Songbird (A Sinclair Story #1) (4 page)

Nathan
crossed to grab the plastic bag which had been dropped on their entrance and
pulled out one of the diapers.

“Do
you have children?” he had to ask as he handed her the diaper and lumbered down
next to them. She was so efficient with the baby; only someone with experience
could be this calm. He took one look at the tiny flailing limbs and figured
anything he touched would break.

She
smiled, but her eyes were sad. “No, my lifestyle is a bit extreme for kids.”
She cleared her throat. “I had a sister, although I was too young to really
look after her.”

Nathan
wanted to push further, ask what had happened, but the raw pain in her eyes
halted him. For some reason, despite his generally blunt nature, he wanted to
protect this fragile looking girl. Miguel was back in moments. They had first
class kitchen facilities, and even with the power off the hot and cold filtered
water system would still work.

“Here
you are.” He placed a jug, a stack of cloths, and a cup with a soft yellow lid
next to her. “We use those sucker lids for the baby animals,” he explained.
“That’s an unused one, I figured she was too small for a cup.”

Melodee
smiled, her beauty highlighted in the firelight, and Nathan resisted the urge
to shove Miguel aside. He wanted to be the reason her face lit up like that.
Fuck, what was wrong with him? If he continued along this path, he was going to
have to take himself out the back and kick his own ass. The baby had been
quiet, lying peacefully in front of the fire, and then suddenly as Melodee
finished the diaper and clipped her back into the outfit, her little face
screwed up and without any warning screams erupted.

“You’re
okay.” Melodee picked her up. “I’ll bet you’re hungry.”

Without
warning, the baby was thrust at him. Her screams died off as she came face to
face with Nathan. Her blue eyes regarded him for a moment before a gummy smile,
with two bottom teeth, crossed her face.

“Hold
her please. I need to measure out the formula.”

The
request was polite, but Nathan could hear the order in her tone. She was strong
and knew what she wanted, and he had to respect that. Reaching out, he
tentatively accepted the surprisingly solid weight of this tiny human. Nathan
was the third brother, but with only eighteen months between each of the
Sinclair boys, only Matthew, the eldest, would have any memory of babies. This
was the first time Nathan had held a child, and it took him a few minutes to
get comfortable. By this time she was starting to fuss again.

Melodee
took thirty-seconds to read the side of the tin. Using a small plastic
measuring container, which must have been inside, she mixed up two scoops into
the cup. Nathan started to jiggle and move around the room. Any time he
stopped, the baby would start to grizzle again.

“Thanks.”
Melodee stepped over, her soft skin brushing his as she accepted the baby back.
Nathan couldn’t tear his eyes away as the pair settled into the deep, burgundy
couch. Its padded cushions rose up to enclose them. He loved these couches, he
knew his gramps had paid a small fortune for them, but they were worth every
penny as far as he was concerned.

The
baby relaxed into Melodee’s arms, her rosebud mouth closing around the tip of
the sippy-cup. She needed a few attempts to take the foreign sucker into her
mouth. She fussed and cried, but eventually the lure of food had her drinking
deeply. Miguel dropped a few more logs into the huge fireplace, keeping the
room toasty warm. Nathan could hear the storm raging outside, but it was
peaceful inside right now.

“We’ll
be fine, if you need to secure anything or check on the animals,” Melodee said,
as she raised her face from the baby. “I’ll just stay right here. You don’t
have to worry about your house.”

Nathan
crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t give a shit about the house, you can
explore if you want.” He nodded toward Miguel who was perched in the doorway.
“But we do need to finish up with the animals.”

“Do
you need anything else before we leave?” Miguel asked her.

She
shook her head, black hair falling around her face again. Nathan resisted the
urge to reach out and push it back. Why the hell was it this girl, above all
others, that drew him so strongly? Maybe it was her lack of interest? Unlike
his usual female encounters, Melodee was focused on the baby. Paying him little
attention.

Miguel
gave her a wave. “Okay, we’ll be finished soon and I’ll scrounge up some
lunch.”

