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The Family She Needs
Sue MacKay


And doctor makes three…Nurse Karina Brown only has room in her heart for one guy: four-year-old Mickey. Running a small-town surgery and looking after a little boy with Down syndrome isn't easy, but Katrina wouldn't have it any other way.Until Mickey's co-guardian, gorgeous Dr. Logan Pascale, moves into their home–determined to sell up! His heart is on lockdown but soon, united in their love for Mickey, Logan and Karina are falling for each other, too! Can Karina persuade Logan that everything he needs is right under her roof…already?












Praise for Sue MacKay (#ulink_6959a44b-f8e8-5670-9abc-e30224a2957f)


‘The Gift of a Child by Sue MacKay is a deeply emotional, heart-rending story that will make you smile and make you cry. I truly recommend it—and don’t miss the second book: the story about Max.’

—HarlequinJunkie

‘What a great book. I loved it. I did not want it to end. This is one book not to miss.’

—GoodReads on The Gift of a Child


‘Were you ever hit? Shot, I mean?’ The question was quiet, and filled with a lot of other questions.

‘No.’ Logan straightened and looked directly at Karina. ‘No.’

That wasn’t a lie. A dead hostage was no use to anyone. The guns had been pointed a metre either side of him, the bullets kicking up the dust close enough that he’d felt the grit on his legs, the warning explicit. Don’t think you can get away.

Logan looked deep into Karina’s eyes, saw nothing but her big-hearted concern and felt his heart roll. His finger touched her chin, his thumb slipping over her smooth skin.

‘But you had a bad time?’

‘Yeah, Karina, I did.’

Then he bent and brushed his lips over hers to stop her talking any more. Except the instant his mouth touched hers he had to have more, had to lose himself in her. His arms came up and wrapped around her, hauling her warm, soft body in close against his chilled, frightened one. He could forget the horror while Karina deflected him. He deepened his kiss. Karina returned it, meeting each of his moves with one of her own. Then her arms slid around his neck and pulled him even closer and he felt safe. Warm and cared about and safe.




Dear Reader (#u42936770-8fc4-5da0-ae1e-9ff57928786c),


Many years ago I moved from Auckland to the small rural town of Motueka—talk about a culture shock! But once I got my head around no traffic lights, and all the apples and kiwifruit anyone could wish for growing everywhere, I quickly discovered some of the most wonderful people and made a lifelong friend there.

When I wanted to tip Karina Brown out of her usual Auckland haunts and into somewhere that could nurture her I naturally chose Motueka, and let the locals work their magic on her, too. And then along comes Logan Pascale—and if ever there’s a man who needs help it’s him. Of course it’s Karina who really gets him back on his feet, with her big heart and a ton of love to share.

I hope you enjoy following these two on their journey to happiness.

Cheers!

Sue MacKay


With a background of working in medical laboratories, and a love of the romance genre, it is no surprise that SUE MACKAY writes Mills & Boon® Medical Romance™ stories. An avid reader all her life, she wrote her first story at age eight—about a prince, of course. She lives with her own hero in the beautiful Marlborough Sounds, at the top of New Zealand’s South Island, where she indulges her passions for the outdoors, the sea and cycling.




The Family She Needs

Sue MacKay







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To Jacqui. Thank you for the keys to your house, a sympathetic ear, lots of advice I mostly ignored, and the best ever parties. It might’ve been a long time ago but I’ve never forgotten.




Table of Contents


Cover (#u8d81a443-694c-5ee2-ac06-714a31ce6a70)

Praise for Sue MacKay (#u6cf3edaa-68da-578f-9c80-8920bce2e7d7)

Excerpt (#u0ddd9d93-63f6-5318-bd72-e463c2997228)

Dear Reader

About the Author (#u5f9dde02-9c30-597f-8f93-7f901747eaa0)

Title Page (#ud3a04bae-f62d-5565-9e6a-20b4e7e62107)

Dedication (#u76f3c253-7438-5324-8fff-3f9b691aae57)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_451e878d-cbf0-5dc3-9f70-ae3357b73b1c)

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_6f287ef8-333f-5498-ae25-f6ec74873838)

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_93670cee-d1ee-5310-8d75-f3040edae465)

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_2cb099e6-1667-5311-b0ff-1135e16fdec5)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_8023fa50-6e1a-546b-949b-143432a60c09)


‘I’M AFRAID IT’S a no from this bank, Miss Brown.’ The manager stood abruptly, indicating the interview was over.

Karina gritted her teeth to hold back a sharp retort. Miss Brown? In a town where everyone from millionaires to bag ladies was on first-name terms, she had just been insulted. She’d lived in Motueka for a little under a year but no one called her Miss anything. She was Karina Brown. End of. Had been since the day she’d left Auckland in a blaze of flashing media cameras and pushy reporters shoving microphones in her face as they demanded answers to questions she’d had no intention of answering. The day she’d gone back to her maiden name and left her old life behind to go and reinvent herself.

‘Thank you for your time, Mr Pederson.’ She gave the same back through clamped jaws.

Rising from the chair, she was astonished to feel her legs shaking. Smoothing down her knee-length pencil skirt and tugging her shoulders back tight inside her tailored jacket—not worn since Auckland—Karina strode out of the bank manager’s office with all the aplomb of her old persona. She would not grovel for the money she desperately needed to buy the other half of the house—not yet. Being told no just increased her determination to achieve her goal.

‘How’d that go?’ Rebecca called, only loudly enough for her to hear.

Crossing to her friend, who was more commonly known as Becca, despite her name badge, stationed at the bank’s customer service desk, Karina shook her head. ‘A big fail. Apparently I’m not a good prospect for lending money to.’

Ironic, considering her background. Once upon a time several hundred thousand dollars had been chickenfeed to her. Nowadays she lived on the wages she earned as a nurse at the medical centre she jointly owned in the small rural town of Motueka, far removed from that glamorous life. She had a tiny nest egg, put aside for rainy days, but nothing big enough to buy out Logan Pascale.

‘Don’t you dare think like that,’ growled Becca.

‘I showed him the property valuation and suggested I could spread the loan out for thirty years.’ She’d be sixty-four and nearly ready to retire by then, but it would be worth it.

Becca leaned closer. ‘It shouldn’t mean a thing, but half the problem is you’re not a local. Here, coming from the Big Smoke up north is like coming from another country.’

‘I’ve heard that enough to know it’s true.’ But it didn’t explain the malicious gleam in Pederson’s eyes as he’d told her no. He’d been enjoying himself at her expense. ‘Bet he’s looked me up online.’

‘Are you sure you want a mortgage hanging over your head? Couldn’t you ask someone in your family for the money this once?’

‘What?’ Karina shuddered. Prove to her father that what he believed had been right all along? That she couldn’t make it on her own? ‘No!’ she barked, too loudly.

Becca wouldn’t understand her need to stand on her own two tiny feet and do what was right for a little boy who relied entirely on her for everything.

‘I can’t do that,’ she reiterated, more quietly. This was the toughest test she’d faced so far in her stand to be independent. So suck it up and beat the odds.

‘I figured that’d be your answer, but don’t let your pride get in the way of what’s right.’

Jeepers, Becca, be blunt, why don’t you?

‘Anything I do will be what’s right for Mickey.’

Mickey. The boy she loved as if he were her own. As one of his two guardians, she intended doing everything within her power to make sure she kept the only home he’d known. She’d promised his parents no less.

