by Bowes, K T
“Do you?” he sobbed and felt Hana nod against the back of his head.
“Yeah, Caleb, I do. I know how it feels to be fatherless and so does Logan.”
“Please talk to him for me?” he begged. The teenager sat up, his face soaked and the skin tight and flushed. “Please, Hana?”
She smiled and shook her head. “I can’t, Caleb. But you can. It’s between you and my husband; I have to stay out of it. Sorry.” Hana’s features appeared wooden and fixed in place. Bobby told her he loved her and she wouldn’t let it damage her marriage again.
“How do you know the Du Roses didn’t bury him?” Caleb asked, punctuating his sentence with a disgusting sniff.
“I told you; your father wrote me a letter. It arrived in the mail after he left.” Hana disconnected and stood, wanting the conversation over. “Logan heard recently that he got a new girlfriend. He’ll be back soon; you can ask him then.” She stared through the window, her expression distant.
Caleb raised his hand as Hana turned to leave the room. “Can I read the letter? Please?”
She swallowed and avoided his eyes. “No. I destroyed it.” Her brow narrowed and she fixed a determined look on her face. Hana felt the suspicion in Caleb’s glare as he watched her. “I’m tired. I need to go to bed.”
Hana mobilised herself and headed to bed after checking on her sleeping children. Something felt wrong and she couldn’t put her finger on it. Sickness flooded her senses and she checked on Mac four times more before she could settle. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into the silent room. “I’m sorry if your deafness is my fault.” Her chest hitched as thoughts of Flick strayed inevitably to the last time she saw him, helping her load the gun and telling her to fire at the next face which appeared in the doorway. She lay in the cold bed and craved her husband, needing Caleb out of her house with a desperation which frightened her.
Chapter 29
The Truth Hurts
“What did Pete want?” Hana dropped her book onto the bed and sat up, fluffing pillows behind her for support.
“I wasn’t long.” Logan stripped his tee shirt over his head and shivered in the cold. “Just an hour.”
“I know; I need a cuddle.” Hana pouted and watched Logan unzip his jeans and drop them to his ankles. Muscular legs stepped out of them and his thighs tensed as he bent to retrieve them and folded the fabric with precision, laying them over the bedroom chair in the corner.
“It’s freezing!” he exclaimed. “Bloody hell!” He disappeared beside the bed and Hana leaned over to see where he’d gone. She watched his head bob up and down as he performed twenty press-ups on bunched biceps before slipping beneath the covers. “That’s warmed me up.” He sighed. “Come here, baby. I’ve a promise to keep.”
Hana snuggled into his armpit and sniffed his distinctive scent; mountain air and sunshine. “What did Pete want?”
Logan snorted. “Henrietta bought this trampoline to exercise on and he saw a thing on the TV which literally wobbles the fat out of you. It’s a load of crap but he thought it might work. Instead of buying a real device, he nicked some crocodile clips from the physics laboratory and wired it to the metal on the trampoline.”
“You’re kidding!” Hana gasped in horror. “He’ll kill her.”
“Yeah, that’s what I told him. I’ve confiscated the crocodile clips.”
“Far out!” Hana buried her face in Logan’s side and imagined an electrified Henrietta bouncing her buxom self on a wired trampoline. “Doesn’t he want to stay married to her anymore?” She heard the smile in Logan’s voice.
“Nah, he’s just a cheapskate. He wanted me to help him wedge the clips onto the frame because they wouldn’t open wide enough.”
“That guy’s scary,” Hana sighed. “He wore the same clothes for nine years and only washed them in the holidays. I don’t think he ever cleaned his jacket.”
“He did when I moved into the flat; I dragged it from his wriggling body every Friday night!” Logan turned on his side and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. The hair on his chest tickled her nose and she relaxed, shrouded in safety.
“Logan, I need to talk to you.” Her voice sounded plaintive in the darkness and she heard her husband sigh. He covered her lips with his and smothered them in softness as he strengthened the kiss. Tender fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her pyjamas and tugged. Hana moaned and then remembered her dilemma. “Logan,” she began and he silenced her with another long kiss. He spoke against her mouth, reluctant to break their connection.
