Nathan's Child (16 page)

And while he did it, he talked about Pelican Cay, about going back there with Sierra. “I was scared to,” he said.

“Scared?” Carin blinked, surprised at the confidence he was sharing.

Dominic shrugged. “It was sex at first, you know, between us. At least that's all we thought it was. But it wasn't just sex for long. It was Sierra. I cared a lot about her. I
loved
her. But I didn't know how she felt.” There was still a raw aching sound in his voice when he spoke of those days.

“She loves you,” Carin said quickly, trying to reassure him. Any fool could see that.

Dominic grinned. “I know that now.”

“I'm glad,” she told him sincerely. “I'm glad you're happy. I worried about it. About you. But I couldn't—”

“I know you couldn't marry me. It's a good thing you didn't. I just wish you could have told me why. I wish I'd
let
you tell me why.” His mouth twisted wryly. But then he shrugged and smiled again, though his eyes grew serious. “I hope you and Nathan can be happy, too.”

Carin wet her lips. What could she say to that? It wasn't the same as with him and Sierra.

“I hope so, too,” she said at last.

It was close to midnight by the time they went home with Rhys and Mariah and the twins. Stephen and Lizzie were both asleep, and Lacey was yawning madly as Rhys
flagged down two taxis and directed them to their brownstone across the park.

“I don't want to inconvenience you,” Carin began.

“You won't,” Rhys said flatly, “unless you make me take you down to midtown to some hotel.”

Carin sighed and settled back against the seat, once more giving in to the inevitable, “I won't do that.”

Rhys and Mariah owned the whole brownstone they lived in. They had two tenants on the upper floors, but the third-floor studio apartment that looked out onto the garden was vacant.

“We keep it for friends,” Mariah said as she led Carin and Lacey up the stairs. Nathan had been deputized to help Rhys get the two sleeping children into their beds. “And brothers. And their families.”

“I'm not family,” Carin protested.

“I am,” Lacey said firmly.

“Of course you are,” Mariah said. “And Nathan is.”

“
Nathan
?”

“Oh, dear. I just assumed… Would you rather Nathan slept downstairs with us.”

“We stayed with him when Mom got hurt,” Lacey said. “He slept on the couch right by her room. He carried her to the bathroom every day,” she told her aunt Mariah.

After that revelation, Carin could hardly say she wanted him downstairs. “It's all right,” Carin mumbled.

And then she discovered the sleeping arrangements.

It was a one-room apartment. The “sofa” was a trundle bed and there was a high built-in queen-size platform bed which was separated from the rest of the room by the two-foot high carpeted “wall” that enclosed two sides of it, giving only the illusion of privacy.

When Nathan finally came upstairs half an hour later, Carin had done the best she could.

Lacey, in pajamas, was tucked into the platform bed. The trundle was made up for Nathan.

“I'll just slip in alongside Lacey,” Carin told him. At least they would have the two-foot wall between them.

“With your arm?”

Oh, hell. She hadn't even thought of that. She was so used to her cast by now that she barely gave it any thought. It was an inconvenience to her. But it would be more than that to Lacey, who was a restless sleeper. Lacey would be banging into her all night.

“I'll pull out the other trundle bed for you,” Nathan offered with a grin.

He did—and lined it up right next to his. The room was now virtually a wall-to-wall bed—with Carin right next to Nathan.

“Isn't this cozy?” He grinned.

Carin gave him a hard look and didn't deign to reply.

“I think it's cool.” Lacey shoved herself up on her pillow and peered over the little wall. “I know you said I was going to get a surprise,” she said to her mother, eyes shining. “But this is so cool. All of us being here together like a real family.” Lacey's gaze went from Carin to Nathan. “This is the best surprise ever.”

O
F ALL THE
W
OLFE BROTHERS
, Nathan was the born fisherman.