‘How is that bundle of mischief? I haven’t seen him for days.’

‘Mickey’s cool.’

Damn, but this was hard. She also needed to keep everything exactly as it was for herself. She’d crafted a new life in which she was in control and happy, in a quiet, comfortable way.

‘Just the usual hiccups. Not enough honey on his toast and me putting the wrong shirt out for him to wear to kindergarten.’

‘I bet you give him everything he wants.’

‘How can I refuse when he gives me that gappy grin? But this morning he was very clingy and didn’t want to go to kindergarten. Most unusual. Said his tummy was sore.’

‘Did you insist on him going?’

Karina shrugged. ‘Jonty’s looking after him while I’m here.’

Becca returned to the original problem. ‘What are you going to do about buying out Dr Pascale now?’

‘Know a millionaire with lots of cash stashed under his bed?’ A few hundred thousand was all she needed but, hey, in for an apple, in for a sack full of dollars.

‘You want a sexy hunk to go with those millions?’

‘Rich and sexy? All in one package? What’s the catch?’ Because she’d had that package and knew the pitfalls all too well.

‘I don’t know any guy around here fitting the description.’ Becca grinned.

‘Just as well.’ Karina smiled back, thankful that her friend hadn’t pointed out which of them actually knew the most millionaires.

‘You still don’t want to put your toe in the dating pond?’

‘That’s the last thing I want. I’m enjoying being in charge of my own life. Why would I want to give that up to be told which functions to attend and who to invite to dinner?’

Becca chose not to answer that. Instead she went with ‘Heard when the good doctor’s actually arriving?’ A gleam of excitement lit up her eyes.

‘Not a dickey bird. I don’t even know if he’s left Africa yet.’ Hopefully he was still out in the wilderness, working with people who needed his medical skills. ‘The longer I hear nothing, the longer I’ve got to come up with a solution for the house.’

But the days were running out—fast.

‘Wonder what he’s like? Even if he doesn’t have millions under his bed he could be sexy.’

‘Like that’s going to make a difference to anything.’

The situation was complicated enough, with them sharing guardianship of Mickey and having joint ownership of the house and attached medical centre. They’d never met, which suited her perfectly. She’d kept everything ticking over since Maria and James had died. Dr Pascale hadn’t made it home for his brother and his sister-in-law’s funeral—hadn’t talked to Karina at all, even by phone. Their only communication had been through the lawyers acting for the unusual partnership put in place solely to protect Mickey.

When a letter had arrived from the estate lawyers stating that Dr Logan Pascale wanted to sell the property and invest the money for Mickey’s future, she’d felt a familiar punch in her stomach. Only this time she refused to fold. This time she would stand up to anything being thrown at her and would not be told what to do. Mickey shouldn’t be moved away from all his memories of his parents.

When Maria and James had approached her about becoming a guardian if the unthinkable happened, she’d promised to do everything to make Mickey happy. Maria, her best friend ever, had hugged her and said that was exactly why they were asking. Now she had a promise to keep.

Putting that aside, Karina said, ‘Guess I’d better be getting home.’ She turned to stare out through the glass doors and shivered at the sight. ‘It wasn’t raining when I walked up here.’ Though the sky had been grey and threatening. ‘My car needs two new tyres.’ It sat in the driveway going nowhere in the meantime.

‘I’d offer you my truck, but my brother’s borrowed it.’ Becca handed her a large umbrella with bright blue logos splashed across it. She winked. ‘Compliments of the bank. They’re only for our most important clients.’

Karina couldn’t speak for the sudden lump in her throat. Thank you, she thought as she stared at this woman who’d unexpectedly become a good friend. Thank you. Hopefully Becca understood.

The wind blew rain into her face as she headed down High Street towards home. Home, Mickey, the surgery: her life. The life she liked to think she controlled.

‘Mostly…’ she muttered as the rain got worse.

Within minutes her skirt was soaked and her blouse was getting damp down the front. Her jacket hadn’t been designed to be closed across her breasts. Very classy, but totally impractical for her newer, more prosaic lifestyle. She hurried along the footpath, quickly giving up on avoiding the puddles. She’d have jogged all the way, but given she was wearing three-inch narrow heels—all to impress an unimpressionable goat of a banker—she figured that might be a little crazy even for her.

The cooler air did nothing to chill her anger at being refused a loan. She should have asked on what grounds she’d been turned down, but giving Mr Pederson the pleasure of knowing he’d upset her hadn’t been an option. Now she’d have to think of another way to raise the capital. Oh, yeah, like how? Short of selling herself down at the wharf, there weren’t any ideas shining out at her.

Shoving the disappointment and her sense of unfairness down deep, where she kept insurmountable problems, she focused on reaching home as soon as possible. Before lunch she needed to change Jonty’s wound from when he’d fallen in the chook pen and caught his forearm on a stake.

Dear old Grumpy Jones. Secretly, she adored Jonty. Underneath all that griping he was such a sweetheart, and so helpful. Without him she’d never have got the garden dug in time to plant spuds and onions. He’d complained about it with every turn of the soil, but when she’d tried to wrest the spade from him he’d given her an earful.

A gust of wind slammed into her and caught the umbrella, turning it inside out. The heavens poured water onto her carefully styled hair and turned her blouse see-through. So much for trying to look half-decent for once. Of course the bank’s umbrella was rubbish. Went with the miserable manager’s image.

Locking the gate at the bottom of her driveway, she turned for the house and groaned. The hole in the asphalt had overflowed, sending water streaming out to the road. Water, water everywhere …

‘It’s so tempting.’

Despite her angst with the world she felt a flicker of mischief unfurl deep inside, and she raised a grin. Might as well get some fun out of the day and act like the delinquent Mr Pederson believed her to be. This hopelessness needed stomping on—and stuff the shoes. It was doubtful she’d be wearing them again anyway.

Karina breathed deep and leapt into the air to land in the shallow hole. Splashes of murky water shot in every direction, including up her legs. Up, down, splash, splash. She pretended the tears leaking from the corners of her eyes were from pure pleasure, and not exasperation at her inability to fix the current crisis.

‘I want to do that!’ Mickey yelled from the veranda.

‘Come on, then.’

So the sore tummy had recovered. She watched anxiously as he leapt off the steps and charged towards her.

‘Go easy,’ she muttered. She hated that he believed he was invulnerable. But she also acknowledged that his condition mustn’t hold him back.

Splash. Mickey’s round face split wide into a grin. Bending his knees, he bombed his feet into the deepest water he could find. His shrieks filled the air, and soon Karina was laughing hard. To hell with banks and money and everything. This was what life was about: enjoying the little things, and especially having fun with this boy she loved so much.

When Mickey was totally soaked she grabbed his hand and started for the house. ‘Let’s get into dry clothes and then I’ll make us hot chocolate drinks.’

‘Can we?’ Mickey shouted. ‘Really?’

‘I reckon.’ She bounded up the steps and kicked off her shoes. ‘Is Mr Grumpy here or out in the shed?’

‘Inside our place.’

She untied Mickey’s laces and tugged his shoes and socks off. ‘Straight to the bathroom, please. Get out of those clothes while I find you some dry ones.’

‘What about my hot chocolate?’

‘After you’ve changed.’

She ruffled his hair and gently pushed him inside, before banging the door shut behind them. Dropping her sopping bag and the useless umbrella into the bucket in the corner, she spun around to head to her bedroom and pulled up short at the sight of a man walking towards her.

