Leath's Legacy

by Anne Ashby

  She was like a toy boat traversing a flood-swollen river. Out of control. Fearful. Flotsam.

  And Kirk Buchanan had the damned gall to be unaware of the potency of his personality on her.

  “Penny was quite a hoarder.” He began poking about on one of the workbenches down the side of the barn. “I guess you’ll have discovered that?”

  “Actually,” she spoke stiffly, “it’s been the exact opposite. The house was stripped bare except for basic furniture and some books. It was very minimalistic.”

  Leath mooched around, looking at nothing in particular. Avoid looking at him. Talk about Penelope...that was good. Easy. “Nothing personal was left. We haven’t got around to any of this stuff yet. Robby can decide what to do with it later.”

  She turned her back on his raised eyebrows and moved further from his presence. She hadn’t asked for his help. Robby and she could manage quite well.

  “Maybe Mum will know who cleared up her house. We can ask her tonight.”

  He sounded helpful, but Leath was uneasy. Could last night’s emergency really have turned him from a deadly adversary into a pussy cat? Turning to eye him across the expanse of the big barn, she doubted it.

  The shadowiness of their surroundings suddenly impacted on Leath. It was still, murky, dangerous. The sound of the mower seemed kilometres away. She couldn’t hear Tristan at all. It didn’t matter Kirk wasn’t even looking at her.

  His approach as he rounded an old tractor and continued poking at things sent her into panic mode. She was too aware of him. Too sensitive to his presence.

  Her pulse raced. Her mouth dried. Her feet were stuck. Damn, she couldn’t move them out of danger. Her eyes bulged as she acknowledged the obvious. She was physically attracted to Kirk Buchanan.

  More than attracted. My body is in lust with him. In denial, she shook her head, trying to deepen the puffy breaths not even reaching her lungs.

  This was too ridiculous. He wasn’t interested in her. He wasn’t even looking at her. He was busy going through her benefactor’s belongings.

  Be thankful for that, screeched a voice in her head. It gives you time to disguise these absurd feelings.

  Just when Leath had herself in hand. Kirk tripped over something protruding from under the tractor and came flying toward her. It was natural for her arms to shoot out as he slammed into her. Those puffy little breaths disappeared altogether as Leath and Kirk fell onto the ground, a tangle of arms and legs.

  “I’m so sorry,” Kirk muttered from where he’d twisted to cushion her fall.

  It would have been preferable to connect with the ground instead of his body, Leath knew. Safer, anyway. Instead she lay legs wrapped around legs, arms wrapped around arms, bodies pressed tight together...

  “Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you?” The gloomy light didn’t dispel his concerned expression.

  Their faces were close. Dangerously close. His breath reminded her of after-dinner mints—those chocolate ones she loved and sometimes sneaked into her shopping trolley when their budget allowed.

  Heat gathered in her cheeks, and her tongue popped from her parched mouth to run across her lips. Her heart raced as a much more basic emotion crossed his face. His short, shallow breathing matched hers.

  The blue eyes swam out of focus as his head shifted...dipped closer. Afraid where this could lead she reared back, her movement propelling her lower body tighter against him, only to feel the evidence of his growing reaction.

  But her action misfired, having the opposite effect to what she intended. It energised Kirk rather than set her free. With a hand tight on her shoulder and a quick wriggle, he’d flipped her onto her back and was staring down into her eyes before she’d realised what had happened.

  Vulnerability was replaced by a rising excitement threatening to overcome her as a trouser-clad leg slid more suggestively between hers. The material rubbed like fine sandpaper against a delicate soft wood on the sensitive bare skin below her shorts.

  She’d forgotten how to breathe by the time his lips touched hers. Softly touched and teased, as if testing her reaction before he plundered hungrily.

  His tongue explored the recesses of her mouth, demanding a response she couldn’t deny. An unmistakeable bulge pressed against her stomach and heightened her awareness. She couldn’t control her body’s reaction and shivered.

  His gentle kneading of her breast increased the overwhelming sensations dancing inside her to a fever pitch. Her moan caught in his mouth as he tore his lips away to assault the side of her neck.

