tea and their daughter, one in either arm.
“Chuck her here,” Hana said, plumping pillows behind her and sitting up. Logan looked at her curiously and she cringed at the reluctance she heard in her own voice.
“Na,” he said, “she stinks. It’s gone up her back, look.” He spun Phoenix around and Hana saw the stain up the back of her sleep-suit. He dealt with the child and by the time Hana got back to the bedroom with her make up on and her hair curling softly down the back of her towel, Logan had dressed Phoenix and was trying to sort himself out while she lay on the bed grizzling.
Hana ran around the bedroom, pulling on her undies and trying to stuff herself into white cotton trousers and a pretty top while the child howled at the sound of her mother’s voice. “I’m coming as fast as I can!” Hana grumbled.
Logan sensed Hana’s frustration. “Sorry,” he said. “I wish I could do more. Phoenix loves me because I’ll play with her, but there’s no hope of getting a feed from me. I swear she senses you come into the room because she hollers for milk straight away.”
Hana curbed her irritation. Logan handed her the baby as she settled against the head board. “Are you annoyed at me?” he asked, knitting his brow at the swift shake of her head. He climbed onto the bed and stretched his long legs out, studying his wife with those intense, grey eyes. “Hana!”
The tears pricked again and a hitch began in her chest. She focussed on her husband strong legs, allowing her eyes to ride up to his boxer shorts and the gorgeous flat stomach and defined muscles. “I’m fine,” she managed.
“I fi
nd everything about you and Phoe wonderful,” he admitted. “It’s all new and I never thought I’d have the chance to be a father.” He ran long fingers along the fabric of her trousers. “You know, I’ve often wished I’d been able to deliver an instruction manual instead of the placenta.”
Hana laughed. “You’d have buried that under the kauri tree at the top of the mountain. Then where would we be?”
Logan sniffed. “Jack told me recently my grandmother buried mine up there, in the same spot. It made me feel strange. I didn’t know that. Māori lore ties me to the land through it, with the expectation I’ll be buried there. Then my mana returns to the earth. Tangata whenua, people of the land.”
“Are we talking about the instruction manual or the placenta?” Hana asked. “Because if it’s the manual, it explains a lot.”
Logan snorted and put his arms behind his head, his biceps bulging. His face was thoughtful.
“You should ask Alfred,” Hana whispered. “He’d know.”
“No, I won’t do that,” Logan replied. “I grew up believing Alfred loved me and now it seems like a big pretence he doesn’t need to continue. Reuben’s gone so Alfred can drop the act, knowing he can’t wind him up anymore.”
“Poor baby,” Hana sighed. The triple loss was awful. Not only did Logan lose his mother and birth father, he lost the man who raised him, which was the bitterest blow of all.
“I’ll be right,” he said, faking bravado. “Are we good?”
Hana nodded. “You frightened me. I can’t bear the idea of being without you.” Her chin wobbled and she squeezed her eyes shut to stem the ready tears.
“Sorry.” Logan soothed. He cradled Hana in his strong arms and kissed the top of her head. “Get on with your breakfast,” he told his smiling daughter as she popped her head out from under Hana’s blouse.