“I rushed home to keep my promise,” he whispered. “I’ll listen to you later but right now, kōtiro, I just wanna show you how much I love you.” He nipped at the soft skin beneath Hana’s jaw and she exhaled in a rush. Easing the ugly flannelette pants over her rounded buttocks, Logan groaned with pleasure at the action of her wandering hands and his breath felt warm on her cool cheeks.
“I love you, Logan.” Hana allowed him to pull her on top of him, her pants legs trailing across the bed and tangling their ankles together like a noose. His boxer shorts felt rough against the tender skin of her stomach and she wiggled against them.
Logan bit his lower lip and his long lashes swished closed. “You have no idea,” he whispered. His hand moved behind Hana’s head and forced her lips over his while the other hand made light work of her pyjama shirt. The temperature between them hiked and Hana forgot the biting air which seeped around the joints of the old window frames as she lost herself in Logan’s warm attentions. She placed her palm over his mouth as his enthusiasm produced more than a decent level of noise. “Stop!” she hissed. “Leslie and Caleb will hear us from opposite ends of the house.”
He laughed at her when she cried out with pleasure, nibbling the soft skin of her neck. Logan honoured his promise, leaving Hana breathless and forced to kick off the covers. When his fingers brushed along the curve of her breast, she giggled and pushed his hand away. “No, you’ve paid in full,” she protested, dodging the questing hand. “You’ve worn me out.”
“Lightweight!” Logan scoffed. “Call yerself a Du Rose; you’ve no stamina, wahine.”
“You’re probably right.” Hana rolled onto her side facing his outline in the darkness and reached out to touch his firm chest. “I still need to talk to you.”
“No, not talking; more kissing,” he grumbled and Hana swallowed and steeled herself for the awkward conversation.
“We promised no more secrets and I need to tell you something.”
Logan exhaled into the darkness and turned to face her, snagging the sheet in his fingers and hauling it over both of them. “Okay. Hit me with it,” he breathed and Hana felt his body tense on the mattress.
Hana’s words emerged as stilted and afraid; making her admission in the confessional of the borrowed marriage bed. “I think I know what’s rattled Leslie,” she said, inhaling and holding the breath as Logan made no sound. “Nev used Asher to run errands to Alfred, despite you saying he wasn’t allowed on the property.”
“Did he damage anything?” Logan asked and Hana flushed in the darkness; a child telling tales out of school.
“I don’t think so.”
She heard Logan’s hair swish against the pillow. “I’ll let it go this time. It’s not worth the cost of their marriage. I’ll make sure Leslie knows that, although it seems a bit extreme doesn’t it?”
“That’s not all.” Hana swallowed. “I found out tonight who Caleb’s father is.”
“What?” Logan faced her and she sensed his confusion. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“It’s why he’s here.” Hana pushed herself to a sitting position and hugged her knees. “He heard his dad worked for you and tracked him to the hotel. He stayed in the camp ground until his money ran out and then slept rough in the hut.”
“Worked for me?” Logan repeated the words, his brain running through possibilities. “Is he a Du Rose?”
“No.” Hana gulped and released the damagi
ng words. “He’s Flick’s son.”
“What?” Logan sat up using his stomach muscles and turned to face her. Leaning across he gripped her wrist. “Promise me you didn’t know!”
“I didn’t.” Hana fixed the fingers of her other hand over Logan’s, attempting to loosen his grasp. “Bobby doesn’t know about him; it’s okay, he’s not one of the two sons from Hamilton. Caleb only found out a few months ago and he’s been looking for him ever since.”
“Bloody hell!” Logan dropped Hana’s wrist as though she might contaminate him and spun from the bed naked.
“Where are you going?” She slipped into the freezing cold air and blocked the doorway, arms outstretched either side of her.
“I’m throwing him out!” Logan snarled through gritted teeth. “I should’ve known. There were a couple of times when I saw something in his face and felt like I knew him. I don’t want Flick’s kid here, Hana, not near you or my children.” He punched his balled fist into his other palm.
“He’s done nothing wrong,” she protested, hugging her cold body. “Apart from looking for his father.”