‘Who are you?’ she gasped, though from the way goose-bumps were lifting her skin she already had an inkling. So much for hoping he was weeks away. But, hey, it was that kind of day.

‘Logan Pascale.’ The long and lean, tanned man held a hand out to her. ‘You’re Karina Brown?’ His eyes were very wide, and definitely not focused on her face.

Automatically putting her hand in his, she tried to lock eyes with him, but he was staring at something below her chin. When she followed the direction of his gaze she gasped again. Every last scrap of her clothing was wet, clinging to her like plastic wrap, and her blouse was more see-through than if she’d worn nothing. Her breasts pushed hard against her bra … her very lacy, transparent bra.

Open up, floor, right now. Gobble me up.

When nothing happened she dredged deep for what little pride she could muster. ‘Yes, I’m Karina.’ She lifted her head to study the stranger who held the future of Mickey’s home in the warm, strong hand she was still holding. Snatching her hand free, she stepped back and returned to scrutinising him.

‘Jonty let me in. He’s popped home for a moment.’

Despite the chill settling over her due to all that wetness, warmth eased through her body, touching her tummy, her toes, her face. He might be too lean for her taste, but her body didn’t seem to care if the way it responded when she looked at him was an indicator. His face was gaunt, as if he needed feeding up. But those eyes were what really caught at her. Piercing, yet guarded, while also holding a hint of humour and compassion. A disturbing mix.

Oh, man, this was so wrong. The guy should come with a warning label. Don’t come near unless you hold all the aces. She was short on aces today. Worse, she couldn’t stop staring.

Tall … Okay, anyone was tall compared to her. Oh, and he had the most gorgeous crop of overlong black hair, while his day-old stubble made her mouth water.

‘Karina, I want my clothes!’ Mickey yelled.

‘Coming,’ she called back, far more quietly.

‘I’ll wait for you in the kitchen,’ her distracting visitor told her. ‘Want me to make that hot chocolate I heard you mention?’

‘With marshmallows, ta.’

He was already acting as if he lived here. She shrugged. Get over it. Logan Pascale owned half the place; he could come and go as he pleased. Was that good or bad? That warmth he’d engendered evaporated, leaving her shivering with cold and apprehension as she opened drawers to find Mickey some clothes.

Logan did hold all the aces. He wanted to sell the place she’d made her home and had believed she’d live in for many years to come. He had as much right to make decisions about the property and Mickey’s future as she did. But had he even heard of joint decisions? Her sigh was filled with annoyance and frustration of the most irritating kind. If he thought selling up would help his nephew’s cause then he didn’t know damn all about Mickey.

But of course he didn’t. Visiting briefly once a year meant he hardly knew his nephew. Hadn’t seen the day-to-day growing up stuff, didn’t know what he liked and hated, wouldn’t understand how the Down syndrome affected him.

No doubt Logan intended getting things done fast so he could fly away again, leaving her to cope with the mess he’d created.

Well, think again, Pascale. I’m made of stronger stuff.You won’t get away with it. I’ve grown a backbone because of men like you. Men who charm women out of their three-inch-high shoes all because they have a hidden agenda.




CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_d00d704e-e6bc-5f71-b94c-4ef1a954b23a)


LOGAN DRAGGED HIS eyes forward and headed to the kitchen. His mouth twisted into a tight smile. He might have stopped staring at that bundle of unbridled energy, but her image still seared his brain. Her small body, with those clothes moulded to each and every curve, those enormous eyes the colour of the hot drinks he was about to make blinking out of that elfin face.

From the little he knew about her he understood that she’d walked away from an extremely comfortable life and all that entailed. He certainly hadn’t been expecting to be surprised by her energy for life. When he’d first seen Karina carrying on in the driveway, before Mickey had joined her, he’d thought she was a teenager playing hooky from school, not the qualified nurse taking care of his nephew.

He’d felt a delicious shock when he’d realised those curves certainly didn’t belong to a teenager, but instead to an all-grown-up woman. A very tempting grown-up woman. It wasn’t difficult to imagine running his hands over that body. Damn it. He couldn’t afford to get sidetracked, even for a few hours. He might have been living the life of a monk lately, but that would have to continue at least while he visited Motueka and sorted out Mickey’s future—starting with making arrangements to sell this place.

‘Kar—ina, where are you? I’m ready.’

Did Mickey ever talk in fewer decibels than a jet on take-off?

‘Coming, kiddo.’

At least Karina replied quietly, in a soft, almost caressing tone.

Caressing. As in stroking, touching …

Logan stomped through to the kitchen, where everything appeared spotless. Nothing like what he was used to in the over-used, under-tidied kitchens of Nigeria, where all energy went into helping people rather than putting things away in cupboards only so that someone could remove them again moments later. This was kind of a nice change. Homey.

Whoa. They were going to sell this place. Getting comfortable and cosy wasn’t an option.

He had no difficulty finding chocolate to go into the milk he’d put on to heat. A stack of bars stood right beside the tin of drinking chocolate powder in the pantry, along with packets of marshmallows. He popped a marshmallow in his mouth as he stirred the milk, savouring the sweet burst of flavour on his tongue.

Karina bounced into the small space, using up what little air there was, bumping him with her elbows or hips every time she moved—which was constantly. While those curves were now hidden under trousers and a chambray shirt, he knew they were there. Her hair was damp and curls were beginning to fly, adding to that waif-like appearance.

‘Will you look at that?’ She nodded in the direction of the window. ‘It’s already stopped raining. Put on for my benefit, was it?’ She came closer and peered into the pot. ‘Looking good. Pour Mickey’s before it gets too hot. He doesn’t like waiting for it to cool.’

Trying to ignore the scent of roses and damp hair wafting around her, Logan reached for the mug she held out. ‘Sure. He’s grown heaps since I was last here.’ Concentrate on Mickey and the perfume will eventually evaporate. He hoped.

‘Kids do tend to grow and change quite a bit in a year.’ She placed two more mugs on the bench. ‘I presume you’re joining us in our hot chocolate moment?’

‘Might as well.’

There hadn’t been a hint of sting in her words, and yet the guilt they caused tightened his gut enough to ache. He hadn’t been the best uncle, or brother, over the years. He knew that more than anyone.

‘I would’ve been back nearly two months ago except for an exceptional circumstance.’

Why justify himself to this woman? It was none of her business. Except …

‘I’m sorry you’ve had to shoulder all the responsibility for Mickey since James and Maria died.’ Not to mention the medical centre that had been James’s pride and joy, and had seemed too dull to him.

She shrugged. ‘No worries.’

‘Understatement your thing, is it?’

This house had had more than its share of problems due to lack of maintenance over the years. The lawyers had made sure he knew about every last fault. At least that was something he could, and would, fix. He had an appointment at two o’clock to talk to a real estate agent and get the property on the market. Getting it up to scratch was part of his agenda over the next few weeks.

‘Not that I’m aware.’ Karina opened a tin from the pantry and placed some cookies on a plate. ‘I’m sorry you missed the funeral. We held off as long as possible, but no one could track you down.’

Wow, she had a way of ramping up the guilt without even trying. His gut wanted to regurgitate that marshmallow.

‘There are often days—weeks in the rainy season— when all contact with the outside world is lost.’ He wasn’t going to mention that, where he’d been at that critical time, contact with anyone had been impossible.

A small hand rested on his forearm, orange-tipped fingers splaying lightly on his shirtsleeve. Each fingertip was a heat source, tripping through his chilled body and reminding him of easier times. Carefree times.

