‘I…I know.’
‘Who cut your hair?’ Shanni asked suddenly. The child’s crop looked as if it had been attacked by a pruning saw. Ragged and uneven, it ranged from almost touching the collar of her pyjamas to being almost scalp-short.
‘I did,’ Wendy said, distracted from nightmares for a moment. ‘When we had the chicken pox. Abby spilled her drink, and I was mopping it up under the table when Donald spilled craft glue. It went into my hair. I tried to wash it out but it wouldn’t wash. So I cut it.’
‘What did Pierce say when he saw?’
‘He phoned the hairdresser, but she wouldn’t cut it cos of the chicken pox.’ She put a hand through her ragged curls. ‘It’s okay.’
‘It’s not,’ Shanni said. Here at last was something she could do. Girl stuff. ‘After your swim tomorrow, what say you and me go into town and find a hairdresser? And a clothes shop. You’re wearing the same clothes as Abby.’
‘Mum said it was easier.’
‘Yes, but your mum was sick, and I like a challenge.’ She grinned. ‘There’s nothing like a bit of retail therapy to drive away nightmares. I’ll hit Pierce for an advance on my wages if he won’t pay.’
‘Retail therapy?’
‘Clothes,’ Shanni said. ‘Clothes and shoes and hair. Pretty stuff. Girl stuff. You’re eleven years old, Wendy MacLachlan. You can be a kid and have fun all you want to, but it’s time you had a play at being a young lady.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
PIERCE stood on the battlements and stared out over the moonlit sea. This was one of the most beautiful places on earth. He should be soaking in the beauty of the night.
Instead, all he could think of was the haunted face of the child he’d just left. Shadows. So many shadows, haunting them all. How the hell could he face them down for Wendy when he hadn’t faced down his own?
‘She’s asleep.’ The soft words made him turn. Shanni had come up beside him, so close she was touching him. She was wrapped in a blanket, her pyjamas underneath.
The pig pyjamas?
‘I was going to leave her in bed with me, but she wanted Abby. So I took her back to bed and waited till she was asleep.’ She hesitated. ‘Great view,’ she said at last.
‘Yes.’
‘She’s quite a kid.’
‘I know that.’
‘Did you know she’s been abused?’
He stilled. The night seemed to freeze. ‘Abused…’
‘Not sexually,’ Shanni said. ‘Not that I can figure. But the last of Maureen’s partners seems to have knocked her round. She’s been locked in wardrobes in the dark.’
‘I guessed something like that,’ he said heavily.
‘You guessed?’
‘I took the kids to a psychologist just after Maureen died. They were all traumatized to some extent-well, they would be when their mother just died-but the way Wendy flinched if I raised my voice…But Wendy wouldn’t talk to the psychologist. There was nothing I could do to make her.’
‘It’s some commitment you’ve taken on.’
‘I never meant to,’ he said heavily, and dug his hands deep into his pockets. ‘God knows I wanted nothing to do with all this.’
‘Then why did you take them on?’
‘I thought it’d be easy,’ he said explosively. ‘They were almost totally self-contained. Before Maureen died I was allowed to do nothing. Wendy and Bryce controlled Donald and Abby. They kept out of my way. They were quiet-unnaturally quiet, but I didn’t know that. I’m thinking now that Maureen must have ordered them to leave me alone-to let me do nothing for them. Anyway, it was only after Bessy was born-after I’d made my promise and my commitment-that I started seeing the chasm I’d jumped into.’
‘Chasm?’
‘I was supposed to hire a housekeeper and head back to the city,’ he snapped. ‘How easy’s that? I’d come down at weekends when I could, pat them on the head, feel good about keeping them all together and then leave again.’
‘Only now you see that they desperately need someone more than a housekeeper?’
‘I can’t give that sort of commitment.’
‘I think you already have.’
‘I haven’t.’
‘You’re their adoptive father. There’s no one else.’
‘Hell, Shanni, I don’t do commitment.’
‘Because?’
‘Look, relationships…They’re a disaster.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s none of your business.’
‘No.’ But…‘Ruby had you four different times when you were a kid,’ she said cautiously. Sure, this was none of her business, but then when had ‘not being her business’ ever stopped her from sticking in her oar? She was too far in now to draw back. She had obligations to Wendy, and if that meant facing down Pierce’s ghosts then so be it. Shanni, family counsellor. Right.
‘So that meant you kept going back to your mother?’ she asked.
For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he shrugged.
‘Whenever she had a relationship.’
‘So when she had a man, she wanted you as well? How did that work?’
‘She played happy families. My mother loved talking about “my husband”. “My son”. Only she had to have them both. Both or nothing. So, when the relationship ended, back I’d go to foster homes. To Ruby when I was lucky.’
‘So the end of each relationship meant you went back to being safe with Ruby.’ She whistled. ‘Boy, a psychiatrist could have a carnival with you.’
‘Do you mind?’ he demanded, and she shrugged and managed a smile.
‘No, cos I’m interested.’ She hugged her blanket closer. ‘And I’ve just played psychologist with Wendy, so I might as well do it with you. Does this all mean you’ll never want marriage or your own kids-which is why you offered to take on Maureen’s? Maybe you even thought it could protect you even more from relationships.’