Logan stood in front of her, tall and imposing. His might dwarfed her and Hana felt a shiver of fear. “We promised no more secrets,” she grumbled. “I’ve told you the truth and this is how you react; like I’m the bad guy?” Her hands gave into gravity and slapped her thighs in defeat. “Great! Thanks Logan. You’ve really restored my faith in honesty and confession. It’s been such an amazing experience.” She stepped out of his way and slunk back to the bed, still warm from their passion. “Go for it, Logan. Throw him out. Wake the children and scare them with the inevitable shouting and the sight of someone they respect throwing an injured man onto the street.” Hana covered herself with the sheet. “You never know; your new boss might promote you for your kindness to humanity.” She lay down and turned her back on her seething husband. “You might want to cover up before you go startling everyone.”
Hana jumped as the bed moved behind her and Logan’s body slipped beneath the covers. He shifted her hair aside and kissed a line down the back of her neck. She jabbed her elbow to the rear and met his ready hand. “Too slow,” he hissed and ran his hand from waist to breast. Reaching forwards in slow, deliberate movements he cupped the soft globe in his fingers and let out a shuddering sigh. “I’m sorry.”
Hana held her breath. Du Rose men didn’t apologise and hearing Logan say the words stilled her troubled heart. He kissed the rise of her shoulder. “You’re right. Thanks for being honest and I’ll decide what to do in the morning.” His beard grazed the space beneath her left ear. “When I’ve got clothes on.”
Smirking, Hana rolled onto her back and put her arm around Logan, pushing her fingers through his dark hair. “Can you say it again please?” she murmured.
“What?” Logan’s hand roved across her stomach and his fingers closed around her waist. “I’ll kick his ass when I’ve got clothes on.”
Hana snorted. “Not that bit. I wanna hear you say sorry again.”
Logan’s head jerked backwards and she dug her fingers harder into his hair. “No way,” he groaned. “That was a one-time only offer.”
“I like hearing you apologise,” Hana whispered. “It makes you sexier; an alpha who knows how to bend to his woman’s will.”
“Whatever!” Logan covered her body with his and pinned her in place, reasserting his dominance and wanting her to massage his wounded ego. “What if I don’t mean it?”
Chapter 30
Self-saboteurs
“Why would Asher disobey you?” Hana yawned and stretched, feeling Logan shift next to her. “He’s lucky you allowed him to live with Nev.”
“That kid pressed the self-destruct button years ago. Now it’s all about waiting for detonation.”
“Why though?” Hana turned onto her stomach and shivered in the early morning chill of the old house. She peered at the floor looking for her pyjamas in the gloom. Spotting them over by the window she gave up trying to cover her dignity and pushed her body closer to Logan’s.
“Oosh, wahine!” he complained. “Not the feet; they’re blocks of ice.”
Hana grinned and ran her cool soles up the inside of his warm thigh until Logan clasped them in his big hands and massaged her freezing toes. She purred with pleasure. “Why, then?” she persisted. “What made him press the self-destruct button?”
“No idea,” Logan mused. “Maybe it’s the cost of living in Reuben’s house. Kane didn’t provide the greatest role model and Nev’s weak. Look at Tama; he’d started along the wrong path as well, but you brought him round.”
“Not me. Us.” Hana pressed her cold nose against Logan’s ribs and he shivered and grumbled his dislike. “You nurtured Tama long before I appeared on the scene.”
“Yeah, but what you gave him was different, probably something only a woman possesses. I couldn’t match that.”
“Asher had that. Anahera’s a good mother.”
Logan shifted and put an arm out of the covers, testing the chill and knowing he needed to brace himself to face it. He sighed. “But some kids just self-sabotage. Haven’t you noticed that?”
Hana nodded against his chest. “Bodie did that heaps. I’d haul him back onto the straight and narrow and things would improve, but the second I let my guard down and trusted him, he’d blow it. There’d be some dumb mate who suggested he did something for a dare and he’d do it without thinking about where it might lead. Then I’d find myself sitting in Angus’ office yet again. Bodie would cry, apologise, promise he’d try harder and then back we’d be a few months later sitting in the same seats. It felt endless and exhausting.”