She said quietly, ‘I wasn’t having a poke at you. I understand the difficulties. James mentioned how hard it could be to get hold of you in Nigeria.’

If only the reason had been that simple. His eyes locked with hers, saw nothing but genuine sympathy there. Sympathy that should be tightening his shoulders and making him prove he didn’t need it but was instead undermining his determination to remain aloof and do what was needed as quickly as possible before he headed back to a world he understood.

But he didn’t understand it. Not any more. Strange how the easy look in Karina’s eyes made him long for a break, here, in this quiet town where people really were safe. To be able to take each day slowly, get his body back in shape, his head thinking straight, and to get to know his nephew. Time even to get to know Karina Brown.

Jerking his arm away, he snapped, ‘If it had been at all possible to get here I would’ve.’ He drew in a deep breath, tried for calm. ‘But it wasn’t possible.’

If he’d stepped one foot outside his prison hut his body would have been riddled with bullets and he’d have been left to the flies and the vultures.

Hot milk splashed on the bench as he poured the liquid into the mugs.

Karina deftly wiped up the spill before dropping two marshmallows on top of each drink. ‘Mickey, sit up at the table. You can have one cookie before lunch.’

She perched on a chair beside the boy, holding her mug in both hands, her gaze thoughtful. Was she trying to believe he’d been telling the truth?

‘How did you get on at the bank?’ he asked, in an attempt to distract her from his apparent failings as an uncle.

‘How did you know that’s where I was?’ She shifted on her chair, began twisting the mug back and forth between her hands.

‘Jonty mentioned it when I introduced myself.’

‘That surprises me.’ She sighed, then stood up abruptly. ‘I’d better go see if I’m needed before surgery closes for lunch. Keep an eye on Mickey, will you?’

Oh, no, you don’t.

Logan cut off her mad dash by taking her arm and holding on until she turned to look up at him. ‘I’ve been over there. Everything’s under control.’

‘You checked up on my surgery?’

Could those eyes get any bigger? ‘Isn’t it our surgery?’ he asked quietly. ‘I wasn’t checking up on anything. I was introducing myself.’

The air hissed over her bottom lip as she sagged in on herself. Pulling her arm away, she dropped onto the chair she’d hurriedly vacated.

‘Yes, I went to the bank. No, they won’t lend me the money I need to buy you out. Any further questions?’ she snapped.

He lifted out another chair, flicked it around to straddle it, and folded his arms over the top. ‘Why do you want to buy me out? Doesn’t it make sense to sell this rambling old place, with its huge grounds, and buy a new, comfortable, easily kept home?’

‘No. It. Doesn’t.’

The words fell like heavy weights between them.

‘This is Mickey’s home, the place where he remembers his mum and dad. I will not take him away from here. He gets upset enough as it is some days.’

‘I see.’

‘Do you?’ Those perfectly shaped eyebrows lifted. ‘What about the surgery? If we sell the house, where’s that going to be relocated?’

‘I’d have thought that’d be the last thing you’d want to be bothered with. I know you struggle to keep a GP full-time.’

She could have told him what he already knew, that she’d managed with locums so far. But she didn’t. Instead she went for his throat. ‘Unless you have plans to take over?’

Logan stood up so fast the chair knocked against the table. ‘Are you out of your mind?’

Him? Working in a small town, dealing with the everyday stuff of colds and stomach bugs and high blood pressure? Signing on for ever?

‘That would not work. Believe me.’

He strode over to stare out of the window onto the drive, with its hole that needed repairing, and swore silently. Not in a million years. He wanted to be with people who had no choices, who were forever grateful for any little help they got. People who came and went so quickly they didn’t cling to his life.

Mickey banged his empty mug on the table. ‘I want to play with Mr Grumpy.’

Karina didn’t move, almost as though she hadn’t heard Mickey. Even if the neighbours probably had.

Logan turned. ‘Who’s Mr Grumpy?’

‘He teaches me things.’ Mickey slid off the chair and picked up his mug to bang it on the bench. ‘Doesn’t he, Karina?’

‘Yes, he does, sweetheart.’ She stood up. ‘And I should’ve changed Jonty’s dressing before now.’

Definitely looking for an excuse to escape him.

‘Can it wait a few more minutes and I’ll come with you?’ When she looked at him with astonishment, he hastened to add, ‘I take it Jonty and Mr Grumpy are one and the same.’

Karina’s lips twitched. And sent his hormones into a little spasm. She really was seriously distracting.

She told him, ‘Yes.’ And then, turning to Mickey, said, ‘Mr Grumpy should be in the potting shed, planting the tomato seeds. If he’s not you come straight back here and we’ll find him together. Okay?’ She held her hand up, palm out.

Mickey high-fived it. ‘Okey-dokey, hokey-pokey.’

Logan watched his nephew racing from the room and felt his heart stir just a tiny bit. Having Down syndrome wasn’t holding the kid back from enjoying himself.

‘Does he understand fully what happened to his parents?’

Sadness filled Karina’s eyes. ‘As much as a kid his age can. Sometimes he asks when Daddy’s coming home from work, or if Mummy’s going to make his dinner. There are nights when I find him crying into his pillow. But then I’ve found him doing that when he’s lost his favourite toy, so I could be completely wrong and he hasn’t got a clue why he now lives with me.’

‘From what my parents told me, you had a lot to do with him before the accident.’

Not a stranger, like him. Guilt raised its head again. Mickey hadn’t remembered him this morning. No surprise, considering he’d been about three the last time Logan had flown in for a quick visit. Thank goodness James had had the good sense to make Karina joint guardian with him. Even if she wasn’t family in any DNA kind of way, the boy had a firm constant in his life and wasn’t coping with a man who preferred working and living in exotic places. Make that who had used to prefer.

Mickey needed security—he needed the same people in his life day in and day out, to see the same kids at playgroup every time he went. He certainly wouldn’t get that tagging along with his uncle to desolate places on the African continent. Besides, that wasn’t an option after what had happened on his last tour. Far too dangerous.

Karina spoke quietly. ‘I’d been working here for a few months when the accident happened.’ She blinked furiously. ‘Mickey and I were great mates even then.’

‘Coming from Auckland to such a small place must’ve taken some getting used to.’

‘It was refreshing.’ She picked at a spot on the table. ‘Maria and I met in Auckland while doing our nursing training and became firm friends. Inseparable at times.’

She raised those beautiful eyes to his face and the sadness spilling out made him want to wrap her up in his arms and hold her tight.

He didn’t. Because he mightn’t be able to let her go. Because he needed to be held, too. Because he should have been here for Mickey, and even for Karina.

‘You were Maria’s bridesmaid. I vaguely recall a wedding photo.’

‘Hardly a bridesmaid when those two went out to lunch and came back married. They dragged me along, saying they had a surprise.’

‘There was a guy there as well.’

‘The law requires two witnesses.’

The words were flat. Her face had gone blank, her eyes expressionless.

The devil got hold of his tongue. ‘Who was he? I didn’t recognise him as one of James’s friends.’

He’d recently gone weeks without talking to anyone, bar demanding to be freed, and since then he’d apparently lost the ability to be circumspect.

‘My ex-husband.’

Never had he heard so much emotion in two little words. Anger, disappointment, despair, hurt, and a whole lot more. Something beyond his shoulder seemed to fascinate her for a long, drawn-out moment. Then she blinked.

