The Family She Needs

by Sue MacKay

  Logan’s voice was raspy with sleep and whatever had disturbed him.

  ‘It doesn’t help, going to the lounge. The nightmares follow me.’

  Sitting up, Logan shuffled sideways, making a space on the bed for her.

  As he tapped the mattress beside his hip he added, ‘I won’t bite.’

  He leaned back against a pillow, looking exhausted and nothing like a man who might have light entertainment on his mind. Karina’s eyes followed his hands as they tugged the bedcovers further up his chest. He’d taken to sleeping in a tee shirt and shorts, but no clothing or bedcovers could blot out the image she already held of his body.

  Easing down, she swung her legs up and stretched them alongside his—except hers barely reached past his knees. ‘I’m nothing like my mum and sister. Too short and not thin enough.’

  Logan stared at her unglamorous pyjama-clad pins and picked up her hand to fold his strong fingers around hers. ‘You’ve got curves in all the right places, and for the record curves are not to be sneered at.’

  He squeezed her hand.

  ‘Thanks...I think.’

  She felt the shivers still passing through him intermittently. What were the nightmares about? she asked herself for the hundredth time. It was the one question she’d never verbalise. The look in his eyes when he came awake after one was not something she wanted to be responsible for bringing back.

  ‘I was kidnapped for ransom. In Nigeria. By guerrillas.’

  Karina gasped, shocked at his disclosure and stunned that he’d read her mind. Squeezing his hand in return, she felt increasing shudders rock through him, and moved sideways so that her shoulder rubbed against his upper arm.

  She finally managed a lame, ‘Logan, that’s absolutely terrible.’ What could she say? ‘Why did they take you?’

  ‘Money. They came into our quarters in the middle of the night and took three of us at gunpoint. That’s why I didn’t make it home for the funeral. I had no idea James and Maria had died until after I was released.’

  ‘Why didn’t we hear about this in New Zealand? Surely it should’ve made headline news?’ Reporters weren’t known for their discretion. Not the ones she’d dealt with, anyway. ‘Your parents don’t know, do they?’

  ‘No.’ Logan shivered again. ‘Because of my English passport my director didn’t dispel the notion that I was British, so I guess the local media missed that a Kiwi had been taken. Secondly, I was mistaken for the son of an English lord who was working at a neighbouring camp. Only after the man had been sent out of the country undercover were the guerrillas informed they held the wrong man.’

  For someone who didn’t ever talk about this he suddenly seemed incapable of stopping. Karina held his hand and waited, wondering if he even realised he was telling her this stuff.

  ‘I got lucky,’ he said angrily. ‘Luck being relative. Six weeks after we were captured I saved a child who’d fallen in the river we were camped by. Technically the lad had drowned, but I was able to revive him. Turned out he was the leader’s only son. After a further two weeks of hanging out in a hut I was sent away with a man from a neighbouring village. At first I thought he was going to knock me off and leave me to the hyenas, but after four days I began to hope. Hope’s a strange thing. It grips you, teases, taunts, screws with your mind. We walked all night and most of the day, lying up under any tree we could find when the temperatures were unbearable. By day six I was getting so weak I doubted I’d make it to wherever we were headed, and then suddenly there was a small town on the horizon. After that everything was a blur until I found myself back at base.’

  ‘Thank goodness.’ Her thumb traced back and forth on the back of his hand. ‘What about the other two? You said they took three of you.’

  ‘Still in captivity, last I heard, but negotiations are underway with the US government.’

  She shivered. Unbelievable. It was like something out of a movie: over-dramatised and unrealistic. Except this was true.

  ‘Those scars on your body...?’

  ‘The brutes enjoyed whipping us with the flat side of a machete. The slightest pressure either way and our skin would be sliced. Infections were rampant.’

  Admiration for him ramped up, filled her heart. How did anyone come through all that and still be a kind, caring person like Logan was? Here he was, getting to know his nephew, working hard to improve the house for her—whether they sold it or stayed. Yet he said he would return to that area. Crazy. Why would he?

