Secrets and Seductions (14 page)

He cursed his raging libido. All day he’d been on edge, in heat. Yet, fool that he was, he’d dragged up every reason to stay away, rereading Curtis’s last email and forcing himself to commit to memory why he was playing happy families in the first place. Why Leah was here.

Right now, though, that detail diminished with every breath he took. “I don’t expect you to cook,” he finally said, recognizing the inane words as a jumble of nothing. Tough, it was all he could think of right now.

And damn it, she heard the cut in his voice, because he witnessed the light in her eyes darkening. “I’m presuming you want to eat,” she shot back.

Guilt soured Mac’s taste buds, and he dragged a hand through his hair, then yanked at his tie and undid the top two buttons of his shirt at the same time. He needed to breathe. Relax.

Hard ask, buster.

“Sorry. I’ve had a hard day.” Hard? Hell, he’d had a hard-on all day.

Her eyes widened. “Really?
You’ve
had a hard day. I’ve lost everything I possess. That’s called hard.” She stepped up close, and his nostrils flared as he stole a deep breath, relishing the lingering fragrance of olives and the earth, such an integral part of her and very sexy. Mostly, though, he could just smell her, the perfume he had dreamed about all day.

He spun away. What the hell was wrong with him? He was fantasizing, for God’s sake. He ground his teeth as his struggle to win the war of common sense over lust reached a pinnacle. He wanted to hold her and desperately wanted to kiss her. Just to see…

What? That he could turn around and walk away? That he could subjugate his conscience?

Who was the fool now? He had to get it together, fast. He turned back to her. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, trying for an added dimension of sincerity. “But seeing you in the kitchen, well… I didn’t expect it. I mean I don’t expect you to cook. Betty will be back soon.”

“I cooked at the farm. What’s the difference?”

“Nothing,” he admitted.

“But you expect me in your bed.”

Hell yeah!
He tried to analyse the tone of her voice. Was it wistful or in denial?

In truth, he didn’t have a clue. Instead, he found himself smiling, and his tension eased a fraction. “Touché. You can’t deny last night was good.”

Heat traced a teasing path up her throat and cheeks, the light in her eyes sparkling. Her mouth twitched. He focused on that twitch. So kissable.

“A repeat performance would be kinda fun,” he prompted.

“Sorry, but that was a one-time-only performance.”

Mac clamped down his disappointment and shrugged, offering an indifference he certainly didn’t feel. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

“I guess I deserved that. Our…ah…living arrangements are a bit new,” he offered as an excuse.

“Don’t worry, they’re temporary.”

“Shame. It has its perks. I mean a meal, and…”
Shut it, Grainger
. Mac cursed his libido once more. He didn’t want Leah to retreat from him. Perhaps if her defenses were lowered, he’d see the real Leah, the real mother, then the custody would be signed, sealed and delivered right into his hands.

That he was so devious should have shocked him, but it didn’t. If needs must, he reasoned privately. And he wanted answers.

Standing beside her, he lifted up the pot lid and inhaled. “Smells good.” What he wanted to say was she smelt better.

“It’s nearly ready.”

He heard the clipped tone in her voice, noted the slightly shaking hands. She twisted them together.

“How’s Charlee,” he questioned, looking toward his niece, who was coloring in. “She looks okay.”

“She is. She’s resilient.”

“Just like her mother?”

“If you’re asking am I okay, then yes I am. I went out to the farm.”

“Alone? Why didn’t you wait, I could have come with you.”

“Why? It’s not your home that burned down.”

“No, but, hell, Leah, I could have been there for you.”

“Waiting with open arms, no doubt, when I fell to pieces.”

“What? I just said I reckoned you were resilient. Isn’t that something?”

“I suppose so,” she acquiesced. She turned the elements off, reaching for the dinner plates from a nearby cupboard. “Go through, Mac. I’ll be there in a moment.”

“I know you didn’t ask me to go, Leah, but I would have.”

Sad eyes stared up at him. “I know. But, well, like you said, I’m tough. I can handle it.”

As much as he’d built walls around himself, it was clear she’d built up her own too, and he yearned to pull down those walls, show her she wasn’t so alone after all. He went to turn away, but found his gaze focused on her lips again. A beautiful mouth, tempting and sweet. “I want to kiss you, Leah.”