“Oh,
that gym bag near the door has food in it,” she called out as they were
leaving.

Nathan
realized that she must have gathered up the supplies from Doug’s car. His
friend’s lifeless face flashed across his mind. It wasn’t a good time to start
grieving, so he forced himself to focus on Melodee instead. How had she thought
to gather food and check the other car after just escaping a wreck? That was
not something a normal person would do.
Nathan tore his gaze from
her, and followed Miguel from the room. Somehow or other Melodee was under his
skin already. There was something unusual about her, and he loved a challenge.
He was going to uncover her secrets.

Chapter 3

Melodee
let out a relieved breath as those inquisitive eyes finally left the room.
Nathan stared at her like he could see through the façade she showed the world,
right to the scars littering her soul. No one that damn gorgeous should also
possess cunning intelligence or eyes the color of the Mediterranean. Not only
that, but when he’d taken off his coat and rolled up his sleeves she’d seen the
tattoo that covered his right arm and up the side of his neck. She was a sucker
for hot men with tattoos.

She reassured herself that sooner or later his
faults would shine through. In her experience, the better looking and rich
people were, the less you could trust them. And considering he called this
place a cabin, he was either delusional or loaded – it was a god damned
mansion. She might have only been in the massive entry and front room, but she
could see from the high, wood-paneled ceiling and sturdy, quality fittings that
this room alone was worth a fortune.

Laying her head back, she snuggled in deeper to the
most amazing couch she’d ever experienced. What was it made from, freaking
clouds or something? The little girl shifted in her arms and Melodee opened her
eyes to find that now warm and fed ‘Jewel’ – she’d nicknamed her due to her
shining eyes – had fallen asleep. Jewel had amazingly long, dark lashes that
washed over the pale, chubby baby cheeks. Melodee loved the innocence of
children, but it was bittersweet being this close, as she never expected to
have a family of her own. She was too damaged. She shook her head, shoving back
the memories. If she let that time in her life free rein in her thoughts, she
wouldn’t get up each morning.

It was quiet in the house. The howling winds could
be heard in the background, but Melodee felt detached from the raging storm.
She was trying her best to block out the faces of the two victims of her car
crash, but poor Doug and the young mother were on her mind. Weariness washed
over her. Now that her adrenalin had worn off she was feeling wrecked, her body
urging her to rest. To force herself to stay awake, Melodee stood and smoothly
transferred Jewel into the car seat, making sure she was well covered and warm.
Her tiny nose wrinkled as her face creased. Melodee waited for a cry, but with
a yawn the baby soon settled back into sleep. Placing the sippy-cup next to the
car capsule, she would wash it out when the men returned. She wouldn’t leave
Jewel alone, not in a strange house. Her instincts urged her to keep her in
sight.

Melodee took her time to wander around the large,
comfortable room. As she moved, her aches and pains started to make themselves
known. Lifting her shirt-sleeves, discolored bruises had already started to
form from the accident, especially around the region the seat belt had sat. She
needed a long soak in a hot bath or she was going to be in a world of hurt come
morning. Something to worry about later. Moving helped, and the pain distracted
her from the fact two people had died today, and that they were still out there
in their icy tombs. She shook off the images, her training allowing her to
focus her mind.

The only light in the room came from the roaring
fireplace. But it was enough for her to see the numerous portraits scattered
around the wood paneling. She stopped at one of the largest of an older man
sitting on a high-backed wooden chair. He had a stern face, but his eyes
sparkled, and surrounding him were four boys. They had the gorgeous flush of
youth on their faces, and Melodee could tell that they were a happy family. No
matter how many posed photos her parents forced them into, the truth always
showed in the stillness of the picture. There was nothing real in her family.
It had taken a long time, but as a grownup Melodee had acknowledged that the
only reason her and her sister were even born was to keep up the pretense of
their parents’ cover story.

Melodee recognized one of the smaller boys.
Nathan’s eye color was unusual enough to always identify him. She sucked in a
breath as she took a closer look at the full portrait.

