Nathan's Child Read online

  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 fisherman. 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-sh
irts, 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.

  Carin mustered her own charm and wits and tried to answer his questions. All the while, though, her gaze went back to Nathan and Gaby. Gaby had her hand on his sleeve now, gesturing expansively with her other hand toward his photos, then spreading her palms and giving him an irritated look which wasn’t hard to read.

  And where are the rest of them? she seemed to ask.

  Nathan’s shoulders hunched. His spine stiffened. He said something, then shook his head fiercely.

  Whatever he said, Gaby didn’t agree with. That was obvious from her stance, from her stiff shoulders, from her waggling finger under his nose.

  Nathan shoved her finger away and, clearly annoyed, pushed away from the wall and dipped his head toward where Lacey was standing with Mariah and Rhys. Then his gaze flickered briefly in Carin’s direction. Gabriela’s gaze followed his. She shook her head, then began arguing again. She looked annoyed, too, now. Whatever point she’d tried to make, Nathan had rejected.

  He shook his head, then turned and walked away, leaving her alone as he headed back toward Carin.

  Determinedly Gaby followed. “You’re going to regret it, Nathan. It’s a terrific opportunity.”

  Nathan ignored her. A muscle was ticking in his jaw. “You okay?” he asked Carin, as if she were the one under attack at the moment.

  “Fine.”

  “See. She’s fine,” Gaby said. “She’d want—” Gaby began.

  Nathan whirled on her. “Don’t,” he said fiercely. “Don’t involve her.”

  Gaby’s mouth was open. The words—whatever they were—were on the tip of her tongue. Carin could almost hear them. But Nathan had made his own point.

  Gaby pressed her lips into a firm line. Her expression grew shuttered, and she turned to look at Nathan. “You’re making it hard to be your agent.”

  He scowled. “So quit.”

  “I don’t want to quit,” Gaby said patiently. “I love your work. I love what you’ve done, what you could do!”

  Nathan let out a harsh impatient breath. He shot back his cuff and looked at his watch. “You’ll miss your plane, Gaby.”

  “Think about it.”

  “I’ve told you—”

  “Think about it. And call me when you get back to the Bahamas.” She smiled suddenly, then leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. Then she turned her gaze on Carin. “It’s been a great show,” she said. “You two work well together.” Her gaze flicked back to Nathan. “But there’s only so much you can do on an island. You need to get back to work, Nathan.”

  And then with a waggling wave of her fingers, she was gone.

  “Where does she want you to go?” Carin asked.

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m not going.” He didn’t even look at her. He was scanning the crowd. “There’s Finn MacCauley and his wife. Finn’s a terrific photographer—and a good friend of Rhys’s. Come on. I’ll introduce you.”

  And that was the end of whatever Gaby had in mind.

  Finn MacCauley and his wife Izzy had a pair of twins who were just a bit younger than Lacey. Izzy promptly invited Lacey over to meet them the following afternoon.

  “We’re only here one more day,” Carin said. “I thought we’d go somewhere.”

  “Drop her off,” Izzy said. “You and Nathan go somewhere.”

  “We don’t need—”

  “Of course you do. Every couple with kids needs time alone together,” Izzy said flatly. “I know. We have four. And when you come to pick her up we’ll have a barbecue. I’ll invite Gib and Chloe—they’re here somewhere.” She stood on tiptoe, looking around, and not seeing them, shrugged. “And Sam and Josie. They’re in the city for a week. It’ll be fun.”

  Steamrollered, all Carin could do was ask, “Who are Gib and Chloe and Sam and Josie?”

  “Gib’s a photographer. Finn’s competition,” Izzy added dryly. “He and Finn are always one-upping each other.” Izzy laughed. “They’re actually best friends, but the rivalry seems to spur them to greater achievements. And Sam’s my ex-fiancé. Josie’s his wife.”

  Carin blinked. She could just about swallow the “best friends/competitors” notion. But her mind balked at Izzy so cavalierly inviting her ex-fiancé to come to a barbecue. Something of her astonishment must have been evident on her face because Izzy laughed.

  “We’re good friends, Sam and I. We were always g
ood friends. Unlike Finn and I.” She shot a wry—and adoring—look at her husband who was deep in conversation with Nathan. Then she put a hand on Carin’s arm. “Finn says I simply push people, and you don’t have to agree. But it would be fun for the girls to meet Lacey. And who knows, maybe we’ll get to the Bahamas again. Finn goes on shoots all over. Maybe sometime the kids and I could come.”

  “That would be fun,” Carin agreed. She didn’t want Izzy MacCauley to think her unfriendly. “And as for tomorrow, I—I’ll talk to Nathan.”

  She didn’t really want to be “alone together” with Nathan at all. But she did want to know what Gaby had talked to him about. Was Gaby pressuring him to take an assignment? It seemed likely.

  Despite what he’d said about staying on Pelican Cay, they all knew he couldn’t stay forever.

  But there was no time to pursue the matter further. Not that night. They fell into bed exhausted as soon as they got home.

  In the morning Douglas took all of them out to brunch to celebrate the success of the opening. He made a point of seating himself between Carin and Lacey, talking with Carin about her work, about her plans for the shop, about what she’d like to do next, and talking to Lacey about her photography.

  That some of her photos had been in the show last night had delighted Lacey. But clearly what delighted her more was having a grandfather who doted on her, having uncles who teased her, an aunt who braided her hair, cousins who followed her around like ducklings.

  Lacey was blossoming. She’d always been an outgoing child, but sometimes Carin thought Lacey tried too hard, displaying an almost overeager need to belong to whatever group she was in. Perhaps because she wasn’t sure she did belong?

  Carin hadn’t considered that before. She didn’t like considering it now.

  Except she could see a difference here. With Douglas and his sons and their families, Lacey did belong. There was acceptance. No need to prove herself. She was part of this family.

  Douglas turned his attention from his granddaughter to Nathan. “Heading back for the island now?”