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He smiled softly. “This is kind of crazy, isn’t it?”
“That’s definitely one way to put it.” She inhaled a long breath and turned her detective skills on full blast. “But telling me what happened might help level out the crazy.”
His eyes shadowed and he shifted his focus to his hand. “Doesn’t that part come after I put Daisy to bed?”
She stared at his profile. He sounded on edge, but not snappishly so. Did he want to tell her? Did he need to tell her? “You can tell me what happened, you know. It doesn’t mean I’m going to freak out. I’ve seen all there is to see working in the ER.”
He raised his head. “It would be better all round if you stitched me up and forgot about me and Daisy.”
“I don’t think I can do that.”
His jaw tightened, but his gaze seemed to plead with her. “You have to. It’s for the best.”
“For who? You? Me? Daisy? Whatever you’re hiding is clearly dangerous, a threat to both you and her. I’m not prying. I care, okay? You look so...”
“What?” His eyes darkened with challenge. “Angry? Pissed? Afraid?”
She swallowed against the dryness in her throat. “Alone. You look alone.”
The silence stretched and Leah’s heart beat hard as his study darted over her face, lingered a moment at her mouth. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on so I can decide what the hell I’m going to do about it.
When it was clear no revelation would be forthcoming anytime soon, she forced her concentration to his hand. There was something about this man and his daughter that had caught her. When she looked into their eyes, something unfathomable lingered. Almost as though she was meant to walk along that beach, meant to meet them...which was insane.
But she was still here. Still tending, nurturing, caring. And she would continue to do that until her duty was done. Walking away wasn’t an option.
She gently lowered his hand and eased back the dishcloth. “This is one nasty gash, but I’m going to do the best I can. I need you to walk with me to the sink. Okay?”
Supporting his injured hand, Leah cupped his elbow with her other hand, and together they progressed slowly to the sink. She turned on the tap. “This might sting a little.”
Carefully, she eased his hand forward, and the lukewarm water washed away the congealing blood to reveal the cut beneath. She leaned closer. “Good, the wound isn’t as deep as I thought. I can stitch you up, but the dressings are going to need changing every day until I can remove the stitching. I don’t want to risk infection, so I’ll pop back here after work tomorrow, if you like.”
“Here?”
The panic in his voice jolted her gaze to his. She sighed. “Yes, here, Mr. James. You’re my patient now and I’m willing to treat you at home...if I decide your reasons for not going to the hospital are reasonable and there’s no danger to your daughter.”
His jaw tightened. “There’s no danger to Daisy.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m her father and I won’t let anything happen to her.”
“I found her on the beach, Mr. James. I’m going to need more than that.”
“Ethan.”
Leah frowned. “What?”
His gaze bored into hers. “I think we’re past surnames, don’t you?”
Leah softly smiled. “I guess we are. Leah.”
His focus lingered on her face so intensely, she looked again to the wound, steadfastly fighting the sudden warmth in her stomach. He wasn’t to be trusted or liked...at least not until she knew the full story and was convinced he had no part in causing the violence that had clearly occurred before she arrived. He was a patient. A father to a young child, no less.
She guided his hand back under the water, tightening her grip slightly when he sucked in a breath. She gently traced the area around the wound with her finger. “Nice and steady. That’s it. Right, that should do it.” She turned off the tap and pulled some kitchen paper from the roll by the sink. She patted his hand dry. “Okay, back to the table while I sterilize a needle and some thread.”
She helped him sit down, inching up his elbow to keep the wound elevated, then opened the sewing kit and extracted a sharp needle and some thread. She studied both before glancing at Ethan.
He raised his eyebrows. “Will that work all right?”
Always fill the patient with confidence and ease. She plastered on a smile. “Absolutely. This will be no problem at all.”
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 throat. “Daisy saw her?”
“I assume so.”
Ethan closed his eyes. “Then it’s just as well she hardly remembers her.” He opened his eyes, his anger at Anna resurfacing. “Daisy was only two when her mother left.”
“I see.”
“Anyway, she freaked when I started bleeding. Until that point, she was quite happy to wave a knife in my face.”
Leah’s brow furrowed before she turned to her food and speared some chicken. “You said she left when Daisy was two. Hasn’t she seen Daisy at all in between?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Ethan frowned. “Excuse me?”
Her cheeks flushed. “Sorry.” She briefly closed her eyes, before opening them again. “I just mean it’s unusual for a mother not to have contact with her child. Unless...” She pushed her glasses farther onto her nose. “Is she dangerous? Your ex-wife?”
“No.” Ethan slumped his shoulders and pushed his tray onto the table, his appetite vanishing. “At least, not until tonight. As far as I know.”
“I see.” She waved her fork toward his plate. “Eat something. You need food in your stomach.”
He dutifully picked up the tray and scooped up some rice and chicken. As he chewed, he watched her do the same and wondered what was going through her mind. He could assume, from her posture, that she was calm, but the faint blush on her cheeks could indicate unease. He swallowed and pushed on with what he’d decided to tell her. Nothing more, nothing less.
“I haven’t seen or heard from Anna in five years. I have her address and send her pictures of Daisy from time to time, copies of her report cards, that sort of thing. Anna never replies.” He clenched his jaw. “So, when she turned up here tonight, I knew she had to be in some sort of trouble. But she’s gone now and she won’t be back.”
“Because you refused to give her what she wanted?”
“Yes. I don’t want her near Daisy in that state. I don’t want her here, period.”
“You must’ve liked her at some time. You married her, after all.”
Ethan shrugged as better memories, good memories, surfaced. Of the days when he and Anna had been dating; of their wedding day, with Daisy already safely cocooned in her mother’s womb. He sighed. “Sure. I loved her more than any man should ever love a woman. Unfortunately, my life at the keyboard and my following success, along with Anna’s role change from model to mother, meant she and I saw our future together differently.” He sighed. “She didn’t exactly take to motherhood. Even if she hadn’t walked out, our divorce was inevitable.” He returned his tray to the table, picked up his wine. “I just wish Daisy would’ve featured somewhere in Anna’s plans.”
Leah’s hazel eyes bored into his before she blinked and took a sip of wine. “But she’s Daisy’s mum. If, eventually, she wants back in her life—”
“She’ll have to earn her way back. It wasn’t Daisy who brought Anna here tonight, and I want no part of whatever she’s gotten herself into. She chose to walk away from us. Her mess is her own.”
“I see. Eat.”
Leah turned back to her food and they ate in silence, each bite like sandpaper in Ethan’s mouth. He refused to tell her any more. She knew enough to accept that he had the situation under control. She could eat her food, drink her wine and leave.
As much as he hated treating her that way, it would be better for both of them in the end. The next problem was convincing her he could change his own bandages and snip out a few stitches when the time came.
She cleared her throat. “Don’t you think you should at least let the police know what happened here? In case she comes back?”
Ethan clenched his jaw. “No, absolutely not.”
“I’m reading between the lines, but how can you be so sure she won’t knock on your door again? Won’t want to see Daisy?”
He put down his fork and slid his tray onto the table. “The woman has no care for her daughter. No care for anything but herself.”