There were four male Sinclair’s?

Heaven help this little town; if they were all as
sexy as Nathan, they must turn it on its head. Each of the brothers wore
similar expressions and had eyes in varying shades of blue. Tearing herself
from the portrait, she turned to check on Jewel, who was still soundly
sleeping.

The men had been gone for a while and Melodee
really didn’t want to leave the baby to go find them, so she hoped they knew
what they were doing in a storm like this. As far as she could tell, this snowy
weather was common in this area, so they were probably used to it. To keep
herself from worrying, and to stretch her aching muscles, Melodee started a
series of fighting poses. She did not have names for them; she knew some came
from
Karate Kata
, others positions
and transitions from Brazilian
jujitsu
.
Wherever from, they kept her limber and flexible. And they were important
during a fight. Often, even if she wasn’t in the “fight-zone,” her training
would kick in and she would instinctively move in the right series of movements.
She loved the escape, and right now she needed to regain her equilibrium.

Nathan
stopped in the doorway of the front room. He’d left Miguel out in the snow
because he hadn’t been able to resist coming back to the cabin. It was as if
Melodee was a magnet dragging him into her force-field. The baby was asleep in
the car seat and Melodee had her eyes closed as she moved in a series of
stances around the room. She was graceful, her body forming straight, strong
lines. He thought he recognized a few of the moves from his fight training, but
hers seemed to be more complex and they flowed from one stance to the next
seamlessly. Not wanting to scare her or point out his clear tendencies to
stalk, he decided to announce his presence.

“Sorry to disturb you…”

Nathan’s husky words had her eyes flying open, and
without using her hands, she stood and straightened.

She looked uncomfortable as she faced him, having
missed his entrance.
 

“I didn’t mean to disturb you…” Nathan repeated. “What
were you doing?”

Melodee ran her hands over her hair to smooth it
down. “Just some stretches. I’m a bit stiff from the accident.”

He stepped even closer, his eyes locked on her.

“Can I have a look at your cut now?” He was very
close.

“Where’s Miguel?” she asked to distract him. And
herself.

“One of the mares is in foal.” Nathan pushed back
his messy blond hair. “Hell of a time, but he wants to stay near in case she
needs help. Luckily the old barn is well insulated and the fires are lit.”

He stepped right into her personal space. She moved
back a few inches, crossing her arms across her body. Nathan thought he was
making her uncomfortable, or it could simply be that she had a wide personal
space. Well over a foot taller than her, he bent down and reached out to her
face. Her features froze, the blue of her eyes flashing. He waited, hand
hovering just over her hairline before finally he let his fingertips descend
and glide along the deep scratch above her eyebrow.

“You’re lucky,” he said, “it doesn’t need stitches
and shouldn’t scar.” Her skin was soft, like silk as his hand glided down her
cheek. He had to physically force himself to pull away.

Melodee seemed to be holding her breath. She let
out a puff of air as she answered.
 

“One more scar wouldn’t bother me,” she finally
said.

Nathan shifted his head to the side. “Most girls
with a face like yours would be worried about a scar.” She was fucking
beautiful, her face completely devoid of makeup; she didn’t need any.

Her eyes hardened a little then; she pulled back
from him. She moved to check on the baby. Nathan could see over Melodee’s
shoulder that the little girl’s big blue eyes were open.

“Hello, little Jewel. Hang on, I’ll get you out of
there,” Melodee said.

Nathan stayed near her back as she reached in to
cradle the little girl in her arms.

“What did you call her?” Despite the quiet tone she
used, he was sure she’d just said a name.

Melodee shifted to stand, the tiny weight cradled
protectively against her body.

“I was sick of thinking of her as baby girl, so
I’ve named her Jewel. Temporarily.”

Nathan smiled. “Because of the eyes, right? You’re
a gorgeous kid, aren’t you?” He leaned into Jewel’s face and she smiled her big
gummy smile at him. His expression faltered a little. “I’d hate to think she’s
now all alone in the world. I wish I had some cell service, we really need to
contact the authorities; she must have family worried about her.” He noticed
then how pale Melodee had gone. She hadn’t liked what he’d just said and he had
no idea why.