  Turning, she saw wariness in his eyes as he watched her. Was he searching for disgust on her part because he felt he’d failed somehow? He’d be looking a long time.

  Laying her head on his shoulder, she wanted to weep for him, but knew better. He’d hate that. She asked, ‘How long after reaching your base did you leave Nigeria?’

  ‘Three days. I was sent to hospital in California to be checked over and to talk to the shrinks.’

  ‘Then you came home?’ Did Motueka feel like home to him?

  ‘Home... It’s not a word I use often. I’ve always focused on being wherever I’m needed and not on putting down roots.’

  Unbelievably sad. She’d had problems, but she had always known where she belonged. ‘And now?’ she asked softly.

  ‘I haven’t a clue. I still need to help people. That’s in my psyche. But do I do that in Africa or Asia? Or right here in Motueka? I haven’t a clue,’ he repeated.

  ‘Go easy on yourself. Sort those nightmares out first.’ She leaned harder against him.

  Logan wrapped his arms around her and brought her even nearer. His chin nestled on her head. Strands of her hair lifted with each of his breaths, then floated back down onto her cheek.

  This felt right. If she pressed her cheek hard against his chest she felt his ribs, and now she understood why they stood out as they did. He needed feeding up. Under her ear, his heart beat fast. Occasionally a shiver still shook him. Lifting her hand, she touched his chest, his chin, paused. Pulled back and snuggled close again.

  They stayed like that, listening to the house creak as outside the night air cooled down towards freezing point. Then Logan moved carefully. His lips brushed her forehead, trailing feather-light kisses from one side to the other and then down her cheek to her chin and along her jawline. Over her throat, moving slowly downward to the V in her pyjama jacket, his breath so soft it caressed her.

  Her breathing faltered around the lump of desire suddenly blocking her throat. Lifting her hands, she slid her fingers into his thick, dishevelled hair and massaged his skull with soft circles, holding him against her breasts.

  Logan groaned and pulled away to tug her down the bed until she was on her back. His fingers shook as he tried to deal with the buttons keeping her chest covered. ‘Help me here,’ he muttered through gritted teeth.

  With a hand on his chest she pushed him away and sat up to shuck off her robe. About to attack the buttons on her top, she paused, drinking in the sight of Logan’s chest as he hauled his tee shirt over his head.

  ‘Karina?’ The shirt landed on the floor. He was staring at her with such hunger in his eyes.

  ‘Do you want to stop? Say so if you do.’

  Her eyes tracked the outline of his ribs and moved over those muscles as she shook her head, not trusting her voice. To hell with the buttons. She jerked her top over her head and then lay back to lift her butt and slide her pyjama bottoms down past her thighs.

  Logan returned to where he’d left off; kissing a trail between her breasts, moving to one breast to tease her until she thought she’d scream with need, only have her other breast put through the same tummy-tightening, heart-cranking sensations. Her muscles grew tighter and tighter. Her centre was wet.

  Her hands flailed against the bed as she tried to reach for him. ‘I have to touch you!’ she cried.

  ‘No
. Not yet. One touch and I’ll be gone. Let me give you this.’

  ‘But I want to feel you. My skin on your skin.’

  It was torture to lie there, being made love to without giving something back. She wanted Logan to feel what she was feeling, to share the sensations pouring through her, yet he didn’t seem to think he was missing out.

  ‘Your turn’s coming. You’ll get more than a handful, I promise.’

  Again that beautiful mouth shifted its centre of attention, this time trailing more of those delicious kisses over her stomach before moving ever downward, until he reached the hot, molten apex at the top of her legs. Any thoughts about what she should be doing to Logan were lost as he went from kissing to licking and all too quickly drove her to the brink with a gripping need clawing through her.

  Just when she knew she couldn’t take any more without exploding into a thousand pieces, Karina moaned. ‘I need you inside me.’

