“Want not,” he finished for her. “So I guess the answer is no.”
“You guessed right.”
He reached out for the packet of steaks in her hand. “Here, let me.”
The hairs on the back of her neck rose, but the words on the tip of her tongue were silenced when she dropped her gaze for a moment and her attention was captured by his bare feet. They were long, his toes well shaped, nails trim. Sexy.
Oh, dear god. Her gaze jerked back up, and she slammed the skillet on the bench, holding the steak packet to her chest as if it were a talisman against sexy men. Against him.
She really should step well away from him.
Mac leaned forward so that his legs were either side of hers, as were his arms, fingers splayed on the bench top. He didn’t actually touch her, but it was a caress nevertheless. Every part of Leah surged to life. She licked her lips and at the same time watched the curve of Mac’s mouth.
Bad idea. Because all she wanted to do was kiss him.
She didn’t move but finally found her tongue. “I don’t need your help.”
“You nervous, sweetheart?”
“No.” Leah swallowed back the lie.
“Really. That’s not how I see it. Do you know you smell good?” And he leaned a tad closer, inhaling. His dark eyes shuttered for a moment, and Leah thought he was going to kiss her.
He didn’t.
His eyes opened, humor glittering in their depths, his mouth quirking to one side. “What do you want, Leah?”
Yes, what?
Kiss me. Now!
For a horrified second, Leah thought she’d actually spoken the words. But then Mac pushed away from the bench, from her, and she felt a distinct sense of abandonment.
“Okay, so you don’t want to order dinner. How about I barbecue? Shame not to enjoy the weather.”
Just like that, he’d gone from teasing her senseless to talking about food. How typical of a man!
“You’ll need the seasoning,” she said just to get him out of her kitchen and away from reach. She reached for the seasoning jar. Hot and sexy. No, that was wrong. She shook her head, having trouble focusing on the spice label. Hot and spicy. She grabbed the spice bottle and passed it to him. Refusing to let him bait her further, she kept her expression glacial, when inside she was burning hot…and that was entirely his fault. “You’re not here to enjoy yourself.” Besides, she didn’t want to even consider the fact that she could enjoy time with him. That wasn’t allowed.
“Shame about that,” he responded, not even blinking an eye. Opening the back door that led from the kitchen to the brick paved patio, where the trailing clematis scented the garden, he walked outside, whistling to himself.
“Oooh.” Damn! Damn! Damn! Leah didn’t want him enjoying himself. Or smiling. Or whistling. Or…looking at her. And definitely not with those sexy eyes of his.
Her own eyes shuttered, but it seemed nothing could eradicate the vision of Mac smiling at her, or the memory of their kiss, as if it were yesterday.
Just a little kiss. It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did, because it stirred emotions and feelings she had tried to forget and told herself didn’t matter anymore.
How wrong she was. They mattered. Mac’s kiss had made sure of it.
And she hated to admit it, but only minutes ago she had thought he was going to kiss her again, and had really, really wanted him to.
Trying to keep busy and ignore his whistling or thinking about kisses, Leah gathered the ingredients for a salad from the refrigerator. Then she found herself whistling.
She slammed her lips together. For goodness sake, what was wrong with her?
Within minutes, Mac had the barbecue fired, but what worse was that he’d shucked off his T-shirt to reveal tanned forearms and biceps that would do a football player proud. And abs? Well… Far too much visual.
So what was different? The man stripped in the grove.
Yeah, but this was different. This was at home, more intimate.
A sudden uncertainty hitched in Leah’s chest as she watched him from the protection of the kitchen, watched his precise movements and found herself wondering…thinking shameless thoughts. Thinking about his hands skimming across her body and arousing her. Thinking about his kiss. About more kisses.
Oh lordy! She grabbed the skillet from the bench. “All the better to hit you with, Mac Grainger,” she muttered.
“Mummy, is Uncle Mac going to cook?” Charlee stood at the back door, staring first at Mac and then at Leah, surprise registering in both her expression and voice.