“Same with Tama,” Logan sighed. “Helping a self-saboteur is like holding the tide back with your hands. You know you’re gonna end up slammed face first into the shale, but you stand there anyway and hope you’re wrong. Heaps of times I told him I was done and walked away. He’d cry, I’d relent and believe his promises. Then I’d get an email from his primary school as soon as I got back to the UK and wait up until midnight to talk to his teacher. He seemed to get worse after I came home to New Zealand and I hoped Angus could sort him out. Neither Kane nor Michael intended to.”
“Did you ever visit this school while I worked here?” Hana’s lips caressed Logan’s pectoral as she spoke, poking out her tongue to gauge his reaction.
“Yeah. Just day trips to sit in Angus’ office and get lectured about responsibility and what goes into creating a respectable young man. I never saw you.” Logan sighed. “Five years earlier and I could’ve saved myself a whole heap of time and trouble.” His fingers roved down her thigh and Hana felt him hold his breath, seeking her out in a familiar telepathic link to assess her interest.
“Ma!” Their bedroom door swung open and hit the side of the oak wardrobe with a crash. Hana heard the suitcase edge across the floorboards. Logan jumped, but she’d half expected an interruption and clamped a hand over the cuss word which escaped his lips.
“What?”
“Mac’s made a massive stink in the bedroom.” Wiri stood in the light from the hallway, his small body a dark silhouette. “Phoe’s gonna puke.”
Hana groaned. “I’m coming now. Just go to the bathroom and hop in the shower for school.”
“You’re nudey dudey.” Wiri sniggered and Logan turned his head to eyeball the child.
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes you are,” Wiri giggled. “I can see youse nono stickin’ out the bed. It’s a big, fat nono too.”
“Bathroom!” Hana growled, lifting her head so she could see over Logan’s chest. “I won’t ask again!”
The child turned away, shoulders slouched in mock irritation and Logan shouted to him. “Shut the door, man!”
Wiri returned, reached up to grab the handle and dragged the door closed behind him, slamming it so hard the house shook. Hana’s brow knitted. “You don’t think he’s pressed a self-destruct button, do you? I don’t think I’ve got the energ
y.”
“Na.” Logan sat up and stretched, his gold St Christopher resting against his collar bone as he moved. Hana watched as it swung down to its proper place and nestled between the dark, downy hairs. He leaned across and kissed her forehead. “And at least we can give that one back.”
Hana snorted. “You reckon?”
Logan stood and reached for his shorts and Hana lay back and watched his graceful movements. He caught her eye and tried to see behind him, spinning like a dog chasing its tail. “I don’t have a fat ass, do I?”
Hana laughed out loud. “No.” She pulled the sheet over her face. “But you’ve got a stronger stomach.”
Logan grumbled as he pulled a tee shirt over his head and left the room. Hana heard him shouting along the hallway. “Where’s the bugle bum then?”
The voices of the older children chimed in with shouts of, “He’s there!”
Hana showered with Mac sitting in a corner of the cubicle, with the jets turned away from his face. He chewed on his fist and grinned up at her. “Good morning,” Hana cooed. She squatted in front of him and used the sign to match her words. She brought the back of her right hand towards her left for ‘good’ and then reversed them and lowered her left hand to her inside forearm. “Good morning,” she repeated and Mac’s lips moved in a silent response. “Good morning,” Hana said again, remembering to smile and her son cocked his head and watched with intense green eyes, soaking in every small movement. “My mummy taught me sign language,” Hana told him. “It’s how we spoke together.” She closed her eyes and imagined Judith McIntyre’s slender fingers moving like graceful swans as she communicated. When Hana opened them again to dispel the ready tears, Mac’s emerald irises met her gaze with steady understanding.
Hana heard the sound of the water change as the nozzle jerked on its flexible hose and stopped pounding the glass cubicle. Instead it aimed itself at the back of her head and doused her with cooling liquid. Her eyes widened and she gasped, leaping up to slam on the handle and stop the cold water. She whirled around outraged and Mac laughed, a pleasant sound like tinkling bells. Hana smiled with delight. He loved it when she played the fool and Phoenix possessed a knack for making him giggle until he threw up. “You liked that! You’re a Du Rose male; you thrive on other people’s discomfort!” Hana slapped her naked thighs with her hands and pulled a face at the baby. His lips opened wide to reveal four pearly teeth and his eyes became happy slits ringed with dark eyelashes.
