Ethan's Daughter. Rachel Brimble

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      She carried the needle and thread to the counter and poured boiling water into a saucer before submerging her makeshift suture equipment. Pretending not to feel his gaze on her, she took a clean dish towel from the pile beside the kettle and filled it with ice from the freezer.

      “Here, press this firmly to the wound. If you can, make a fist. It’ll be freezing, but the number the area, the better. I’m going to check on Daisy.”

      “Leah...”

      “Yes?”

      His eyes searched hers before he shook his head. “Nothing.”

      Leah relaxed her tense shoulders. He wanted to talk to her; wanted to trust her. She was certain of it. That alone gave her reason to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. He was clearly nervous about something, and if she could, she’d help him. “I’ll be right back.”

      As she walked into the hallway, she released her held breath. So the man was in trouble. The question was, did he have the courage and confidence to let her help him?

      * * *

      BY THE TIME Leah had stitched and bandaged his hand, it neared nine before Ethan managed to get Daisy into bed. He left her bedroom door slightly ajar and slowly walked to the top of the stairs. The smooth jazz he’d put on the stereo filtered toward him, along with the smells of the Chinese food he’d felt compelled to order. The chink of glasses and then the pop of a cork meant Leah had found the wine rack and opened the bottle he’d asked her to pour.

      The truth was he needed her gone, but how was he supposed to do that without further rousing her suspicions? Her professional interest was obvious every time she looked at him. The woman was a nurse, for crying out loud. What were the chances? Would she be duty-bound to call the police?

      It was bad enough that Daisy had walked out of the house without him noticing, but for a nurse to find her? He wouldn’t be surprised if the authorities came knocking. He glanced toward Daisy’s room. She refused to tell him why she’d wandered off the way she did, but at least it had been before Anna, his ex-wife, had turned up on his doorstep after a five-year absence. The woman had lost it the moment he’d refused to give her the money she demanded from him.

      If he threw Leah out without at least the offer of food and drink after everything she’d done tonight, he was pretty sure she’d be calling the cops the minute she was out the door.

      Not that he’d entirely blame her.

      He had no choice other than to play nice if he had any chance of keeping silent about what had happened before Leah brought Daisy home.

      He descended the stairs and walked into the living room. He lived in luxury. His earnings were good from his writing, his notoriety under control. The last thing he wanted was his name in the press for all the wrong reasons. He’d come to the Cove with Daisy after Anna left them, and it was the best move he’d ever made—for both himself and his daughter.

      Sure, he was a recluse. Not many people knew, or cared, that a bestselling novelist lived in this small coastal town. Whenever he decided to venture into the town center, the residents never bothered him. Daisy had friends. What more did they need than each other? He liked their life and had every intention of keeping it to just the two of them so Daisy never again suffered the pain she’d felt when her mother walked away.

      But now Anna was back...and in a hell of a lot of trouble.

      Leah stood by the window, staring out into the darkness.

      He studied the back of her from head to heel. Her height and petite frame were deceiving. The woman was a force to be reckoned with. Her capability, her care and passion for her work, showed in the astute way she studied him, Daisy, his home and every damn word he said. Leah was not going to let this situation go, plus she’d already said she’d be back every day until his wound was healed.

      And how was he supposed to stop that from happening?

      “The rain’s stopped.” She turned and walked to the coffee table, picking up a second glass of wine. “Here. Not that wine is a particularly good idea after the painkillers you’ve taken.”

      “I’ll live.” He walked toward her and took the glass with his good hand. “Thanks.”

      “I’ve left the takeout on the kitchen counter. I’m usually a tray-on-the-lap kind of girl...” She glanced around the room and sighed. “But my living room doesn’t look like this. My house is kind of more open, friendly.”

      “Whereas mine is closed and unfriendly?”

      She shrugged unapologetically. “Maybe.”

      He laughed and the sound filled the room with alien warmth. He gestured with a nod toward the couch. “Have a seat and I’ll get the food. I’ll even get some trays. I’m feeling kind of crazy.”

      She raised her eyebrows. “What about your hand?”

      “I’ll manage.”

      As she walked to the couch, Ethan went into the kitchen and grabbed two trays, pushing them under his arm, then took some cutlery from the drawer and the bag of takeout from the counter. Easy. He smiled. His sudden, unrehearsed burst of laughter had taken him by surprise. Leah had taken him by surprise. He wasn’t dumb enough to think her attentiveness was anything more than professional caring, but still, it was nice that the nurse amused—and attracted—him.

      Besides, she was a beautiful woman. Interesting.

      But there was no way he was going down that complicated road. His priorities were Daisy and his work. That was more than enough.

      “Do you need a hand?” Leah called from the living room, then laughed. “Sorry.”

      He smiled as he joined her. “I’m fine. And dinner is served.”

      “Great, I’m starving. Is Daisy asleep?”

      “Out like a light. Her adventure tonight wore her out.” He placed the trays and food on the coffee table. “Thanks again for—”

      “Hey. No more gratitude. You’ve thanked me enough.” Leah unpacked the food. “What would you like? I’ll dish up while you figure out how you’re going to explain to me what happened here tonight.”

      He narrowed his eyes at her back. Clearly, the woman was going nowhere until she had some answers. He reached for his wineglass and took a sip. “There’s not much to tell.”

      She passed him a loaded plate and a fork, her gaze steady. “Nice try, but you failed the return abysmally. Try again.”

      Turning, she began filling the second plate. Ethan appreciated her glossy hair, the exposed nape of her neck. She was someone he hadn’t expected or asked to turn up in his life, but she was here and deserved some honesty. He cleared his throat. “My ex-wife was here. She left just before you arrived.”

      Leah stilled for a moment, before sliding onto the couch next to him, pulling her tray onto her lap and sipping at her wine. “I see. That must’ve been the woman who ran past me and Daisy on the hill. I’m surprised Daisy didn’t recognize her.”

      Immediate nausea rose in Ethan’s СКАЧАТЬ