  Logan hesitated. ‘Do you have a...?’

  Karina shook her head. ‘It’s okay. I have an IUD.’ She’d had it fitted while she was married, as Ian hadn’t wanted to start a family.

  Logan rose above her to kneel between her legs, his reaction to her big and beautiful. She reached for him, slid her hands over, around his length. And cried out. Beautiful.

  Logan lowered his body and pressed the head of his erection to her. Her hands stroked until he pushed inside, deep within her heat. As he filled her she nearly wept with joy and love. When he withdrew to drive inside again her breathing caught, her lungs stalled, her muscles quaked with need. Then her climax cracked, whipped through her, taking over and blotting out all thought, leaving only exquisite sensations rocking through her.

  Slowly Karina’s breathing came back to something like normal, as did her heart-rate. Logan lay sprawled half across her and she held him tight, making the most of this moment. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Sweat glistened on his back. She tugged at the bedcovers. In the chilly night air it wouldn’t be long before they were cold, despite the heat between them.

  She wanted to laugh and to cry, to be quiet and to talk. She wanted to repeat what they’d just shared, yet was worried it might not be the same. She couldn’t believe that making love after all this time could be so wonderful, that she’d been wrong to think she would never know a man again.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

  ‘That should be my line,’ he gave back, and carefully rolled over to pull her in against him, spooning them together, his arm wonderfully heavy on her waist, his hand splayed across a breast.

  ‘We can share it.’

  Her mouth was swollen and tender as she smiled into the semi-dark. Her fingers traced her lips. I feel whole—like a part of me that I didn’t know was missing has been given back.

  But she was wise enough to know that this night had not changed anything. She still intended staying on in this house. Mickey still needed her to fight for what he required. Logan hadn’t emptied his skull of those demons plaguing him.

  She might be feeling languid and filled with warmth right at this minute, but it was only an interval, brought on by a nightmare and her unexpected need to get close to Logan just once.

  Her eyes drooped closed and she snuggled further into the warm body at her back. She’d enjoy the moment and stretch it out for as long as possible.

  * * *

  Logan held Karina like a delicate gift, never wanting to let her go. He didn’t know if it was in his power to lift his arm and set her free. Not that she was trying to move away. Quite the opposite.

  This was a precious time; an intimacy beyond making love. Their sweat-slicked bodies locked together as they cooled, their hearts slowing as that intense, mind-blocking release eased off. Of course he wanted to do it again, but not right at this moment. Now he wanted to treasure this amazing woman who’d shown the tormentors in his head where they could go—for a while at least.

  ‘You sent them packing,’ he murmured.

  ‘I’m glad. Now we know there is a cure.’

  He chuckled softly. As if it was going to be that easy. But he didn’t even mind so much at the moment. Around Karina, anything seemed possible. Even slaying dragons would be doable.

  ‘I’ve moved on from hot chocolate.’

  ‘You can have both.’

  She said nothing else for a while, and he began to think she’d fallen asleep. Then...

  ‘You gave me back my heart.’

  ‘Your ex bruised you that badly? He stole it and never returned it when he left?’

  Was this the first time for her since her marriage had fallen apart?

  ‘I thought I’d given him so much of myself there was nothing left for anyone else. Now I’m not so sure.’

  Her voice had got lower and lower, and he strained to hear her clearly.

  ‘Karina, like I said: you’re a beautiful woman with a big heart.’

  She’d done so much for him, right from the day he’d turned up here, full of ideas about what they should be doing with the house and the surgery. Despite their disagreement about the property she hadn’t flinched at extending him a hand.

  Under his arm she tensed.

  ‘Karina?’

  Silence.

  ‘Hey, I didn’t say that earlier just so I could have sex. I’m not saying it now because I’m grateful. I believe it. Truly believe it. Okay?’

  Had her ex told her how lovely she was to get his own way? While all along he’d been bonking his other woman on the side?