Nervousness skittered across her green gaze. “I know.”

“But if I touch you right now, you’ll run a mile.”

Surprise lightened her expression. “You can read me that well?”

“I know how your body hums for mine,” he murmured, mindful Charlee was nearby.

“You’ve got that wrong, Mac.”

“Really? Want to try again and find out?”

“No. I told you, it was a lone performance.” She lowered her gaze from his then, turning away to dish up dinner, and Mac decided it was best if he retreated. He had to take his time, something he wasn’t used to doing. Patience had taken him to the top in life. Now, impatience scored deep. However, if it meant Leah graced his bed again, he’d wait. Making love with Leah would definitely be worth waiting for.

In the lounge, Charlee lay sprawled on the floor, paper and coloring pencils surrounding her. She gave him a wave and a sweet smile. “Hiya, Uncle Mac.”

Uncle
. Mac’s heart lurched, and for a moment jealousy soured his gut. This was Curtis’s family. For the first time he felt jealous of his brother for what he’d had and yet, according to Leah, hadn’t really treasured.

Mac pasted on a smile. “Hey there, kiddo, what’s this?”

“Mummy brought me a coloring-in book, since the fire took everything.”

“So you like to color in?”

“Yep. Mummy and I color in all the time.”

He plopped down on the floor with Charlee, and the years seemed to slip away.

A mother who played with her child wasn’t neglectful. He tried to remember when his mother had played with him. Had she? Ever? He remembered her disinterest, her wrath.

He wasn’t perfect. Not like Curtis. Not like the golden boy.

“Penny for them,” Leah said as she ambled over.

He dropped the green crayon he’d been using to help Charlee color in a dinosaur and pushed himself to his feet. He tried for a smile, but his mouth wouldn’t obey. She stood a few feet away and looked at home, which surprised him given that she had protested about coming here in the first place, and that she’d said it was
definitely
temporary.

Staring at her, he wondered about her life, her family. He remembered his, and bitter thoughts colored his tone as he spoke. “You really wouldn’t want to know what I’m thinking right now.”

“Try me?”

His jaw tightened. “Leave it, Leah. Let’s eat.” He marched past her, an unknowing Charlee skipping at his side.

“Where do I sit, Uncle?”

Distracted, he pulled out a chair for the child. “How about here.”

“And you?”

“I’ll sit here.” He indicated the chair at one end of the mahogany dining table.

Charlee hopped up onto her chair, her cherubic face creasing into a frown. “Daddy used to sit at the head of the table too. He said it was because he was the boss. Are you the boss, Uncle Mac?”

Mac’s gaze crossed to Leah. She watched him right back, unblinking, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. It was an action he recognized she did when uncertainty reigned. Charlee’s question repeated itself in his brain? Was he the boss?

Hell no.
Leah had him and his libido running in circles.

“Nope. Don’t think so.” He chuckled and tossed a quick smile in Leah’s direction. “I reckon your mother has that job. She can boss me around anytime.”

Even from across the table, he witnessed her heightened flush, eyes sparkling, the tilt of her chin. Oh, how she dared him. And he wanted that challenge, because he had something to prove.

“That’s not what Daddy said.”

Charlee’s reply pulled Mac up short. So what did Daddy do? “Really?”

“Eat up, Charlee,” Leah cut in, her voice taking on a near-panic tone.

Mac shifted his attention from Charlee to Leah. What was going on here? Again he realized she was hiding something. Something about Curtis.

Sadly, he had to admit he knew little of his brother, the adult, as Curtis had been barely in his teens when Mac upped and left fifteen years ago.

“Daddy used to yell that he was the boss, and Mummy and me should just do what he says.”

“Charlee!”

“But…”

“No buts, Charlee. Enough.”

Worried, dark eyes that mimicked his brother’s lifted to Leah. “Mummy, now Daddy’s gone, does that mean the bad man has gone too?”

A sudden quietness fell over the table as all color drained from Leah’s face. For a fraction of a moment, she said nothing, wary gaze darting to him, then stealing away again. She shuffled closer to Charlee, hooking an arm over her daughter’s small shoulders. Charlee hugged into the curve of Leah’s body.

