The muscles around his neck and shoulders were taut. Wide, kneading motions loosened, then relaxed the sinewy ropes. Logan rested his forehead on his hands and groaned softly. The sound was a dagger to her heart. It pierced the last layer of her reserve and left her unprotected.
Rubbing the heels of her hands into his back, she worked her way down his spine. On the return trip, she splayed her fingers and massaged the areas by his sides. Knots disappeared, tension melted.
The muscles in his upper arms were too large for her to span, so she worked on one side and then the other. The scent of his body and the last trace of his after-shave mingled, aroused and enticed. Dark whiskers outlined the shape of his jaw.
“I can’t tell you how great this feels,” he murmured.
Amen, she thought as she stretched back to his neck. The pressure from his buttocks was enough to tease but not satisfy. If she pressed a little harder, arched her back…
The pleasure built…her breathing quickened. But it was the increased temperature of his skin that sounded the alarm. She froze in midstroke. Her fingers trailed along his spine, then were still.
What was she thinking of? she asked herself. Stupid question, came the answer. This might not be the most embarrassing moment of her life, but it was certainly in the top ten. Easing her weight off him, she slipped onto the mattress and turned to leave.
“Don’t go,” he said softly. One hand reached out and grabbed hers. “Stay here for a second more.”
Sleep made his voice heavy, desire made her willpower weak. She stretched out on her back, next to him. Their fingers entwined. He pulled her hand up to his lips, then kissed each knuckle. Tawny eyes met hers. Desire battled with fatigue.
“Go to sleep.” She turned onto her side to face him and touched his hair. The brown strands felt like silk. “I’ll stay for a while. It’s all right.”
His lids drifted closed and his breathing slowed. Twenty minutes later, she softly spoke. “Logan?”
There was no answer.
She slid off the bed and walked to the lamp. With a turn of the switch, the room was plunged into darkness. Finding her way out more by memory than sight, she paused by the bed.
“I love you, Logan Phillips.”
Two nights later, Melissa walked to the kitchen and glanced out the big window. No car, no Wendi, nothing. She let the curtain fall back in place and resumed her pacing.
The length of the house was a nice feature, she thought as she stalked the halls. It took her two minutes to travel from the end of Logan’s bedroom to the far corner of his daughter’s. She’d made the round trip ten times. Wendi was now—she glanced at her watch—fifty minutes late.
She’d already called Sally’s house. The girl’s mother had informed her that a teenage boy had taken them to get ice cream. Mrs. Johnson had questioned the arrangement, but Wendi and Sally had told her it had been cleared…by Melissa.
“I’ll kill her,” Melissa said as she passed the foyer. “And I don’t care if I go to prison.”
She heard the sound of a car engine and the slamming of a door. Finally! Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she sat on the corner of the sofa.
Wendi flew in the front door and slid to a stop. “Hi. Is my dad home yet?”
“No, he’s still at work.”
“Oh. Okay. I think I’ll go to my room. Night.” With a quick smile, the preteen turned toward her bedroom.
“Just one minute, young lady. Do you know what time it is?”
Wendi paused. “No.” She looked up at the clock over the mantel. “Gosh, it’s late. I had no idea, Melissa. Sorry. Night.” She started walking away.
“Get back here.” Melissa’s voice was low and controlled, but she felt the rage bubbling under the surface. This wasn’t the time to lose her cool, she reminded herself.
“What?” Wendi moved slowly through the living room and sat on the rose-colored wing chair. Her eyes were wide and the lids fluttered in what Melissa supposed was an expression of innocence.
“The first problem is that you are exactly one hour late. You said you’d be home at eight-thirty. Tomorrow is the last day of camp and you have to be up early. Where were you and why didn’t you call?”
“I was at Sally’s, like I said.”
“Did her mother bring you home?”
Wendi shifted uncomfortably. “Of course.”
“And why didn’t you call?”
“I forgot.”