  Delicious sensations flooded over her as he rolled her hardened nipple between his finger and thumb and drew another muted moan. Unconsciously her hands had threaded themselves through his hair and a wriggle had splayed her legs to accommodate him.

  His breath was hot on her face as his moist, firm mouth skidded to cover hers in another long, hard, and hot kiss. She opened herself to him, her mouth, her arms, her whole body...

  “Leath? Leath? Can me and Danny have a drink please? We’re real thirsty.”

  How long it took the sound to penetrate, Leath wasn’t sure. She shoved at Kirk’s chest, trying to slither out from underneath him before Tristan followed his voice into the barn.

  “Leath, Uncle Kirk? Where are you?” He rounded the tractor before Leath could scramble to her feet. “What are you doing?” His innocent query was followed by a wide-eyed, “Ooww, you were kissing.”

  “I tripped over that bar.” Kirk’s voice sounded unsteady as he pointed to the steel rod that had upended him. “Leath was just checking to see if I’d hurt myself.”

  He sounded convincing, but would the boy believe him? “She is a nurse, remember.”

  Leath bit her lip, closing her eyes to all the mixed up, crazy feelings jitterbugging around inside her. Her mind whirled. She didn’t need to explain anything to a child when she couldn’t explain it to herself.

  Determined to re-enforce Kirk’s comment, the grinning boy was too quick for Leath. He tore out the barn singing the old children’s adage at the top of his voice. “Leath and Uncle sitting up a tree—no, lying in the barn—k,i,s,s,i,n,g.”

  An embarrassed groan, one echoed by Kirk, escaped at Tristan’s adaptation. Fire burned her face. “Stop him!”

  She rounded on the unconcerned man brushing dust from his clothes. “He’s your nephew. Would you go and stop him?” When Kirk made no move to comply, she snapped, “Right now,” before storming out of the barn toward the house.

  With an almighty slam of her bedroom door, Leath sank onto the bed, burying her scorching face in her hands. “Urg.”

  She tried to force oxygen into her lungs, but her pounding heart rejected its presence.

  How could she have allowed such a thing to happen?

  Her head sank lower. And still lower. Low enough to connect with her knees.

  Oh no!

  She didn’t want any complications right now. Not when she was finally seeing some positivity in her life again. And yet that’s what she’d just allowed. A huge, inconvenient complication she could well do without.

  She lifted the ton weight resting on her knees and tried to think rationally. Her gaze flicked around the room. She couldn’t stay in here. He was outside. For heaven’s sake, his nephews were mowing her lawn.

  She groaned again as she remembered accepting a dinner invitation from him and his parents for tonight. Could she cancel?

  No! Kirk and the boys had made it obvious the meal was being prepared especially for her. But how can I face any of them? She scrubbed a hand around the back of her neck, screwing up her face.

  Working with children had taught her they rarely displayed reticence, let alone practised it. Tristan would never keep to himself what he’d seen in the barn. Heat flooded her face again as she clamoured to her feet.

  Could she ask him to keep quiet? As a dash of hope ignited, memory of her parents’ childhood lectures flashed through her mind and she quashed it.

  An adult wanting to
keep a secret with a child had such sinister connotations. She couldn’t put Tristan in that position. It was her responsibility to accept the consequences of her own actions.

  She had to face Tristan. She had to face his grandparents. Worst of all, she had to face Kirk.

  Quite how, she wasn’t sure, but hiding in here wasn’t an option. Gingerly opening the door, she peeked out. Chiding herself for her caution, a nervous giggle escaped—as if he’d come into the house unannounced.

  Releasing her breath in a dispirited sigh, Leath edged toward the kitchen. This all started...well maybe stopped...when Tristan asked for a drink.

  She looked out the window. It was hot. It was the middle of the afternoon on a very hot, still day. And those two little guys were working hard. They needed a drink. They deserved a drink.

  Relieved she’d found something trivial to concentrate on, and disregard other more bewildering thoughts, Leath stretched for a bottle of lemon cordial on the pantry’s top shelf and made a jug full.