‘We split very suddenly and I wanted a change of environment. Staying on in Auckland no longer worked for me.’ She continued spilling her guts. ‘About that time Maria decided to be a stay-at-home mum and asked me to fill her place at the surgery. I think she made that up, because she’d been managing very nicely until then. But I arrived here within days and I’m not likely to leave again.’

‘Only now you’ve got a wee boy.’

And a big heart. She didn’t appear to be struggling with everything she did, and yet her days had to be close to chaotic at times—especially given that Mickey needed a lot of attention with his condition.

‘A boy I’d do anything for.’

He got the message loud and clear. Don’t mess with Karina. Or Mickey.

‘So what do you do for a social life in Motueka?’ Might as well ask anything that came into his brain while he had her talking.

Karina shrugged. ‘Friday night drinks at a bar on High Street with a friend is more than enough for me. As I’ve no intention of marrying again I’m not joining the dating circuit.’

Unbelievably honest.

‘I can understand that.’

Way too much information, Logan. He knew from the slight widening of her eyes that she’d read between the lines of his simple statement and understood he was as uninterested in finding a soul mate as she was. He’d seen far too many relationships bite the dust in Africa. Commitment to the health organisation left little time for anyone or anything else.

Karina said, ‘You want to sell this place?’

She was forthright. He’d give her that.

‘Yes.’

He’d be the same.

‘Why?’

‘I’ve seen the builder’s report the lawyers have had done. This place needs major repairs and maintenance, which won’t come cheap—especially for a property nearly eighty years old. A comfortable house with no financial worries for you seems a good idea. Though what you’d do for jumping puddles I’m not sure,’ he added, forcing a smile.

A smile that she chose to ignore as she stood up, stretching as tall as possible on her toes, which still left her well short of his chin. ‘Haven’t you left something out?’

‘Like what?’

Those eyes that had entranced him now appeared to be ready to slice him to shreds. He was about to get an earful. Her cheeks were reddening, her mouth tightening.

‘The bit where you will then be free to fly off into the sunset, knowing there’s nothing here for you to worry yourself over. Your nephew will be well cared for, and he won’t miss out on a thing because there won’t be any repairs to pay for. You’ll have done your bit for your family.’

His family? Yes, she certainly knew how to twist the knife. As he opened his mouth to explain that his nephew was better off being with her, she cut him off and added to his distress.

‘I will never sign any sale agreement you draw up. Never. Get it?’

Her forefinger stabbed his chest—hard. Strange how he wanted to wrap his hand around that finger and kiss the tip.

She hadn’t finished. ‘This is Mickey’s home until the day he doesn’t need one any more.’

She couldn’t have put it more bluntly than that. Yet he sensed a well of emotion and need behind her statement. What for, or why, he had yet to figure out. He’d also have to work harder on persuading her that his way was best for all of them. And the reasons she believed were not necessarily behind his thinking. Though she wasn’t entirely wrong about those either.




CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_e4907f9c-c9ce-534c-9a7b-10843cbb88da)


OF ALL THE stubborn, thoughtless, selfish men in the world, Logan Pascale had to be top of the pile. Karina bit down on the words threatening to spill off her tongue and headed out to the shed to find Jonty. The stubborn, thoughtless, selfish man followed her.

‘I need to replace that dressing for you,’ she informed the older man down on his knees trying to unscrew the broken handle of a spade. She’d do her best to ignore Logan for now.

‘They don’t make these handles like they used to,’ Jonty grunted.

Beside the old man Mickey sat on his butt in spilled potting mix. ‘I’m helping Mr Grumpy.’ He reverently held a pair of pliers in his hands.

Jonty didn’t look up as he said, ‘I don’t need the dressing changed. There’s nothing wrong with this one.’

The bolt suddenly flicked free and spun across the floor.

Mickey crawled after it. ‘I got it.’

Karina squatted beside Jonty. ‘You don’t want to get an infection.’

‘Pish. I’m healthy. No infection’s coming near me.’ The second bolt was giving him as much trouble as the first.

Logan hunkered down on his haunches opposite them. ‘How’d this break?’

Go away and leave us be. Her teeth snapped shut, sending vibrations through her skull.

‘Damned rocks,’ Jonty griped.

Karina wasn’t giving in. ‘Let me see that arm, please.’

The old man glanced at Logan. ‘Women, eh? Bossy creatures—think they know best.’

Logan laughed: a warm sound that briefly lifted her black mood.

Then he won points by saying to Jonty, ‘I know what you mean, but in this instance I think Karina’s right. An infection in your arm could be debilitating for some time. You might have to delay finishing that digging.’

Jonty’s knuckles were white as he tried to budge the bolt. ‘I guess.’

‘Here. Can I get that?’ Logan asked in an offhand manner that made it easy for Jonty to accept his offer.

‘You do that while Miss Bossy, here, does her nurse routine.’

Smothering a smile, Karina removed the dressing and cleaned Jonty’s wound. It would have been better doing it inside, but Jonty would never agree. ‘It’s looking good. You were very lucky not to have that spike go any deeper.’

‘I got two dozen eggs this morning,’ he muttered.

Good, there’d be some spare to trade for fresh bread at the bakehouse down the road. ‘They’re laying well, considering it’s winter.’

‘There you go.’ Logan handed back the screwdriver and a few screws.

‘You look like your brother.’ Mr Grumpy squeezed Logan’s shoulder. ‘Sorry about James, lad. We miss him and Maria around here.’

Weren’t men supposed to be reticent? Mr Grumpy had said more words in the last ten minutes than he often uttered in a whole day.

Karina taped on the new dressing and gathered up the old one. ‘There you go.’

‘Thanks, lass.’

‘Is Mickey okay with you until I’ve got lunch ready?’

Jonty rolled his eyes and took the spade minus its handle back from Logan.

‘That’s a yes, then.’

She thought Logan would remain in the shed, but he was quickly on his feet to go with her.

The problem with walking towards the house after having heard Logan mention maintenance was that she looked hard at the weatherboard walls and window frames. The paint was peeling in places, and some of the boards did show signs of rot. The putty around the glass panes had cracked and in places had fallen out completely.

‘Yeah, it does need an overhaul,’ she admitted grudgingly under her breath.

The guy had supersensitive hearing. ‘A major undertaking, involving a lot of time and effort to restore the whole building.’

She spun around, skidding on the sodden grass. His hand quickly caught her arm, steadied her, then instantly dropped away.

Rubbing the place where those strong fingers had gripped, she raised her head and told him, ‘Think about how wonderful this old building could look with a new coat of paint and those windows picked out in a shade of green to fit in with the grounds.’

The large grounds in which the lawns were mowed once a month, whether they needed it or not, summer and winter. And in which the trees should have been pruned and the wayward hedge needed cutting off at the roots.

Logan’s eyebrows were in danger of disappearing under that mop of dark hair. His flat mouth quirked up into an annoying smile. ‘You have a wonderful imagination.’

‘What are your plans? Are you in town for long?’

‘As long as it takes to make you see reason and get this place on the market.’

He didn’t half labour the point. The breath she dragged in chilled her bottom teeth. ‘Then you’ll be here a long time.’

Could she ask him to leave his half of the money in the property as a loan to her? No, she couldn’t. She’d only just met him, but she was over his incredulous glances already.

‘I’ll buy a lotto ticket tomorrow.’

‘Why not go easy on yourself and accept that selling is the right thing to do?’