Dominic and Rhys were fast-moving, take-charge, do-it-now men who gnashed their teeth if the fish weren't biting. They fished, but mostly they argued about where they ought to be fishing, what kind of bait to use, what time to go out, when to come in, and which one had caught the bigger fish.

The fact was, Nathan almost always caught the biggest fish because he was the one with the patience. He was the one who studied the currents, checked the depth, considered the temperature and the time of year and made his plans accordingly.

And then he sat. And sat. And sat.

He always knew what he was after, and he was always willing to wait. A guy didn't value something unless he worked for it, Nathan figured. And he valued it even more if he'd endured some hardship and frustration along the way.

What was true of fishing was also true of his photography and his books. They were products of much thought, long hours, vast patience and hard work.

So was courting Carin.

And if thought, long hours, vast patience and a fair amount of work had anything to do with it, the way Nathan figured it, he ought to value Carin more than anything or anyone on earth.

Talk about patience, endurance, frustration! God Almighty!

Here he was in bed lying mere inches from her—
inches!
—and she was sound asleep.

Carin wasn't frustrated. Not a bit! She had glared at him as if he'd manipulated the whole disastrous sleeping arrangements bit, then she'd brushed her teeth, kissed Lacey good-night, and climbed into the trundle bed right next to his as if she didn't even notice him.

So what else was new? Nathan thought, grinding his teeth.

He'd done his damnedest to make this evening a success, to make her enjoy herself, to encourage her to feel a part of the family—and what did he have to show for it?

Zip. Nada. Zilch. Not a damn thing.

Unless you counted the fact that she was now comfortable enough around him to fall asleep virtually in the same bed with him as if he weren't even there! Lots of comfort in that revelation, huh? Nathan practically snorted in disgust.

She'd spent the whole evening basically ignoring him. She'd seemed to enjoy his sisters-in-law. She'd played with his nieces and nephew. She'd chatted easily with his father and Rhys. She'd even gone off into the kitchen and, he hoped, had a heart-to-heart with Dominic. But had it done any good?

God knew.

Nathan certainly didn't. She was acting as if he wasn't even here.

Maybe he should have told her he was coming along. Oh, yeah, that would have done a lot of good. She'd have refused to come, point-blank. No, it was better he hadn't said anything. Better just to go on with events as planned—and hope that she eventually softened toward him, trusted him. Loved him.

But every time he hoped, every time he thought things would go his way, every time he thought he had come up with the perfect bait, Carin looked at it, swam lazily around, daring him to hope. And then…she turned away.

Nathan was a good fisherman. He was a determined fish
erman. But a guy had his limits. He didn't remember Carin being so stubborn.

He didn't remember her being so beautiful! But then, she was only inches away, so close he could feel the heat of her body. A sigh shuddered through him.

He didn't know how long he could last.

“Dad?” Lacey's whisper cut into the silence, surprising him. She'd been so tired he thought she'd be asleep before they shut out the lights.

He rolled to a sitting position. “What?”

Her head appeared above the little wall. “Just checking.” Her grin flashed in the moonlight. “I woke up and thought I'd dreamed it. But it's true. We're really here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Nathan muttered. “We're really here.”

“Good.” She sighed contentedly. Her head disappeared again and she settled back against the pillows. “G'night, Dad.”

“G'night, Lace.”

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“I hope it's always like this.”

God help him, Nathan thought.

 

Carin wished it could always be like this.

Well, not the going-to-bed with Nathan just inches away. At least, not if she had to resist him. That was hard. And it didn't get any easier with each night that passed.

But the rest of the time was far more wonderful than she ever could have dreamed. She'd envisioned a happy little trip for herself and Lacey, a chance to sightsee, the possibility of visiting some of the places she'd known growing up, to show Lacey a little of her history.

But this was so much more.

And they owed it all to Nathan.

One more way in which she was beholden to Nathan.
The list went on and on. She didn't want to feel grateful. But on Lacey's behalf, she had to be.