  ‘Okay.’

  The tension relaxed and she wriggled against him, that perfect backside rubbing where it counted and causing him to bite down on the need springing to life and tightening his manhood again.

  She stilled. Of course she’d have felt his reaction. Kind of hard to miss.

  He grinned. He was probably crazy not to be acting on it—he would do so shortly—but holding Karina in his arms had to be the best thing to happen to him in a long time. He continued holding her, burying his face in her silky hair, breathing in her scent. Sex and sweat and woman. He’d be a millionaire if he knew how to bottle that. But he didn’t want to share it. This was his moment; their moment.

  Carefully pulling the covers up to their necks, he shifted to get more comfortable. There were still hours left to enjoy before they had to get out of bed. He should be shivering from the cold, but he was warm for the first time in months. Sure, he’d been hot beyond comprehension out in the middle of Nigeria, but this warmth was inside him, heating the corners where he’d shoved his fear and vulnerability and cold anger. This warmth was all down to Karina.

  He could get used to it. Which was why he wouldn’t repeat it. There’d only be one night with Karina. It wouldn’t be fair on either of them to continue being intimate for the remainder of his time in Motueka and then for him to walk away as though it didn’t matter. Because it would. He’d have nudged aside one set of problems for another. But staying on permanently wouldn’t work. He still had to face down his fears.

  He shuddered. That day seemed to be racing at him and he was so not prepared. Despite tonight, and making love with Karina, the fact was those evil men did dominate his head, his life. He knew he had to prove they hadn’t won, that he could banish them for ever.

  He needed to get back to being normal. That wasn’t going to happen while he was shut away in small-town New Zealand. No, that required a visit to what was for him enemy territory. Another shudder. Then and only then did he stand a chance of making a life for himself. Maybe even a life that included a family.

  He already had Mickey. Karina would complete the picture.

  But he was getting way ahead of himself. They’d made love once and here he was thinking too far ahead. Just because Karina had him beginning to feel whole again, it didn’t mean she might contemplate a relatio
nship with him. She’d made a niche for herself with Mickey, and she certainly didn’t need a shell of a man living with them.

  So he’d enjoy this moment. Holding Karina, feeling complete, even knowing it couldn’t last, meant everything to him. She’d done so much for him in her kind and generous way.

  Now he had to do something for her.

  Unfortunately he knew exactly what that was.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  KARINA SANG UNDER her breath as she hopped out of the shower. Singing out loud would only bring complaints. But, damn she felt good this morning. Nothing like good sex—no, make that very good sex—with Logan to make the day wonderful.

  It’s six a.m. and the rain’s bucketing down, and I’m on top of my world.

  Uh-oh. Rain.

  Where were the buckets?

  Pushing into her robe, she dashed to the laundry and hastily placed buckets under the drips, took another to the bedroom next to Mickey’s and placed it under the newest problem.

  ‘When did that leak start?’

  Logan leaned the shoulder she’d kissed so thoroughly during the night against the doorframe, his hands in his jeans pockets, feet crossed at his ankles, sexy stubble on his chin. He looked like a very tired movie star.

  ‘Last night too much for you, lover-boy?’ She flicked a finger under his chin. Heat sizzled through her veins as that stubble softly rasped her skin. Tingles licked the base of her spine.

  He caught her finger to run his tongue over the tip. ‘Are you avoiding my question?’

  Her happiness slipped a notch. ‘There was a damp patch on the carpet after the last rainfall.’

  ‘I guess you’ll be buying more buckets this week, then.’ He didn’t look so happy either. ‘You should’ve told me.’

  This was why they shouldn’t have slept together.

  ‘Let’s make tea and toast. I’m hungry.’ All that exercise had used up last night’s dinner. She pushed past him. ‘You must be, too.’

  She’d noticed while exploring his body during the night—how could she not?—that his ribs didn’t stick out quite so much as that first time she’d seen his chest.