“Don’t you worry about that, sweetie, he’ll never come back.” Gathering up some cushions Charlee had plopped on the floor, she said, “I know, how about you have a picnic?” She held the cushions out to Charlee. “Take them to your room and make a secret cave with the blankets and the bedside chair. I’ll bring your supper in, and you can pretend to be camping.”

Charlee’s face lit up. “I love camping.”

Once Leah had Charlee settled, his niece’s bubbling chatter echoing from the bedroom, she returned. Frustration burgeoned inside Mac. He wanted answers. “Who the hell is the bad man?”

Leah refused to look at him, busying herself with dishing up the dinner. “Nobody.”

“I heard Charlee talk about the bad man the evening I arrived. Are there other men in your life I need to know about?”

A plate slipped from her fingers and clattered back onto the bench. “And I told you, no.” With shaking fingers, she righted the plate and wiped up the spilled food.

Mac’s gut churned; his suspicion spiked. “Is that why Curtis called you neglectful? The night I arrived, you’d left Charlee alone while you worked. You abandoned her. Hell, maybe you go out on the town looking for fun.”

“Charlee was asleep.”

“She was alone,” he corrected.

“I was outside. I had work to do.”

“Ah…work. The all-important.”

“Yes, Mac, it is important. It brings in money so we can survive. But then, you’ve got so much, you don’t have to worry. You haven’t a clue.”

“Don’t try and turn it around, Leah. You left her
alone
, just like Curtis said you did.” The thought sickened him. He sank onto his chair, and for a moment he stared ahead, at nothing really, while memories plagued him. She’d left her child alone. It reminded him too much of his childhood, of being alone, sometimes not physically, but emotionally, cut off and separate.

He didn’t want any of it to be true, for Charlee’s sake. But it was. He could see the guilt etched across Leah’s beautiful, kissable face.

“I only go out at night when I know she’s asleep. The work has to be done. I’m never very far away. And,” she said, stepping forward and towering over him, “let me tell you, I do not go out and have fun, as you call it.” Her chest heaved, her breathing rapid. For several silent seconds she just stood there, then suddenly she spun on her heel and hightailed it to Charlee’s room, closing the door firmly behind her.

Mac stared after her. This was definitely about Charlee now. She was a Grainger and his responsibility. He didn’t want to believe that the woman in his arms last night was any of the things Curtis had vilified, but right now he wasn’t quite so sure. Nothing seemed to fit.

However, he would keep his promise, though he realized he’d already crossed the invisible barrier. No matter what he knew, he still wanted Leah in his bed.

Leah needed to go back out and see Mac, face her nemesis. Trouble was, now she’d slept with him, everything had become far too personal.

All day in the grove, he’d been on her mind, and time after time she’d caught herself staring into space at nothing in particular, though her imagination focused on something very particular.

Mac. And the things he had roused in her last night.

Fever-pitch would have been an apt description, one that lasted all night and day, and the moment he’d arrived home, that fever had scooted way up the temperature gauge to boiling point.

Then he’d reiterated Curtis’s persecution. None of it was true, not in the sense he wove it. That Mac didn’t believe her hurt, but what shamed her was that she still wanted him, lusted after him, despite his condemnation.

Before facing him, Leah decided on a shower and retreated through the connecting door of Charlee’s room to their adjoining ensuite, grateful her daughter had finally fallen asleep.

Half an hour later, forced from the soothing cascade before her skin turned to a wrinkly mess, she donned her robe. Trepidation wrapped itself around her nerves.

She had one more job to do before she could retire. She had to defend herself and make Mac understand.

Hands entrenched in the deep pockets of her robe and with her stomach churning, she ventured into the kitchen, only to come to a sudden stop. Shirtsleeves rolled up, a tea towel tucked into the belt of his very expensive designer suit trousers, Mac stood at the bench, elbows deep in soapsuds.

He glanced over at her, clearly aware of her surprise, and chuckled. “I can do this, you know.” A plate slipped from his fingers and plopped back into the water, sending a shower of soapy bubbles skyward.

Leah burst into laughter. “Oh, Mac. You could have used the dishwasher.”

“Soap suds are easier.”

“Are you trying to tell me you don’t know how the dishwasher works?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders and offered her a lame grimace.

“You make business deals in your sleep but can’t use a dishwasher.”