Lacey was having a wonderful time. Sierra, with Lily in tow, took her up to see Uncle Dominic in his office the first day, while Nathan and Carin went to the gallery to talk to Stacia. From there, Lacey told her, they all—Dominic included—went sightseeing. They took a boat trip around Manhattan Island. They saw so many things Lacey couldn't remember them all. She was delighted—as much because she'd enjoyed the day with her uncle, aunt and cousin as because of where they went.

The next day Mariah and Rhys and Douglas took Lacey and the twins to the zoo and to Central Park. Lacey loved it—mostly loved
them
.

“I wish they would all come to Pelican Cay,” she told Carin and Nathan that evening. “They can come soon, can't they?”

“Sure,” Nathan said easily.

And Carin smiled, pained and pleased at the same time. “Of course.”

Her own days had been as memorable as Lacey's—in a far different way. Stacia had asked her and Nathan to come down to the gallery to supervise the hanging of the paintings and photos and to meet with a couple of interviewers. She had been nervous, never having done anything on this scale before.

But Stacia made it easy. And Nathan made it an experience she would never forget. In the gallery she saw the professional Nathan Wolfe. She knew he had an eye for a good photo, but now she saw that he had an eye, too, for how those photos—and her paintings—ought to be displayed.

He countered Stacia's idea of just having their work in the same gallery and dealing with the same island with his own notion that the paintings and photos ought to work
together, side by side, complementing and contrasting with each other, offering two perspectives on island life.

“Island Eyes, isn't that what you want?” he said to Stacia.

“But you don't know what paintings I've done,” Carin said.

In fact, it seemed that he did. While she'd been laid up, he had helped Stacia pack and ship all her work. He'd taken photos of them. And then he'd gone out and shot pictures that would echo and complement her paintings.

As Stacia and the gallery personnel hung them, with Nathan's help, Carin sat back and stared. It was like seeing her vision amplified, developed, shaded, sharpened. Each of her paintings became a focal point, heightened by Nathan's work—and Lacey's—which surrounded it.

Carin was amazed at the quality of Lacey's work.

“She's good,” Nathan said simply. He had picked half a dozen of their daughter's photos to use in the show and had matted and framed them himself.

“With Lacey's help,” he told Carin. “That's what we were doing some of the mornings when we were gone.”

“Does she know they're going to be up?” she asked.

He shook his head and smiled. “One more little surprise.”

Lacey would be over the moon. Carin felt a lump grow in her throat.

One more thing they owed Nathan.

The third day—the day of the opening—Sierra came over and fixed both Carin's hair and Lacey's.

“Will you dye it blue?” Lacey begged. “Or purple? Like yours was.”

Sierra's was a natural brown now. She'd stopped using dyes, she told Lacey, when she found out she was pregnant with Lily.

Now she wouldn't dye Lacey's hair, either. “It's too
beautiful a color the way it is,” she said. “Like a beautiful sorrel. But I can add some beads.”

Lacey's eyes widened. “Really? My friend Marisa has beads.”

In minutes, so did Lacey. Sierra braided a few strands of multi-colored beads into Lacey's hair, giving it an unexpected flair, and making her niece grin and shake her head every time she came to a mirror.

“You look great,” Sierra said. “And so do you,” she told Carin.

Carin was pretty sure she was being kind. Of course her hair was fine, because Sierra had done it that afternoon. And her dress was lovely, because Mariah and Sierra had picked it out.

They'd taken her shopping last night, and while Carin had wanted to opt for a basic black conservative dress, they wouldn't hear of it.

“You want to look like you're going to an undertakers' convention?” Sierra demanded.

“Black is supposed to look arty,” Carin said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“How much black do you normally wear?” Mariah asked.

“Not much.”

“Well, there you are. Your dress should reflect who you are.”

So she'd ended up with a casually sophisticated dress in a myriad of blues and greens, fitted at the bodice, nipped in at the waist, and flared so that it looked like the sea swirling around her knees when she walked.

“Island colors,” Sierra said approvingly.