Even if she hadn’t already known the truth, the girl’s fidgeting would have given her away. The twisting fingers and uneasy swallowing highlighted the fact that she was a poor liar. The only consolation was that it wasn’t something she tried very often.
The cowardly part of Melissa wanted to simply send the girl to her room and tell Logan when he got home. He was Wendi’s father, let him deal with it. The logical part of her said that she’d been hired to look after his daughter. And that meant all the time and not just when things were going well.
“When you didn’t come home on time, I called Sally’s house.”
Wendi sprang to her feet. “You what? How dare you check up on me?”
“How dare you lie?”
“I didn’t—”
Melissa cut her off with a look. “Mrs. Johnson told me about the boy. You said I knew about it and thought it was fine. You lied to her about that and you lied to me about where you were going and who you were going to be with.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose.” Wendi folded her arms over her chest and walked to the French doors leading out to the pool. “When I got to Sally’s, I found out that Alan might come by. He wanted to take us out. How could we say no?”
Your lips form the word and it just comes out, Melissa thought as she struggled with her temper. “Who is this Alan person?”
“Mark’s older brother.”
Mark? Oh yes, the one Wendi liked at her camp. “Did Mark go for ice cream as well?”
“Yes.”
At least Wendi wasn’t hanging out with sixteen-year-olds. That was something to be grateful for.
She drew in a deep breath and pressed her hands into the sofa cushion. “The first mistake was not calling and saying you’d be late. The second was lying to Mrs. Johnson about Alan. The third was getting in a car with someone I haven’t met or okayed. Did I forget anything?”
“No.” Wendi stared at the ground. Despite her height and trendy shorts with matching shirt, she looked like a guilty toddler caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“The rules exist for a reason. Not to make your life miserable.”
“Right,” Wendi muttered.
Melissa ignored her. “The rules are to keep you safe. How long has Alan been driving? Does he know how to handle a car? What if he’d decided that he wanted something you didn’t want to give?”
Wendi whirled to face her. “This is none of your business. I can do what I want. You’re not my mother.”
“Just because I’m not a relative doesn’t mean I don’t care. I was worried about you, Wendi.”
“Sure. That’s why you’re yelling at me.” She turned to stand with her back to the room, but the quiver in her voice indicated she’d started to cry. “Go on and tell my dad. I don’t care. You’re leaving anyway.”
Melissa slowly rose to her feet. At last they’d reached the heart of the matter. The whole evening had been staged to find out just how much anyone cared about her. No, not anyone…Melissa. “You’re right, I am leaving. But that doesn’t change the fact that I was worried. You’re important to me, Wendi. Don’t you know that by now?”
“Then why are you going away?”
“Because I was only hired for the summer.”
“But I’ll talk to Dad.” She turned around and wiped the tears from her face. “Mrs. Dupuis is okay, but she doesn’t do stuff like you do. She won’t bake or go shopping with me. And she’s old.”
Melissa bit back a smile. According to Logan, the housekeeper was just over forty. “Wendi, I ca
n’t stay. I have my own life to live and it’s not here.”
“But…” The tears pooling in her eyes added sparkle to the emerald depths.
“You’re a beautiful girl and you’re going to be a beautiful woman. In a couple of years, you’ll be so busy with school and your friends, you wouldn’t have time for me anyway.” She stepped next to her and wiped her face. “We’ll stay in touch.”
“P-promise?”
“Of course.”
“I’m going to go to my room now.” She sniffed.
“Not just yet. There’s the small matter of your punishment.”
“Oh.” Wendi bit her lip. “I’m ready.”
“When you get home from camp tomorrow, there’ll be no phone calls all evening and Friday as well. When you get back from your mother’s on Sunday, you’ll stay home until school starts Tuesday morning.”
“Is this being grounded?”
“Yup.”
Wendi smiled. “I’ve never been grounded before. It’s not so bad.”
“It beats a close encounter with a paddle.”
“Are you going to tell my dad?”
“No.”