  Accompanied by four glasses and a packet of biscuits, Leath loaded the drink onto a tray. She paused at the front door, rolling her eyes. After half a dozen deep breaths, which did little to quell the pounding in her ears, she balanced the tray and swung the door open.

  Kirk Buchanan had disappeared. Her breath caught in her throat, Leath swivelled around so she could inspect the whole front yard. He was nowhere in sight. He was still somewhere close because his truck was here.

  Daniel was still driving back and forth across the grass. She couldn’t resist smiling as she noticed Tristan had grown weary of chasing the mower and sat morosely under a tree.

  Had the boy been watching for her? It would seem so, because he jumped up and dashed toward the house the moment she appeared.

  “I didn’t mean nothing.” His little chin wobbled. “Can I still come over at the weekend?” Now his voice wobbled and his head dipped. “Or don’t you want me anymore?”

  Leath forgot her own trepidation. Quickly putting the tray down, she sank onto the patio surround and drew the sad little guy right into her arms. What had his uncle said to upset him like this? Leath’s unease turned to anger...a much more manageable emotion. How dare he suggest Leath would rescind on her invitation.

  “Of course I still want you to come and help me.” A shudder ran through the boy’s body. When she held him to arms length his dark eyes shone with tightly controlled tears he was too big to let escape.

  Ignoring his watery snuffle, Leath smiled, even as under her breath she swore at Kirk Buchanan and his misguided attempt to silence this boy. What was he? Some sort of moron? Hadn’t he recognised his talk to Tristan had upset the boy deeply?

  “Uncle Kirk said maybe I wouldn’t be allowed to come down when I told him.” His voice still wobbled. “I told him you asked.” His face clouded even further. “I didn’t ask, did I? You said maybe I could help you.”

  Leath was so angry at Kirk she could spit. She’d have something to say to him about this later. But first she had to reassure Tristan.

  She winked solemnly and tapped her nose three times. Her action lightened him and a hesitant smile hovered around his lips. “We’ll talk to your Grandma tonight.”

  All sign of tears vanished. A smile covered his face, his gaze sparkling across at her. Then a little frown gathered, and he slipped a hand into hers. “You’re not mad at me?”

  What could she say? Probably, she should be thanking him. What might have happened if he hadn’t called out? “Of course I’m not mad.”

  “Unc said—”

  “I don’t care what your uncle said.” Leath smiled and hoped Tristan didn’t hear the grinding of her teeth. “I’m definitely not mad at you, and I definitely would like your company at the weekend. If your Grandma says it’s okay.”

  “Oh, she will, I’m sure.” The clouds had disappeared from the boy’s horizon, and his grin was more than a little cheeky as he eyed the biscuits lying on the tray. “I really like those biscuits,” he hinted.

  “Do you?” Leath smiled back. “Just as well I have a couple more packets then, isn’t it? For if we get hungry at the weekend.”

  As he ripped open the offered packet, movement across the yard caught Leath’s eye. Kirk was wandering out of the unit she was working on. He had nerve.

  “Tristan?” Leath tried to keep her voice light even as her hackles shot up at Kirk’s audacity. “Would you go and tell Daniel to come for a drink?”

  Tristan took off, waving his arms to attract his brother’s attention.

  Leath turned to face the approaching man, her fists landing on her hips as she took in his smarmy amble and his I’m-so-proud-of-myself smile. The risk of imminent dental care winged away as her teeth ground even harder.

  “What did you say to that boy?” she demanded before he got too close. Before she could feel the heat from his body. Before she could smell the very essence of him.

  She swallowed, hoping whatever was clamouring to get out of her stomach would stay put. Attacking the object of her angst seemed the safest way to diffuse what happened...she jerked her gaze away from the barn, refusing to allow that to enter her thoughts.

  “You told me to shut him up.” Kirk appeared unconcerned. “I shut him up.”

  “You upset him terribly,” Leath accused. “You had no right to tell him I wouldn’t want him around.”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “He said you did.” Leath felt her eyebrows raise, her fists planted more firmly on her hips.

  “Well, I might have intimated—”

  “You had no—” Leath’s voice faded as Kirk took a step closer, too close, and stared down at her. A tremor shivered down her back.