His face was frozen, blank and hard. ‘I’m going to bed.’
‘Did anyone lock you in a cupboard?’
There was a loaded silence. She’d gone too far, she thought. Whoops. Was she doing more harm than good? That was starting to be the story of her life.
‘You did get the sort of treatment that was meted out to Wendy,’ she said softly. ‘You and Maureen both. Which is why you had to help her. Oh, Pierce.’
‘This is crazy.’ He was staring out to sea, carefully not looking at her. He was big and tough and carefully self-contained-rigidly self-contained. ‘I will not have anyone feeling sorry for me.’
‘No, why would you?’ she whispered. ‘You’re a wealthy bachelor with a brilliant professional reputation and the world at your feet. As opposed to me, a penniless practically orphan.’
‘Orphan?’
‘They changed the locks on my childhood home.’
‘You’re how old?’
‘They’ve locked me out from Susie Belle.’
He choked. His laughter made her smile. That was what she’d been aiming for. ‘It’s not such a tragedy,’ she admitted softly. ‘As you imply, I’m a big girl. I’ll deal with my trauma myself.’ Her smile faded. ‘But Wendy can’t.’
‘I’ll talk to Nick tomorrow. He’s a qualified child psychologist, and he’s worked with damaged kids.’
‘This castle has everything,’ Shanni said and went back to looking out to sea. She was too close to Pierce, she thought, but she couldn’t step away without seeming…Without seeming…
‘I’d like to take Wendy shopping tomorrow,’ she said.
He blinked. He looked confused, she thought. Well, why not? That made two of them.
‘Why do you want to go shopping?’
‘Retail therapy.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m thinking this is a glorious time to give these kids the individual attention they crave. They’ve been a solid bunch until now-they’ve had to be. But they also need to learn to be their own people.’
‘That’ll happen soon enough.’
‘Sorry? You think learning to be your own person means learning not to need?’
‘Doesn’t it?’
‘Hey, I’m not the psychologist. Ask Nick.’
‘I don’t need…’
‘To ask Nick anything. No. You stand alone. Only, you’re not able to. Not now you’ve officially adopted these kids as yours. If you’re not careful, you’ll end up needing them as much as they need you.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Says the man who walks alone.’ She grinned. ‘Even Tarzan had his Jane.’
‘You’re being silly.’
‘And you’re being serious.’ She gazed deliberately out at the sea some more, trying to build some emotional distance between them. ‘You know this is the most fantastic place…’
‘It is.’
‘So why aren’t you working?’
‘I have been working. I was out in the hall when I heard Wendy. Then I came up here to think.’
‘Am I stopping you thinking?’
‘Yes.’
‘There’s a blunt answer,’ she said, and chuckled. ‘Someone sensitive might take that to mean “shove off”.’
‘But you’re not sensitive?’
‘Nope.’
‘You should be in bed. You hardly slept last night. I’m sorry Wendy woke you.’
‘I’m not. It’s far more important to banish demons than sleep. You, as a Tarzan lookalike, should surely know that.’
‘Shanni…’
‘I know. I’m out of line.’ She stared out at the moonlit sea some more. It was almost getting boring, but otherwise she had to look at him, and looking at Pierce was really, really hard. ‘You and the kids are so needful.’
‘Will you cut it out?’
‘I’m not very good at butting out of what’s not my business.’ She shrugged and then smiled again. ‘Besides, it’s keeping my mind off my own troubles-and you are paying me for it.’
‘Paying you for what?’
‘For taking care of the children.’
‘So take care of the children,’ he snapped, sounding exasperated. ‘Leave me out of it.’
‘But you guys are all mixed up. You’re a family that’s not working.’
‘We are not a family.’ It was practically a roar, and she blinked and took a step back.
‘Whoa.’
‘I never meant…’
‘You never meant you’re not a family?’
‘Yes. No. Hell, Shanni.’
‘You’re terrified.’
‘I’m not. The kids will recover here. I’ll get the bulk of my work done. Then we’ll set our minds to find a proper housekeeper.’
‘It can’t work.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because you’re involved.’
‘I’m not involved.’
She paused, not sure where to go from here. This man was all macho male on the outside, but inside she was starting to see he was the same battered kid she’d met almost twenty years ago.
‘Hey, the human race isn’t scary,’ she whispered.
‘Isn’t it?’
‘No, it’s not,’ she said, and suddenly she reached out and took his hands. It was a gesture made almost before she knew what she was doing, but it felt right. His hands felt good in hers-big and warm and reassuring.
She was reassuring him, she thought, getting a bit confused. It was Pierce who was standing on the battlements looking like he was seeing ghosts. She wasn’t taking warmth-she was giving it.
Her blanket had fallen off.
‘It’s okay to fall for the kids,’ she said. ‘Love’s not really scary.’
‘Says the lady with the ice bucket.’
She chuckled. ‘See, if I hadn’t thought I’d fallen in love, I’d never have known what it was like to toss a bucket of ice water over a naked slimeball and his floozy.’
‘And that’s a plus?’
‘Definitely a plus.’