The girl visibly brightened. “Really? Great. I know he’d completely—”
“You are.”
“What?”
Melissa patted her arm. “Tomorrow. At dinner. Better think about what you’re going to say.”
Saturday morning dawned warm and clear. The day promised to be hot and sunny, perfect weather for the last three-day weekend of summer.
After her shower, Melissa dressed quickly and headed for the kitchen. She’d told Wendi she’d prepare a special breakfast before the girl left to spend the night with her mother. While Fiona lavished gifts on her daughter, apparently she didn’t have a clue as to what twelve-year-olds liked to eat.
She turned into the room and stopped short at the sight of Logan sitting at the table and reading the morning paper. “You’re up early,” she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“I’ve got a ton of work to get through. I thought I’d get a head start. And I wanted to talk to you.”
The white T-shirt clinging to his chest brought out the bronze in his tanned skin. Long legs stretched out and rested on the seat of the chair opposite him. One lock of dark hair fell carelessly across his forehead. The admonition to be strong rang especially hollow this morning, she thought as her stomach flip-flopped.
She pulled a bowl of strawberries out of the refrigerator and set it on the counter. “Talk away.”
“You did good with Wendi.”
The quiet praise filled her with satisfaction. “Thanks.”
“You handled the situation well. I liked the punishment and that you made her tell me herself. I really think she learned a lesson.”
Melissa grinned. “You left out the best part.”
“And what’s that?”
“You liked the fact that you weren’t here to deal with it.”
“I admit that was appealing, as well. You’re a good woman, Melissa VanFleet.”
His bare feet had made no noise, for suddenly he was standing behind her. His breath fanned the back of her neck. She could feel the puffs of air, the way her hair lifted slightly, then fell into place.
Her fingers slowed their task of shucking the strawberries, then stilled altogether. Would he touch her now? Would he take her and make the ache inside go away?
“You’ve changed us,” he murmured. “It will never be the same. You have a gift for affecting those around you.”
It wasn’t a gift, she wanted to scream. It was caring. She’d changed them because she loved them…him. Everything, the nurturing, the cooking, the waiting, had all been done because he meant everything to her. To walk away with only memories of what might have been…no, what should have been, was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever done.
“Logan, I…” She turned until she could meet his eyes. The gold flecks blinded her to everything but her desire. She wanted him. Opening her mouth to tell him, she saw a flash of movement in the hall.
“Wendi” she said, sliding away.
“Morning, kitten.” Logan gave his daughter a hug. “Ready for your busy day?”
“Yes. A shopping marathon.” The girl sighed. “It’s the only good part of going back to school.” Stealing a strawberry from the bowl, she plopped down in a chair. “When do we eat?”
“After someone sets the table,” Melissa said.
Logan made a timely retreat to his office.
“You couldn’t possibly mean me,” the twelve-year-old said.
“Oh, couldn’t I?”
“Tyrant.”
“Brat.”
Wendi stuck out her tongue. Melissa did the same back.
“Hand me four eggs and then get to work.”
After combining the ingredients for pancakes, Melissa beat the batter, then adjusted the temperature on the electric griddle.
“Can I cook some?” Wendi asked.
She glanced down at the girl’s outfit. “You’d better not. What if you spill on your clothes?”
The white romper was all ruffles and tucks. The cuffed shorts exposed long, tanned legs and new leather sandals. Melissa knew there wasn’t a speck of makeup on Wendi’s face, but her lashes were disgustingly long and her cheeks naturally pink.
There is no justice, she thought as she turned over the first batch of pancakes. Logan’s daughter would probably get through high school without a single blemish.
“I’ll do the juice.” Wendi opened the bag of oranges and began cutting them in half. Her long hair brushed against the counter.
Melissa pulled it away from the food. “Go on, get out,” she ordered. “Go talk to your father. I’ll call you when everything’s done.”
Wendi laughed, then scampered away.