Melodee
had to fight down the worry for Jewel. Nathan talked of the importance of
family but she knew about having a family and about being alone. And she knew
which one she preferred. But Jewel was so young and innocent. Melodee could not
fathom how she would be treated if she ended up in the foster system. People
did unfathomable things to children that were theirs by blood. It could be far
worse for those adopted in. As Jewel reached out and captured her finger,
pulling it toward her mouth so she could bite down – the softness of Melodee’s
finger easing her poor little gums – Melodee knew she could not let her go into
the system. If she did not have suitable family, she would have to keep her.
The moment she had that thought she realized how ridiculous it was. No one in
any government department would let a single, unemployed cage-fighter with no
permanent address adopt a child. Hell, they’d be flat out against letting her
adopt a hamster. She had to hope then that there was someone out there to love
Jewel.

Or she’d have to run with her, and that was no life
for a child.

Nathan’s gaze was direct, but in the flickering
firelight, Melodee could not read his emotions. “So should we try and organize
some food? Without Miguel it’s not going to be fancy, but we won’t starve.”

“I’m happy with anything edible,” she finally said.
For some reason when he stood this close to her she found it difficult to
think.

Why the hell was he wreaking such havoc upon her
equilibrium? Yes, he pretty much looked like sex on legs. But she wasn’t naïve
or innocent. She’d had a relationship of sorts for a while with another
fighter, Garrett, who was very well known in the underground scene, tall,
tatted and with muscles where they should not exist. And at no point during
their ten month fling had she felt even an ounce of the attraction that Nathan
was creating in her.

Heaven help her if he actually turned on the charm.
Or touched her.

Nathan
led them from the room. Melodee hugged Jewel close to her as she followed. It
was dark outside, but Nathan could walk this house with his eyes closed, and
the small emergency lights embedded high in the walls threw enough light to see
any major hazards. The hallway ran most of the house, so it was quite lengthy.
The closed doorways that spanned the long channel always seemed extra creepy in
the twilight. Finally they stepped into the back of the house. Nathan loved the
design of this part of the cabin. The dining room and kitchen were open plan,
extending out onto the back verandah. His Gran always said the kitchen was the
heart of a home. She’d been the best cook, and despite all of their money, had
made every meal.

Melodee look entranced by the beautiful area they
were standing in. The space was huge, and everything was dark wood paneled and
had high ceilings, with beams running along in patterned intervals. It was
stunning. There was more light in the kitchen area; another fire was lit in the
big slow burner oven. Every appliance was state of the art, the kitchen had
been designed by an award winning restaurant. It was huge, the wood themed with
a stunning multi-hued timber island bench as the centerpiece.

The gym bag was on the stainless steel bench-top
and the contents had been spread out by Nathan when he’d brought it through a
few minutes earlier. Jewel started to babble as they stepped closer and Nathan
wondered how old the baby was. He’d guess four or five months, but with the
smiling and babbling, maybe she was even older. Hell, he’d been around babies
so rarely, she could be ten months for all he knew.

“I think that soup might be safe,” Nathan said as
he shifted through the items. “And instant coffee or tea.”
 

Melodee nodded, she was hungry enough to eat
anything at this point. Nathan scooted around to the island bench and pulled
out a tall stool with a high back on it.

“I’m sure you’re sore, so you and little J can have
a seat here while I personal chef myself for you.” With a brilliant smile he
gave her a wink and went across to the slow burner stove.

Melodee
sucked in deeply. No one ever thought of her, but it was obvious that Nathan
wanted her to be comfortable while he cooked. She watched him for a moment.
What was his agenda? What did he want from her? As she crossed the large slate
tiles, she decided that she needed to get her guard back up. Nathan disarmed
her, and if she wasn’t careful it would hurt badly when his true colors were
revealed. She was done with being used and abused.