Logan held open the back door and indicated she should go ahead of him. Heading directly to the bathroom, she dropped the small bag containing Jonty’s old dressing into the bin. Her head spun with retorts but she managed to keep the brakes on her tongue. He didn’t—and wouldn’t—have a clue how important a refuge this house was to her. Here, she was in charge and her opinion counted. Here, her family and her ex didn’t tell her what to do with her days.

Back in the kitchen, she got out the bread and margarine, some hardboiled eggs and lettuce, and began making sandwiches. The clock didn’t stop for Logan. She needed to get back to work.

When he parked his butt on the corner of the table, looking as if he had no intention of moving until he got his point across, she knew a moment of fear. What if he won this crazy battle and the house was sold out from under her? Would it be so bad to live in another house in Motueka? Yes, it would. Jonty wouldn’t be next door, griping and grumbling at her while he watered her vegetables, or complaining that he hated boiled carrots more than tinned peas and yet eating every last mouthful on his plate whenever she cooked his dinner—which was most nights else he’d starve. He’d never learned to cook; his late wife had been old-school and believed that was her role.

Another argument against Logan’s plan to sell was that the medical centre would have to shift. Or, worse, close down, forcing the patients she’d come to know to transfer to other centres.

Surreptitiously studying this stranger as she spread margarine, it shocked her to realise that he looked as though he belonged here. He had every right to be here. No denying that, much as she wanted to. But looking as if he fitted right in—that was too much to absorb. So she wouldn’t. She’d carry on the fight in the hope that eventually she’d get it through his very handsome skull that she meant every word she uttered.

Starting with: ‘You honestly think I should walk away from this?’ She waved her hand in the direction of the surgery through the wall. ‘Tell all the patients, “Sorry, but we’re not interested in looking out for you any more”? People don’t like change, Logan.’

‘Are you sure it’s not you that dislikes change?’

This man went straight for the heart of the matter every time.

She pretended she hadn’t heard him. ‘Especially the older folk. They know their doctor and nurse, and they trust them to know their backgrounds without having to delve into files for an answer about who their son is or where their grandchildren live. That sort of thing distresses them.’

‘Except the current locum’s only been here three months and plans on leaving within the next three. Where’s the continuity in that?’

He didn’t miss a trick, which sucked big-time.

‘I won’t change my mind.’ Her voice was rising and she didn’t care. This man riled her.

‘I’m getting the picture.’ He folded his arms over his chest, the movement diverting her gaze from his inscrutable face to those muscles that underscored the polo-necked jersey he wore.

‘So am I,’ she muttered, not quite sure whether she was referring to his stubbornness or his mouth-watering chest.

Either of them was a problem. Logan was nothing like his brother in physical shape or appearance. James had been of average height and had carried a bit more weight than was healthy. But he’d had an open face and oodles of kindness and generosity. She wasn’t sure where Logan was with those characteristics.

‘Where are you staying while you’re in Motueka?’

‘Here. That’s if you don’t kick me out on the street. I like the spare room at the back of the house.’

Wanting to say no to that idea didn’t mean she could.

‘There’s no space to swing a cat in there.’ It was tiny and filled with cartons that needed to be gone through. ‘It’s also an ice box, being so far from the fire in the lounge and the heat pump in the hall.’

But she knew nothing about this man.

‘It will suit me perfectly.’

‘What’s wrong with the room next to Mickey’s? It’s bigger and warmer.’

Why make him comfortable? If he didn’t like the room he might leave earlier than planned.

‘I figure I’ll be out of your hair down there.’ His eyes zeroed in on the sandwich she was making. Avoiding eye contact? ‘I noticed all the cartons. I’ll shift them into the other bedroom after lunch.’

‘They’re full of James and Maria’s personal belongings. I haven’t had the gumption to go through them. Anyway, I thought you should be the one to deal with James’s stuff.’

And I’ll keep putting off sorting through Maria’s until finally I can do it without instantly bursting into tears. If only I could throw everything away untouched.

‘I probably should.’ Logan sounded equally reluctant to tackle that issue. Which she couldn’t fault.

‘I’ll try to get around to it before I head away again.’

Since Logan seemed intent on steamrollering her opposition to selling they’d be at loggerheads the whole time and he’d probably be glad to leave sooner rather than later. Behind her back she crossed her fingers.

‘The wardrobe’s locked. It’s the only way to keep the door from bursting open and spilling files and books across the room.’ She tried one last time. ‘You sure you don’t want the other room?’

Those smoky grey eyes roamed the kitchen before returning to her. ‘The small one’s fine. Better than some places I’ve been lately.’ He sucked a quick breath on that.

‘I’ll find some linen.’

‘Karina, I don’t expect you to run around after me. I’ll make my own bed.’

‘What do you expect of me, then?’

‘To seriously consider my proposal to sell. In fact, you might as well come with me to see the real estate salesperson.’

‘I what?’ The knife slid out of her fingers and clattered onto the floor. ‘Haven’t you listened to anything I’ve said?’

‘Have you listened to me?’ he asked, in a cool, calm tone.

What would rattle this man? Except for those moments when his eyes had looked everywhere except at her he’d remained in control, no matter what she’d said. Which was warning enough. She knew controlled and controlling men better than most.

‘I’ve heard every single crazy idea you’ve come up with so far!’ she yelled.

Get a grip. This is not the way to deal with him. Think about Mickey. That’s it. Sweet little man that he is, he needs you to bat for him, but sensibly, not like a shrew.

She tried to rein in her anger. ‘Maybe it would be better if you stayed in the motel down the road.’ It didn’t come out quite as calmly as she’d hoped, but it was an improvement.

Logan remained perched on the edge of the table, totally unperturbed at her outburst. ‘I want to have as much time as possible with Mickey before I head away again.’

She pounced. ‘And when might that be?’ Now she was repeating herself.

‘Probably not as soon as you’d like.’

Did his lips twitch? She’d swear they had, which was kind of deflating. If she wanted to be treated fairly then she had to do likewise.

‘I’m making one rule. We don’t talk about selling while you’re staying in this house.’

‘Karina, apart from seeing Mickey and sorting out some legal stuff with the lawyers over James and Maria’s wills, the only purpose of my visit is to sell. See it from my point of view. I can’t do a thing to help you around the house when I’m overseas. If you’re living in a new home I won’t have to worry about that.’

‘I see.’

He sounded too darned reasonable. Didn’t mean she was prepared to change her mind, though. Was she being selfish? Not at all. For her, this wasn’t about repairs and maintenance—it was about having a home. Not a house; a home. She’d had houses, mansions, and she knew how cold and impersonal they could be. She’d come to Motueka to turn around her life and find out what she really wanted for herself, and she had created a little world right here that would suit her for years to come. The thought that Logan wanted to take that away frightened her.

‘I don’t want you worrying about me. I’m not your concern. Only Mickey is.’

‘The way I see it, if you’re happy then so is my nephew.’

‘Then you’ve nothing to worry about. I’m happy living right here.’

Her tummy tightened. Huh? It’s true. I am. Aren’t I? I was until this morning. And I will be again, the moment Logan understands he’s wrong about this.

‘And if you’re really worried about the medical centre and the house, why don’t you move here permanently? You could share in making Mickey happy. He’d love to have you around the place.’

Logan didn’t bat an eyelid, didn’t have a fit as he had earlier when she’d suggested the same thing. ‘Give me some time to catch up on what happened with James, and get to know Mickey properly, and I’ll postpone that appointment with the agent.’