Leah understood that surprise. Cooking was another thing Curtis had never done.
“Charlee, take this out to Mac,” she instructed and handed her daughter the skillet.
As the easy laughter between Charlee and Mac once more filtered through to her, Leah realized it was happening, just as she knew it would. Curtis had never been a real father to Charlee, and just as any child did, her daughter soaked up all the attention Mac gave her. Mac had taken on the role of daddy. But Mac was temporary. What would happen when he left? The longer he stayed, the more painful his departure would be—another reason to get rid of him sooner rather than later.
Charlee attached to Mac wasn’t a good idea.
You’re getting attached too!
The knife sliced into her flesh. “Ow…” Leah squeezed her eyes shut, trying to blot out the instant burst of sharp pain, tears welling. “Charlee,” she called. “Get Mac, Charlee.”
Mutely she stared as the ooze of blood mingled with the tomato into a garish conglomeration of reds.
“Mummy!” Charlee burst through the back door and came to a grinding halt next to Leah. Her face bleached of color as her gaze fixed on the slash of red now dribbling down Leah’s hand. “Uncle! Uncle, come quick, Mummy’s…” Charlee slammed herself against Leah’s leg, arms wrapped around it tightly. “Mummy, don’t die, don’t die, please, I’ll be good. I promise.”
Oh dear God. “Charlee, it’s okay, sweetheart.” Leah ignored her pain, focusing on her daughter’s terror. “I’m okay, it’s just a cut,” she said, a hand caressing Charlee’s curls.
“Leah? What the…” Mac’s bronzed complexion paled.
She held up her hand. “It’s just a small cut. Don’t fuss.” But the blood kept on seeping, and Leah didn’t feel too great.
Mac’s mouth thinned, then his gaze dropped to a quivering Charlee. He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Charlee,” he said, stepping between her and Leah so that he blocked Charlee’s view. “I really need your help. Can you get me a towel, please?”
Her daughter’s gaze lowered slightly, but she nodded, then spun away and rushed off in the direction of the bathroom.
Mac reached for her hand. “What were you thinking?” His touch burned, and she wanted to yank it from him, but he held her firmly. “I…” Yeah, what?
She’d been thinking about him. And that was definitely the problem, but she sure as heck wasn’t about to admit it. No siree.
He turned her hand over, palm up, and pressed his fingertips to her still bleeding flesh. “It’s only superficial.”
“Tell that to the blood.”
He looked up at her, a fierceness etched into every line of his face, his heat and closeness overwhelming. “You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”
“No.” That would offer him far too much vulnerability.
“Good. I’m not sure I’m up to mopping up wailing females.”
“So much for your bedside manner.”
Mac’s inspection of her injury halted, his mouth twitching into a half smile. “You haven’t seen my bedside manner yet, sweetheart.” His voice had taken on a throaty, sexy quality. No. Don’t think that.
Leah shot him a look, and darn it, he was looking right back. Heat stole across her cheeks, her body igniting. Enough! She tried to tug her hand from his hold and failed.
“You asked for my help.”
“Yes, I know, I’m sorry, I’m ju
st…”
It was him, that’s all. She knew it. His closeness. His touch. But she sure as heck wasn’t about to tell him that. She strove for calm and reason. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time now, Mac.”
“Haven’t we all, but at least let me at least play Sir Galahad once in my life.”
“What happened to the bedside manner, doctor?”
“Doctors and nurses, now there’s an idea.”
“One you can forget, buster.” She chuckled back, despite the stinging pain in her hand.
“Shame. Could be kinda fun.”
Thankfully, before he had a chance to offer her another of his sexy innuendos, Charlee came back with a towel and passed it to him.
“Are you going to be all right, Mummy?”
“Of course, sweetheart.” With her uninjured hand, she wiped away Charlee’s tears.
“’Course she is,” Mac added. “She wouldn’t dare do anything else with me here, would you?”