“And a style that shows off her tan,” Mariah had agreed.

It showed way more tan than Carin thought appropriate. Only the thinnest straps held it up. And besides giving the world a look at Carin's tanned shoulders, it showed off
most of her back. There was a good deal more to look at than the white plaster on her arm.

Nathan, who was waiting in Mariah and Rhys's apartment, goggled when she come downstairs wearing it.

“Turn around,” Mariah commanded.

Carin did. And Nathan swallowed visibly when he saw the plunging back.

“That?” he said hoarsely. “You're wearing
that
?”

Nervous already, Carin managed, “Is it too…?”

But the fact was she could hardly speak for staring, too. She'd never seen Nathan dressed up before. He'd been appealing in scruffy shorts and T-shirts, but in a severe black suit, sharp white shirt and burgundy tie, Nathan Wolfe was a mind-boggling, lust-inducing sight.

They simply stood there staring at each other.

“Yes,” Mariah said with satisfaction.

“Oh, my yes,” Sierra agreed.

Nathan turned his glare on his smug sisters-in-law. “What are you trying to do to me?”

They grinned.

Then the door opened, and Dominic stuck his head in. “Car's waiting. Let's go.”

Carin felt a shaft of pure panic, now that the moment had arrived. She was actually grateful when Nathan's hand closed around hers.

He gave her a wink and a grin. “Stick with me. You'll be fine. I'll take care of everything.”

In fact he did. She didn't want to admit it, but by deflecting some of the attention and answering nosey questions with exactly the right mixture of nonsense, jargon and charm, Nathan made the whole experience far less of an ordeal than it would have been without his presence.

People—especially women—gravitated to him, talked to him, demanded his attention. And he gave it to them, but at the same time he kept a hand on Carin. He drew her into
the conversation, introduced her to everyone, made sure they knew this was
her
show, not his.

“It's sort of a family affair,” he said when they asked why his photos were being displayed with hers. “Some of our daughter's work is here, too.”

Lacey had been amazed at the sight of her own work hung with her parents'. “I took that picture,” she whispered to her grandfather when she caught sight of the first one—a shot of Zeno and Miss Saffron's cat, momentarily friends, curled up together in the shade of a palm.

She walked around the gallery wide-eyed, grinning from ear to ear. And when she found Carin and Nathan, she hugged them both, and Carin thought she saw tears in her daughter's eyes. More than once that night, watching Lacey, watching Nathan and his family—feeling the connections between them and wishing—Carin had felt tears of her own.

It would be so wonderful to be a part of this family. A real part. A beloved part—not just a duty.

“Lovely show.” A woman's voice called her back to the present, and she turned to see Gabriela, Nathan's agent, smiling at her. “Looks like it all worked out.”

Carin nodded. “Thanks to Nathan.” She didn't hesitate to admit that.

“Oh, Nathan's a brick,” Gabriela said dryly, then she turned to him. “I need to talk with you.”

Nathan frowned. “Now?”

“Now. Sorry.” She gave Carin a commiserating smile. “I'll return him in a moment. We have a bit of business. Then I have to catch a plane back to Santa Fe.”

“Of course.” Carin smiled at her. “I can manage,” she assured Nathan, who looked as if he were going to argue with Gabriela.

Nathan's jaw worked for a moment. He hesitated, then shrugged. “Okay. One minute.” He took Gabriela's arm and they moved to a corner of the room where Carin tried
not to watch them talking. But whether she wanted to or not, her gaze kept drifting their way.

Gabriela was apparently determined to make the most of her minute. She was talking nonstop, gesturing, pointing, obviously feeling very strongly about something.

Nathan was leaning against the wall, hands tucked in his pockets, looking casual. But from the way his jaw tightened as he listened to her words, he didn't seem to be as nonchalant as his pose might suggest.

They were too far away for Carin to have any idea what they were saying. It wasn't her business anyway, she told herself severely. And she was glad when Stacia brought over a journalist to talk with her.