‘You’re nuts.’
‘I know,’ she said, gathering her dignity about her as best she could-slightly tricky when she was covered in pink pigs and her blanket was around her ankles. ‘But at least I’m not scared to have a go.’
‘At falling in love?’
‘At life,’ she said with dignity.
‘You’re saying I’m scared of life?’
‘Who knows?’ She stared up at him for a long moment. His face looked harsh in the moonlight, dark and angular and stern. But she knew what it was like when he smiled. She wanted him to smile again. Badly.
‘Come shopping with Wendy and me in the morning,’ she said. She was still holding his hands. For some reason, it seemed almost impossible to let them go.
‘I’m not sure what the set-up here is. Hamish and Susie may have plans.’
‘They do have plans. Their plans are to give the kids the best time they know how. If that involves us absconding with one small girl to make her happy…’
‘The others might get upset.’
‘Don’t you believe it. They look after each other, this lot, and if we explain Wendy needs some TLC I’ll bet they won’t make a single protest.’
‘TLC?’
‘What you need,’ she said. ‘Tender loving care.’
‘Shanni…’He pulled back with his hands, but she didn’t let go.
‘Stop looking terrified.’
‘I am not terrified.’
‘Are too.’
‘Let go.’
‘Of course I will,’ she said, and her stupid wayward mouth kept on working even though a lesser mortal-or a more sensible one-would have pulled back long since. ‘I’m battered, too, remember? No way am I sliding into another dumb relationship, so you’re safe with me. But you’re not safe from everyone, Pierce. You can’t stay in isolation for ever. It doesn’t even feel good.’
‘I don’t…’
‘You don’t know what it is to connect.’ She smiled, teasing, not sure that what she was doing was sensible or even possible. ‘It’s great. Just close your eyes and jump.’
And before he could say a word-before he could make a move to protect himself-she released his hands, she placed her own hands on the sides of his face and tugged him down. And she kissed him.
It was meant to be fun. It was meant to be different from the night before-a teasing, bantering kiss, a reminder to this aloof man that connecting could be fun. Maybe after last night she was crazy to make such a gesture. But she did, rightly or not. And what followed…
Her blanket had already fallen off, but now…more than her blanket fell off. Her prudence, her sanity, her dignity, all disintegrated in that tiny instant when his lips came in contact with hers.
It was crazy. It was ridiculous. Unlike last night, this time she’d meant to be a woman in control of the situation, teasing him a little, flirting, maybe even mocking.
But it wasn’t working. Because none of those descriptions of what she was doing fitted the reality of now.
She wasn’t teasing. Nor was she in control.
She was aware of one thing only. The feel of his lips on hers.
Wow.
As simple as that. Wow.
She’d kissed before-of course she’d kissed before-but where had this feeling been then? This sensation of heat-of fusing-of two halves coming together, connecting as if they’d been torn apart and had been trying to find their way together long since.
Heat…
The sensation of his lips touching hers sent fire right through her. She could feel it coursing from her toes to her fingertips.
What was happening?
This was no longer a fleeting kiss. He was holding her as if, like her, he was no longer cool and controlled, but rather he’d been taken over by a surge of feelings so strong that he could do nothing but give in to them.
How long they stayed like that, she could never afterwards remember. She had bare feet. They were cold against the stones and afterwards in the privacy of her bedroom she would feel them and think she’d been d
umb to stay on the battlements for so long.
But that was for later. That was for a time when she could feel her feet. Which wasn’t now.
Now.
Her mouth opened under his, and it was like she was melting into him. Pierce…
His kiss deepened and deepened again. She was holding him tight, glorying in the strength of him, the arrant maleness, the sheer wonder of his body against hers.
The fusing of their mouths was no longer enough. He was exploring her body with his hands, holding her close, forcing her breasts to mould against his chest. He was glorying in the sensation of two bodies merging just as much as she was.
An image crept into her mind. How strange, that it should have stayed with her, and resurrected itself here at this time. It was the vision of Pierce as she’d first seen him. Fifteen years old, tall, dark and malnourished, all angular bones and shadows.
The image was so strong that it was almost a part of her. Had she held him in her heart all this time?
It was ridiculous. But it wasn’t. It suddenly felt right. The coming together of something that was almost meant to be.
Crazy. Fanciful. But powerful beyond belief, so powerful that it almost terrified her. But it didn’t terrify her so much that she pulled away. She couldn’t. For along with the terror came something else, something so sweet and so strong that she felt she was changing, a chrysalis shedding its outer shell to reveal a beauty that made her gasp.
Pierce…
She held him close, aware that part of her was kissing that bereft, solitary fifteen-year-old, seeking to comfort, seeking to warm, but most of her was kissing the man he’d become. The man who’d taken in these children when the last thing he wanted was family responsibility. The man who’d driven a bull from her path. The man whose smile made her heart turn over, and whom she wanted with every fibre of her being.
In another time, another place, they might have been so out of control that things might have moved to their logical conclusion. For Shanni there was no question. This kiss had changed her world, and her fragile web of control was so shattered that she could only savour the kiss, savour the feel of him and hold him, never wanting to release him.
His Miracle Bride Page 11