Leah offered mock meekness and batted her lashes at him. “As if.”
For the next few minutes, he tended her cut, and she held her breath, wishing the moment were over.
“You can look now.”
“What?”
“Open your eyes, Leah.”
Her lashes lifted, and her vision focused immediately on Mac and, blast it all, his bare chest right in front of her. She licked her lips, which was a stupid move because it made her remember kissing him…and want it all over again.
“You said you weren’t going to faint,” he teased, “but then again it could be quite fun. I’d have to keep playing doctor and do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”
Oh, dear Lord. “Go put a shirt on, Mac.”
His brows rose suggestively. “Too hot for you, is it, sweetheart?”
Leah shoved herself up from the kitchen stool, not even sure how she actually got there in the first place, shook her head and then tucked strands of hair that had loosened from her ponytail behind her ear. “If you’re going to cook, Mac, please just go and do it.” She needed to be alone, to think. To get back to normal… Whatever that was. Because right now she wasn’t sure if she could even find a semblance of normal ever again.
All she knew was this awareness stuff going on shouldn’t be happening. Trouble was, her conscience and body sure as heck weren’t listening to her.
She tried not to compare the brothers, but that didn’t help one iota, either.
She’d been naive when she’d met Curtis, taken in by his easy charm and banter and his good looks. When she walked at his side, they’d receive admiring glances. Oh, she’d known they’d been all for Curtis, not for her. She was the drab young woman at his side, but the attention had made her feel special too, and for the first time in her life, she had felt important. Wanted.
And to give Curtis credit, she believed he did want her, at first, only to realise when it was too late that he’d used her as a personal ego-booster.
Her grandfather had told her that her mother had been a late bloomer, and so Leah guessed that was what had happened to her, but by then she was married to Curtis and suddenly, as her confidence as a young woman grew and her strength and knowledge and passion about the grove increased, she garnered the respect of the agricultural community. Curtis didn’t like it. He wasn’t the kingpin anymore.
Then Charlee came into their lives, and as Curtis’s addiction took over, Leah was once again that insecure girl who had no choice but to stay.
Now, as she watched Mac return to his grill, an adoring Charlee close by his side, she reminded herself not to trust too much in his charm and kindness. They could be as false as his brother’s had proved to be.
For two weeks, Mac had been under her roof, and there was no hint of him leaving.
Funny how life had become somewhat of a ritual.
They worked in the grove all day, and while they barely said a word to each other, there was a chemistry, a silent avowal of… The words that came to her mind were mutual respect.
Mac worked hard.
She worked harder. There was no way on earth she wanted him to think she couldn’t hack it. This was her land, her home, her livelihood, and she would do anything in her power to ensure it stayed that way.
After too many years of moving from one rented home to another and the uncertainty of life that had scarred her childhood, there was no way she’d ever let that happen to Charlee.
Later that night, with Charlee in bed, Leah relaxed with a book, though she realized she hadn’t actually turned a page for some time.
That was Mac’s fault.
He sat across from her in the lounge, busy on his laptop, though every now and again he would look up and catch her staring at him. He never said anything. Just lifted one dark brow in acknowledgment, and she would drop her gaze to her book again, having no clue what her characters were up to. It was as if they were a real couple.
When the phone rang, jolting her out of her reverie, for some reason she had an unearthly premonition of disaster lurking.
No one phoned at ten thirty at night, unless the aforementioned disaster was about to strike or had already hit dirt. Scrambling from the sofa, she snatched up the phone and turned away from Mac. “Hello.”
“Leah, it’s Howard Parker.”
“Howard,” she acknowledged. She liked Howard, a rough and tough guy whose crew of pickers worked the circuit of small independent farms like hers. He was good value, at a price she could afford—just. “Good to hear from you. I’m just about ready for your crew to start picking.”
“Sorry, Leah, but trouble’s brewing over at the Wexford property, so it means we’re going to get to you too late.”
