A Child In Need

Nick’s hold on his rigid little body tightened even more. Harry was now staring straight at Shanni, a trickle of sweat running down his forehead, and Shanni gave an involuntary shiver.

‘It’s gone, Harry,’ she said softly, holding his hands and not letting her eyes leave his, forcing him to keep looking at her. ‘We’re with you. You’re safe. Nick and I are right here. You’re with grown-ups who love you. There’s nothing to be afraid of.’

‘I…’ It was a wavering sob.

‘Nothing will touch you while you’re with us,’ Shanni said gently, flicking an upward glance at Nick. ‘I promise. That’s what we’re here for. To keep you safe.’

And-slowly-almost unbelievably-Harry nodded. Shanni saw his body slacken within Nick’s grasp, the awful rigidity fading with the terror.

And then-instantly-his little body slumped against Nick, his eyes closed and he slipped back into the safety of sleep, leaving Nick holding him as if he’d never let him go.

It took three of four minutes before either of them moved. Shanni was aware that she was shaking. She was warm enough-she was wearing very non-sexy long flannelette pyjamas-but Harry’s terror had left its shadows. It was still real and palpable in her heart.

She looked at Nick, and she knew he felt the same. And then some.

‘He’s safely asleep,’ she whispered at last. ‘He hardly woke up. Just long enough to be reassured. He probably won’t remember any of this tomorrow.’

‘I couldn’t get through to him,’ Nick said, shaken to the core. ‘I tried.’

‘It’s a trick you learn in kindergarten training,’ she said. ‘Never be gentle with a terrified child. Be direct. Bossy, even.’

He gave the ghost of a grin. ‘You were certainly that.’

‘Ask my family. Bossiness is my speciality.’ She rose, resplendent in her pink pyjamas with woolly sheep all over them, and Nick blinked at the vision she created. Amazing! ‘I guess…I’ll go back to bed now,’ she said. ‘If you slip him down under the covers it’s my guess he’ll keep right on sleeping.’

‘Yes.’ Nick looked down at Harry’s mop of unruly fair hair, and his mouth twisted into a grimace. There was a part of him that really didn’t want to let him go, Shanni thought as she watched. Ever…

He’d been hurt himself, she knew, and she was starting to figure out how badly. Nick had been down this road before, and maybe there hadn’t been a Shanni or a Nick or a Wendy for him.

‘He’s been hit in the past.’

‘Yes.’

‘Were you beaten as a child?’ she asked-and waited.

For a long minute she thought he wouldn’t answer. This was a closet that had long been locked, she guessed, never to be reopened, and here she was probing where it hurt most. But if the closet stayed locked, what was inside could well stay there for ever.

‘I don’t…’ He stopped, as if he didn’t know what else he could possibly say. Instead he did as Shanni suggested, letting Harry slip down onto the pillows. He adjusted his covers, touched his hair lightly with his strong fingers and then turned to face Shanni.

This was ridiculous. He was wearing boxer shorts-nothing else-and he was bare-chested and felt naked. And she was rumpled from sleep, her curls flying everywhere, and she was standing before him in those ridiculous sheepish pyjamas.

And suddenly he had to tell her. He had to tell someone.

No. He had to tell her. Explain why it was impossible for him to love.

‘Yes,’ he said harshly. ‘I was beaten. Badly. The last time…’

‘The last time?’

‘The last time my mother decided she wanted me. My stepfather didn’t. He gave me a pretty bad time before I was taken away.’

How old were you then?

‘Seven.’

It was as much as he could say, but she needed to know no more.

‘Nick…’

‘Don’t you dare feel sorry for me,’ he said roughly-more roughly than he’d intended. ‘That was twenty-five years ago, and if I’m not over it now I never will be.’

‘I don’t think you can ever be over something like that.’

‘Like being mistreated? Lots of kids are.’

‘Like not being loved,’ she whispered. ‘Kids can bounce back from a bad time-but if they don’t think they’re loved…’

‘Harry’ll be okay.’

She hadn’t been talking about Harry-but now she turned to look down at the little boy, following Nick’s gaze. Even though the king-sized bed had been split into two, Harry’s share of the bed still seemed absurdly large for one so small.

‘I guess…’ she smiled and turned back to Nick ‘…if you stay on his side…’

‘Hey, I’m committing myself to nothing here,’

‘You’ve already committed,’ she told him. ‘You know it. It’s scaring you stupid, but you can no sooner walk away from him now than you could fly.’

‘I can’t adopt him.’ Heck, what was she saying?

‘I know that. Harry knows that.’ Her smile softened, and suddenly her hands came out and took his. ‘But it doesn’t stop either of us from knowing that you’re committed to loving him. Right up to here.’ She did her tiptoes thing again-but this time she reached up and kissed him on the forehead.

‘And we think you’re just wonderful.’ Her voice was husky with emotion. ‘A vote’s been taken, Magistrate Daniels. The court’s come to a verdict, and the verdict is fantastic.’

It was a gamble, and she knew exactly what she was doing. Shanni stood absolutely still, her hands still holding Nick’s, and her heart seemed to stop beating. The whole world seemed to hold its breath.

She’d laid her heart on the line here, she thought dazedly. She could do no more than that. Nick might not want commitment but he had it-right here in his hands.

And he stared down at her with his dark, fathomless eyes, and she knew that his heart was torn, just as hers was.

But hers had come to a decision.

‘Nick,’ she whispered, and her heart reached out for him. ‘Nick, love…’

‘Shanni…’

It was too much. She stood in his grasp, in her absurd pyjamas with her heart on her sleeve and all the love and compassion and care in the world right there in her eyes.

A man would have to be inhuman to resist something so lovely. So utterly, wonderfully desirable.

This was not sensible. But nothing tonight was sensible.

With a groan that felt almost like the breaking of chains, Nick took her into his arms and kissed her.

CHAPTER NINE

SHANNI had been kissed before. Many times. Starting from when she was about twelve or maybe even before. Mary had been right when she’d told Nick the McDonald girls were desirable and boys were interested from the time they could walk. So she knew what to expect. Or she thought she did. What she got was-different.

It was Nick.

She’d felt this force fleetingly, in the car the night they’d mock-kissed outside the farmhouse, but not like this. This was like a zillion volts charging right through her, starting somewhere about her toes, coursing straight through from her lips, into Nick’s body and back to her again.

This was…right. This was how it should be, she thought wonderingly. It was as if their worlds had been heading along two different paths until this moment, but now the paths had converged. Ended. Reached their