‘You’re bribing me now?’ She found a small smile for him. ‘Stay one month and I’ll listen to you at the end of that. I’m not saying I’ll go along with your plans, but we’ll discuss them then.’

And I’ll spend that whole month showing you why you’re wrong. I’ll also be busy finding the funds to buy you out.

‘Fine.’

Another twitch of those lips. Had he read her mind as easily as that?

Leaning back against the bench, Karina fought the need to study him while he stared at his feet. The expression on his lean face was sad and worried, as if he didn’t know where to go with any of this after all. Well, blow me over, rover. This guy has some serious issues.

Folding her arms under her breasts, she tried to deny the compassion building up for him. She couldn’t let it rule her head. Instead she needed to focus on what was best for Mickey. And then for her.

One thing was for sure: Logan Pascale would not be good for her. At all. Yes, but he would be great for one little boy who struggled to understand why his mum and dad didn’t walk in through the door at the end of the day as they’d used to.

Logan wanted to laugh, which was a surprise in itself. Karina was as transparent as clear water. He knew he was going to be hounded over the coming weeks. He should go and book into a motel immediately. But he’d play the game. He’d only been in this house a couple of hours and already he didn’t want to leave. The building was old and draughty, the windows rattled when the wind gusted, there was a bucket in the laundry, catching drips, and the carpets were threadbare. But, as Karina had said, it was a home—not just a house with two people rattling around in the vast spaces.

‘Lunch is ready.’ Karina pushed a plate laden with sandwiches across the bench towards him.

‘Want me to get Mickey?’

She nodded. ‘And Jonty.’

‘Why am I not surprised?’

Filling the kettle, she shook her head at him, those curls flying around her face and causing his gut to clench.

‘He looks after my gardens and hens and I give him some meals. Green dollars.’

‘Yeah, sure. Nothing to do with a kind heart or friendship?’ He couldn’t resist winking as he stood up, ready to stride out of the kitchen.

What a woman. Too darned diverting for his own good. Mickey and his eager smiles had already caught at him, so throw in Karina with her exuberant, even fiery spirit and he was knocked off his feet. He hadn’t experienced anything so normal in a long time. He didn’t want to now.

In Africa he knew his role—understood that there were no long-term connections with his patients, the women he worked with, the places he lived and worked in. He was there simply to help people less fortunate than him who needed his medical skills. Plain and simple.

Apparently others had thought he could also provide a source of money for their militant operations. Their illegal activities. The militants had got the wrong end of things when they’d kidnapped him, believing he was the son of a wealthy English lord. That lucky guy had been whisked away to safety the moment the CEO of the African Health Organisation had realised what was going on.

No wonder this place felt like a slice of heaven with its everyday normality.

Logan knew he was being a pain in the proverbial by choosing a room that Karina obviously preferred him not to have, but it suited him perfectly. He might have explained that after sharing cramped quarters with his colleagues for as long as he had he relished the idea of having space to himself. What he wouldn’t tell her was that he had to have privacy at night.

Sweat popped on his brow. Karina was right in that he should find a motel, only not for the reasons she’d been espousing. One night here and she’d be kicking him out anyway. Not to mention the awkward questions she’d be asking if he had his usual problems.

He focused on the mundane, hoping the other, darker thoughts bothering him would fade for a while.

Instead of going to get Mickey to come for lunch, he said, ‘I was under the impression Mickey went to kindergarten all day?’

‘He usually does, but a sore tummy kept him at home this morning.’ Karina lifted one shoulder. ‘After that puddle-jumping I’d say he’s fit to go this afternoon.’

‘Want me to drop him off?’

‘Sure.’

‘What time do you finish work?’ he asked when he returned with Mickey and Jonty in tow.

‘Five-thirty, give or take.’

‘Then you come home to cook dinner?’

Karina nodded and smiled. That smile pushed the darkness inside him further back.

‘I hope you’re happy with risotto?’

‘Sounds good to me.’

‘Mickey usually gets dropped off at the surgery about four. If you want to spend time with him you can collect him then.’

Her smile expanded, sending a flood of heat right down to the tips of his toes, heating all parts of his body on the way.

‘He’d love that. You’re family, Uncle Logan.’

His head dipped up and down in agreement as he swallowed the crazy need for her she’d inadvertently cranked up all too easily even while she’d been so ruthless in her comments about what he wanted to do to her haven. Again, Karina hadn’t held back on pressuring him, but he was getting used to her forthrightness. If he used it wisely it could save them both a lot of the trouble that ducking and diving around their problems would cause.

‘Mickey mightn’t understand, but I’m right beside him all the way.’ His mouth lifted into a small smile. A rare occurrence recently. ‘But you have a point. I’m not used to small boys.’

‘I’d have thought many of your patients would be small boys. Boys of any size and age, really.’

‘I used to kick a football around in the dust with plenty of young lads, but somehow getting to know Mickey seems daunting.’

Terrifying, even. There wouldn’t be any second chances. He had to get everything right from the get-go. There was a lot riding on that—things like Mickey living a happy childhood despite losing his parents.

Karina laughed, and it was as though the sun were in the room with them. Her face had that cheeky, fun quality she did so well. That wild hair was a riot of curls now that it had dried. What would it feel like to run his fingers through those coils? To feel them spring against the palms of his hands?

‘Right,’ she said. ‘That’s you sorted. Unless you’d prefer Mickey gives kindergarten a miss and stays with you?’

‘What do four-year-olds like to do with their afternoons?’ Damn, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

‘Believe me, Mickey will order you around and run you ragged.’

Did she have to look so pleased?

Unfortunately Karina’s smug look had turned out to be justified. Logan grimaced as he sidestepped another spray of muddy water Mickey sent his way. What was it with small boys and puddles? The rain might have stopped hours ago, but the water swamping the lawns hadn’t drained away and didn’t look as if it would any time soon. Another problem that needed looking into. Like that hole in the driveway, which definitely had to be sorted.

‘I want to see Karina.’ Mickey stood before him, staring up with those eyes that reminded him so much of James.

James. His older brother. Logan’s heart squeezed tight. They hadn’t been close, but they’d always known the other was there if needed. Hence the guardianship thing. He’d been touched when James had asked him, yet he’d thought he should have asked Mum and Dad. Apparently they’d believed Mickey needed younger guardians. They also hadn’t been comfortable at the prospect of living on remote Stewart Island with Mickey.

If he ever needed urgent medical attention, getting off the island wasn’t as simple as getting on board a boat and starting the engine. Weather ruled down there. It was a place his parents had fallen in love with, and they’d moved there the moment he’d finished school. It wasn’t a place he’d ever thought of as home.

Logan sure as hell hadn’t expected to take up the role of guardian so soon, if ever. It was only supposed to be insurance—the kind you took out but never used. If he’d known what would happen only weeks later he’d have told James to find someone better suited. Not that his brother would have listened.

A small hand wrapped around his fingers. ‘Karina’s at work.’

‘Yeah, buddy, I know. So we’ll have to wait to see her.’

Mickey shook his head. ‘No. I want to see her now. I need to go pee-pee.’

‘I’ll take you inside.’

Mickey’s head turned from side to side. ‘No. Got to go to work.’ He began tugging at Logan’s hand. ‘Come on.’

A cheerful-looking man glanced up from the counter as they walked in the front door of the medical centre. ‘Hi, Mickey. Sounds like you’ve been having fun.’ Then his gaze swooped to Logan. ‘You must be Logan. I’m David Maxwell, the current locum. Sorry I missed you earlier.’

