And chew.

Disappointed, she sank back in her chair. She’d been praying he liked his meat well-done, as in very well-done. Rather than torture the man, she should have just told him the truth about her culinary skills. She could see the headlines now: Katrina Delaney, World-Famous Violinist, Poisons Texas Rancher.

“Logan—” she sat straight and stared at her own plate “—I should have—”

“How ’bout another slice of meat?” He popped a bite of beef in his mouth, then scooped up some mashed potatoes and gravy that Kat knew had more lumps than a sugar bowl.

She waited for him to choke, then watched as he simply scooped up another big bite.

Stunned, she handed him the meat platter. He speared a piece of meat, then waved his fork at the bread basket. “And a couple more biscuits, too, please. It’s odd, Grandma Betty used to make biscuits as flaky as these, but she said only the women in my family had the knack.”

Anna, who had been sitting on the edge of her seat also, looked at Kat and smiled.

“Anna made them,” Kat said, grinning back at Anna.

Kat could have sworn she saw the devil dance in Logan’s eyes as he raised his eyebrows with surprise.

“No.” He picked up a biscuit and looked at it. “My Anna made biscuits?”

Eyes wide, Anna nodded.

Kat watched Logan with his daughter and she wondered if the man sitting across from her had a brother, an evil identical twin who had fired her two days ago, then irritably rehired and brought her back here today.

He winked at Anna and Kat felt her own insides do a flip. Though she hardly knew him, Kat suspected that this side of Logan Kincaid—the teasing, smiling charmer—was a side that few saw, a side that emerged only for Anna. Kat knew that for Anna—only Anna—Logan had swallowed his pride and brought her back here. Anna wasn’t happy, Logan had told her. He’d made it plain that he didn’t feel she was right for the job and that he didn’t want her here.

And yet, sometimes, Kat thought there was something in Logan’s eyes, a look that she felt more than actually saw, a look that she understood more on an instinctual, rather than conscious level; a look of sheer masculine hunger that made every feminine receptor within her scream out a warning. She’d come to Texas for adventure and romance, but romance of a spiritual nature, not in a physical, sexual sense. And when it came to Logan, Kat had no doubt that’s all there would be, the physical. The man radiated sex, and while she couldn’t deny she was attracted, she also couldn’t deny he terrified her.

To Anna’s delight, Logan made a great show of eating three more biscuits, then after dinner insisted on clearing the table and doing the dishes while Kat helped Anna into the bathtub. After she’d bathed and dried off, Kat dusted Anna with scented powder she’d brought from New York. Anna was still smiling when Kat helped her into bed.

“Do you really know how to play the violin?” Anna asked when Kat tucked the pink comforter around her.

Kat smiled. “Yes.”

“Miss Carver, my nanny when I was six, before Mrs. Lacey came, she played the violin, too, but she was so bad that Daddy wouldn’t let her play when he was home. The screeching gave him a headache.”

One more reason for Logan to resent her being here, Kat thought with a silent sigh. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll be very careful not to screech when your daddy’s around.”

“Miss Carver taught me to play a little, too,” Anna said shyly. “And Miss Goodhouse, the music teacher at Harmony Elementary said I was very good.”

Harmony Elementary? Kat had assumed that Anna had always had home tutoring. “When did you go to school in Harmony?” Kat asked.

“She went for one semester in the third grade.”

Kat turned at the sound of Logan’s voice. He stood in the doorway, his shoulders stiff, the smile he’d had earlier gone. So the evil twin was back, she thought with a quiet sigh.

“We’ll go over Anna’s lessons and schedule in a few minutes,” he said, moving into the room. “I made some coffee, help yourself.”

Kat was bright enough to know when she was being dismissed. She said good-night to Anna, then went to search for a mug in the kitchen. She never drank coffee, but she needed something to hold onto when she and Logan went over Anna’s lessons. She dumped in milk and sugar, hoping to hide the taste, but when she sipped the hot liquid she wrinkled her nose at the still-bitter flavor.

She was sitting at the kitchen table when he came in a few minutes later. He poured himself a cup of coffee, then turned and leaned back against the counter.

“We haven’t had a chance to talk about Anna yet,” he said, holding her gaze. “About her disability.”

Kat had the distinct feeling he’d expected her to look away when he’d used the word “disability.” She knew there were people, a lot of people, uncomfortable being around, or even discussing the disabled. Based on his blank expression and flat voice, Kat had the feeling Logan himself wasn’t comfortable.

“She was the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen,” he said quietly. “A little button nose, big blue eyes, pink cheeks. Everything about her was perfect. She said her first word when she was ten months, took her first step when she was a year.” He stared at his coffee cup for a moment, then finally continued. “JoAnn—Anna’s mother—and I didn’t really notice any problems until Anna was almost four. She just seemed lazier than normal, sometimes even refusing to walk, or crying if we made her. She couldn’t seem to keep her balance and oftentimes she’d stumble or fall. When we took her into a specialist in Houston, he found a tumor in her spine. He operated, but there was nerve damage to the spinal cord that affected her lower body movement. She has partial feeling in her legs, but no motor control.”

Kat tried to picture Anna at four, all the doctors and the hospital, the surgery. How scared she must have been. “And she’s been in a wheelchair since then?”

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