“I can’t eat another bite,” Wendi said as she leaned back in the chair and patted her stomach. “Did you see how many pancakes I ate? Six.”
“Seven.” Melissa offered Logan the last piece of bacon. When he shook his head, she popped it into her mouth. “Not that anyone is counting.”
“Good thing I’m going to be walking all day. Otherwise I’d blow up like a blimp.”
Melissa eyed the girl’s slender frame. “Fat chance.”
Logan groaned and pretended to clip her chin. The three of them laughed together. These were the times, Melissa thought to herself. Moments caught between the bright light of reality, when she could pretend this was hers. That the smile on Logan’s lips meant more than gratitude, that the love shining from Wendi’s face would last forever. That they were a family with happiness and sorrow, harmony and discord.
What would she give to hold on to this second forever? Had she done enough good to deserve the chance?
Wendi slipped out of her seat and started clearing the table. While the girl’s back was turned, Logan smiled at Melissa and winked.
Maybe, she thought. Just maybe all this could be hers. If only Logan would allow himself to trust her, to care about her. She didn’t need him to love her, not right now. That would come in time. She only needed the chance to prove that she would never leave him, would never betray what was between them.
Wendi leaned down and wrapped her arms around Melissa’s neck. “Thanks for the yummy breakfast.”
“You’re welcome, kitten.”
Melissa reached up and patted the girl’s cheek.
“How terribly cozy.”
Melissa froze. She knew that voice. She had listened to it, yelled at it, pleaded with it. For years she had seen slow motion in the movies, but she’d never expected to experience it in real life. Her heart stilled and the air rushed from her lungs.
“Good morning, Fiona.” Logan stood up and tossed his napkin onto the table. “We didn’t hear you come in.”
The tall, black-haired beauty set her purse on the counter and held her arms open to her daughter. “So I see. How are you, Wendi?”
“Good, Mom.”
&
nbsp; The preteen clung a little too tightly and Fiona stepped back. Her white jumpsuit was the long-pant version of her daughter’s outfit. The sleeveless bodice exposed trim arms and a small but perky bosom. Narrow hips supported endless legs.
Melissa tried to stand up, but her muscles refused to cooperate. “Hi,” she said weakly.
“Well.” Fiona smiled. White teeth gleamed in an expression that was more challenging than friendly. Raven hair cascaded down her back like a river of onyx. Wide-set emerald eyes flickered from the top of Melissa’s head down to her bare feet. “You must be Melissa. I’ve heard—” her gaze drifted to Logan, then back “—so much about you. Oh, all good of course. I’ve always…admired domestic women. All that energy over cooking and cleaning. I just can’t find the time.”
Logan felt the anger begin to uncoil. Moving away from the table, he stepped between Melissa and his ex-wife. “I believe Wendi’s bag is by the door.”
“Is that a hint?” Fiona chuckled. The low throaty sound had once enticed him, but now it reminded him of a cartoon villain.
He shrugged. “You can take it as one.”
“Oh, Logan. Haven’t you learned any manners yet? Melissa and I haven’t had a chance to become properly acquainted. I’m sure she has a lot of questions for me and there are one or two things I’d like answered. Tell me, does she take care of all your needs?”
He heard Melissa’s audible gasp. “I know you and Wendi have a busy day planned. You should go ahead and get an early start.”
His ex-wife laughed, then reached out and plucked a strawberry from the bowl. “Your favorite, Logan. How well you keep them trained.” Before he could wrap his hands around her neck, she stepped back and picked up her purse. “It was such a pleasure seeing you again. We should do this more often. Maybe dinner?”
“I’m busy,” he growled.
She laughed again. “Temper, temper. Come on, Wendi. We’ve got some shopping to do. So nice to have met you, Melissa. Be sure to keep in touch.”
In a few seconds, she was gone. Only the overpowering scent of her expensive perfume lingered behind like an unwanted guest.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said as his hands formed tight fists. “I guess I left the front door open when I went out to get the paper.”
Tender Loving Care Page 17