“Late! But you can’t. I booked you weeks ago, Howard, I need to get the crop in on time. Otherwise…” Leah looked behind her, noting Mac’s attention had shifted directly to her. Great. Now he’d think she couldn’t handle things, again.
His brows rose. “Problem?”
She forced her mouth into a tight smile and mouthed nothing, then made a quick exit out the front door and pulled it closed behind her.
The scent of wild jasmine wafted up on a cool valley breeze that enveloped Leah as she sank onto a porch step. Beneath the canopy of moonbeams, she could make out the towering lushness of early flowering Pohutukawa, a sure sign the summer would be a good one.
She took in the shadowed beauty of the trees and beyond and sighed. “When can you come, Howard?”
“That’s just it. I can’t.”
“But we agreed.”
“Wexford is bigger. I gave you a discounted price due to your…um…circumstances, but money’s tight everywhere. I can’t turn Jake Wexford down.”
“But you can turn me down.”
“I’m sorry.”
Leah heard true regret in Howard’s tone and couldn’t really be angry with him, despite the fact circumstances threatened to destroy her crop.
She disconnected the call and dropped the phone to her lap. What now?
She had to get that crop in; only then could she get rid of Mac. That was imperative for her sanity. Her… Lordy, she was about to think heart. How ridiculous.
Okay, so the guy was sexy, in a devilish sort of way, but she couldn’t afford to play with the devil. Closing her eyes, she tried to blot all thoughts of Mac Grainger right out. She had a bigger problem to solve, but any hope of eradicating that man from the silent video playing in her head vanished the moment she heard him open the door and step up behind her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention, the play of something akin to excitement skittering up and down her spine. She choked back the tumble of emotions rioting inside her. This was not the time for that sort of thing.
“Leah?”
Without looking at him, she shook her head, waving him away. “Go away, Mac. Please.” She pushed herself up from the porch step, not wanting to be forced to look into his too-knowing eyes.
“What’s happened?”
She sniffed, refu
sing to give in to the tears she knew were so close to falling. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Why don’t you let me help?”
“You’ve already done enough. Just leave it.”
“I can’t.”
“Really? Are you trying to play the knight in shining armor? That’s not what I expect from you. A new cap, perhaps?”
“So there is a problem.”
Damn. She should have kept her mouth closed.
He stepped closer, and Leah found herself backing up to the porch railing. It dug into her back, a vicious reminder of reality, of what she could lose, of the situation Curtis had forced on her. Even from the grave, his bully-boy tactics reached out to her. She jammed her hands on her hips. “Like I said, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“From what I heard…”
Her stomach somersaulted. “You were eavesdropping?”
“Call it concerned observance,” he said with a nonchalant shrug.
“Oh, cut the caring routine, Mac. I don’t believe it. You’re only out for yourself and what you want. Just like Curtis. Look,” she said, sidestepping him, “I don’t have time for this. I’ve got to book another picking crew.”
“Another one?” His hand snapped around her wrist, yanking her back to face him. “Why the hell haven’t you organized it already? From my understanding, crews are booked a year in advance.”
Leah wrenched herself from his hold, the fingers of her left hand massaging her wrist. “I knew it!” She tossed her head back a fraction, brushing her hair from her eyes. “You think I’m totally incompetent.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No?” But the fight had gone out of her, and exhaustion took over. Her shoulders sagged. This was far too hard, yet she had to keep going. She had no choice. The alternative was to lose everything. Her voice was a whisper when she spoke. “You sure as heck thought it, though, Mac. As far as you’re concerned, I’m a useless mother, playing at farming and not able to…survive.” One look at him and she knew what she’d said was true. But worse, saying the words aloud broke her heart. Everything seemed to be going wrong, one disaster following another, and Mac’s hesitation sparked her frustration. “I was right. You’ve already convicted me.” Distancing herself from him, she pushed open the front door and stepped over the threshold. “I don’t have time to talk about this. I have to make some calls.”
Secrets and Seductions Page 6