  “Make up your mind,” he snapped. “You either want him muzzled or not.” He turned aside. “If not, I’ll tell him—”

  “No! no, leave it. I’ve talked—”

  “I don’t know what you’re making such a big deal about.” He shrugged. “It’s not as if he saw anything. It was only a kiss.”

  Only a kiss? Something shrivelled up inside Leath.

  Disbelief permeated in freezing, bitter ice to replace the nervous churning inside her. Cracking and spreading quickly through her body, the sensation soon engulfed her.

  Thank God he’d turned to watch Daniel drive the mower toward them immediately after he’d uttered those words. Her eyes bulged and her hands slipped from her hips and dangled at her sides. Only a kiss? Oh God.

  She prayed for a hole she could crawl into and die. Anything to take her away from here and now. Away from Kirk Buchanan.

  The foul taste of blood filled her mouth, and she realised she’d bitten her lip to quell her cry. But she felt no pain, just relief. A cut lip didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except hiding the truth.

  Only a kiss.

  She blinked furiously to obliterate her tears. It had been so much more to her. It had been mind-boggling, revealing, earth shattering. His touch had affected her in a way Peter’s never had.

  Heat clamoured with the ice and settled in her cheeks. Never before had she been overwhelmed so quickly, so effortlessly. Stifling a groan, she squeezed her eyes closed. If Tristan hadn’t interrupted them, she had no doubt their little roll-in-the-hay would have reached its logical conclusion.

  Giving her head a sharp little shake, she tried desperately to collect herself. She had seconds to suppress...suppress what? Her horror? Her guilt? Her shame? Rounded shoulders slumped further. No, it was her frustration she had to bury and hide from Kirk. And her pain.

  Straightening her back and laughing gaily—please tell me it didn’t sound strangled, she prayed—Leath turned and began filling glasses with cordial, using her body to screen her shaking hands from him. Thank heavens the drink was clear. Kirk would never see how much spilled onto the tray.

  “Come on, boys,” she called as the mower ground to a halt close by. “Come and have a drink. You can wash your hands in the kitchen. You must be thirsty after all that hard work.”
>
  Leath reared away from the touch on her arm. Kirk was frowning. “Leath?”

  She laughed again, more convincingly she hoped this time. “Hey, forget it. Like you said, it wasn’t anything major.” She turned and pointed the approaching boys toward the kitchen. “It was no big deal, I assure you.”

  It was possible to ignore him with two boys vying for her attention. At least she hoped she gave the impression ignoring him was no effort at all.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kirk’s hands remained clenched in his trouser pockets. The cold drink Leath had offered sat on the ledge in front of him. His blood was sizzling so much he was afraid if he moved he’d give away his frustration.

  If it had only been his pride she’d bruised...but implying their coming together—their almost coming together—had been of no consequence?

  It had felt so right; they’d fitted so perfectly together. Like ham and cheese, like bread and butter, hell, like man and woman were supposed to fit together. They’d been like that.

  He scowled across at his younger nephew, blaming him for interrupting what could have been an incredible experience.

  Instead he’d been summarily dispatched to silence the boy. Kirk shifted uneasily, drawing a furtive glance from Leath and a suggestion he should sit down.

  He frowned. Maybe he had been a little hard on the boy, but frustration had driven his words. He’d still felt her touch, her fingers buried in his hair, their grip on his head. Her perfume had still filled his nose. His body had still ached with unreleased passion.

  Even now, amidst chattering boys and a coolly unaffected Leath, Kirk had not regained total control of his body. He jerked his hands from his pockets, readjusting his trousers as casually as possible.

  Hunching forward to disguise the bulge that showed no sign of dissipating, he leant his elbows on his knees and propped up his chin with splayed fingers. Slowly and doggedly he began silently counting backwards from a hundred.

  When Leath bent over to pick up a dropped biscuit her top gaped and allowed him a perfect view of the breasts he’d touched, held in the palm of his hand, contemplated suckling in his mouth...one thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine, nine hundred and ninety-eight, nine hundred and ninety-seven. Should he have started at one million? He stifled a groan and kept counting, nine hundred and ninety-six.