‘Hey, good to meet you. I never had any intention of dragging you from your patients when I dropped by. I was just eyeing the set-up.’ Logan held out his hand. ‘This little guy wants the bathroom. Apparently you’ve got a better one than what’s at home.’

David chuckled. ‘What we’ve got is Karina.’

So Mickey and Karina had bonded completely. That was good for the little fellow. He was very lovable. Even after a few hours Logan knew leaving him again wouldn’t be as easy as he’d expected.

‘How does he cope when he’s at kindergarten?’

Karina answered from another room. ‘There are good days and there are not-so-good ones. His teacher’s quite strict, but sometimes I go and get him and then he sits in here with me and his colouring-in book.’

‘I need pee-pee, Karina!’ the subject of their conversation yelled.

In the waiting area people laughed.

David grinned. ‘You’d better hurry, Karina. It’s looking a bit urgent out here.’

She appeared in an instant. ‘Come on, Mickey.’ Then over her shoulder she muttered to Logan in a very cheeky tone, ‘Think you dodged a bullet?’

He shuddered. Karina’s bullets would be comparatively harmless compared to the real thing. ‘Apparently you’re a dab hand at this.’

‘You’ll keep.’ She flapped a hand at him before following Mickey down the hall.

‘Keep?’ David asked in a hopeful tone. ‘You’re not looking to hang around permanently, by any chance?’

Hating to disappoint another person already, he shrugged, but finally had to be honest. ‘No, my contract’s still running with the organisation I work for.’

‘Motueka isn’t just a quiet town in the back of beyond. There’s always lots going on.’

That hope was fading.

‘After the places I’ve been, it’s fair heaving. If I ever did come back permanently I think I’d prefer living and working in a place like this. Big cities don’t hold any attraction for me.’

If he ever came back? Why would he? What was here for him?

A little boy who had yet to call him Uncle? A boy who needed a man in his life?

A feminine laugh floated down the hall from the direction in which Karina had disappeared. Okay, there might be another attraction, but he couldn’t change his life plan for a woman.

‘Life plan? More of a total stuff-up.’

‘Sorry?’

He’d forgotten David was still standing there, looking hopeful and resigned all at once. ‘Talking to myself. Not a good look.’

‘I guess you’ve got a lot to sort out at the moment, without me dumping the surgery problems on your shoulders. We can have a chat in a few days.’ Then he looked worried. ‘You will be here for a while, right?’

‘Right.’

Exactly how long was ‘a while’? This was another round of questions he wasn’t dealing with very well. Harmless enquiries and yet they ratcheted up the tightness in his arm muscles, in his chest.

Glancing around, he saw people in the office, the waiting room, the hall: all innocent of anything but normality. Normality he struggled to fit into. By the toy box in the waiting room a toddler lunged for a wooden truck and shrieked at the top of his lungs.

Logan knew that the ear-piercing, gut-tearing sound came from the little boy. Knew it. But somewhere in his head he was hearing one of his fellow hostages as she was beaten, screaming her fear and rage and pain.

That same fear, rage and pain thumped at his temples.

Suddenly he was so tired he could barely stay upright. Exhaustion gripped him, drained his body of every drop of energy. Exhaustion that sleep would not fix. Only exercise might.

It was happening again. He couldn’t blame jet lag. That might be compounding the debilitated state he found himself in, but it wasn’t the cause. That remained back in Africa. In the form of dangerous men armed with machine guns and the inability to listen to reason. Men who thought the quickest way to riches was holding innocent people to ransom.

‘Are you all right?’

David was staring at him with that same wary look he’d seen in his colleagues’ eyes all too often since he’d been freed.

‘I’m fine.’ His voice rasped with tension. ‘I need some fresh air. Tell Karina I’ve gone for a walk, will you?’

Tell her I’m sorry I’m leaving Mickey with her while she has to work. Tell her I apologise for coming here before I’d managed to quash the demons lurking in my skull.

He ran for the door.




CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_2d61e915-58d2-507a-9c25-c43a3cf257fe)


KARINA ROLLED OVER in bed and held her breath. Something had woken her. But what? The house creaked as usual, but otherwise everything seemed quiet. She must have been imagining things. Punching her pillow into shape, she curled up on her side and closed her eyes.

There it was again. A low moan—followed by a cry.

Slipping out from under the warm bedcovers, she shoved her feet into slippers and pushed her arms into her thick robe. Out in the hallway she listened for a minute but heard nothing. Had Mickey called out? Carefully opening his door, she checked him over but he was sound asleep.

Karina returned to her room as a cry cut through the quiet, lifting the hairs on her neck. It came from further down the hall. Logan? Had he fallen and hurt himself?

Outside his door, she hesitated. If the noise hadn’t come from in there, she’d look a right idiot, bursting in and waking him. Leaning her ear to the door, she heard mutterings from the other side. It sounded as though the man talked in his sleep. She smiled. Who knew what she might learn if she felt inclined to listen in? Straightening up, she began to turn away. There was still that noise to check out.

‘Don’t touch me, you pig!’ Logan shouted.

At least she presumed it was Logan, even though his voice was pitched higher than usual and filled with hate. Was that fear in those words? It sounded as if he needed help. What if someone else was in the room, attacking him?

Flinging the door wide, she flicked the light on and stared around the room. Nobody but Logan. He lay sprawled across the bed, the sheets wound around his legs, his arms thrashing against the mattress at either side of his hips. His skin glistened with sweat, and yet he was shivering. His eyes were wide, staring at the ceiling, then at her, then cruising the walls. Back to her. Not seeing her or seeing anything. As though he didn’t know where he was.

‘Who are you? Get out of my hut.’

Oh, my God, he’s having a nightmare.

Wary of those flailing arms, she reached to touch his shoulder. ‘Logan. Wake up. Logan. You’re having a bad dream.’

She shook him gently. His arm swung up and out. Karina stepped back, felt his fist graze her thigh. This time she snatched at his arm, held it tight against her body, shook him as gently as possible.

‘Logan. Wake up. It’s Karina. You’re in Motueka. You are safe.’

Was this the right thing to do? Should she be trying to bring him round more slowly? But how?

‘Did you say Karina?’ Logan blinked at her. Then looked around the room, tried to peer past her. ‘Where did you say I am?’

‘You’re at James’s home. Remember? Where Mickey lives.’

In her tight grip his arm began relaxing, the tension slowly ebbing away as reality dawned in those gunmetal-grey eyes.

He said nothing, continued to stare at her, not quite believing her.

‘Motueka. Mickey, Karina.’ She enunciated slowly, clearly, hoping the significance of those words would reach him.

Did this have anything to do with his sudden mood change that afternoon? David had told her Logan had become agitated and taken off for a fast walk. When she’d asked him about it later he’d fobbed her off with some nonsense about needing fresh air. As if the air in the back yard where he’d been playing with Mickey had been stale and old?

Lowering his arm to his side, she spoke quietly, so as not to disturb him unduly. ‘Logan, I’m going to cover you with the quilt. It’s freezing in here and you’ve got goose-bumps on your arms.’

He also had scars on his chest and his ribs were too close to the surface. Not enough muscle or fat covered him. As if he’d been ill. What had the nightmare been about? Was it linked to the state of his body? What would he do if she gave in to the need to hug him to her? To kiss away that pain darkening his eyes to the colour of cold slate? If she ran her fingertips over those purple lines on his skin, would he yell at her?




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