Logan watched her through his eyelashes. Hana caught him looking and sighed. He’d inherited his mother’s emotional radar which homed in on trouble like a heat seeking missile. “How are you feeling?” she asked, wanting to distract him as she sat Phoenix upright and patted her back.
Logan’s eyes narrowed; his attention drawn to the flash of porcelain skin peeking from beneath her shirt. “Horny,” he replied. A smirk lifted one side of his upper lip.
Hana laughed. “Want me to call a nurse for you?”
Logan faked indignation. “You’ll do,” he said. “Get over here wahine.”
Hana rose and straightened her shirt to cover her breast. Phoenix wriggled over her shoulder, sucking her own hand with noisy gusto. Hana dipped to kiss Logan, pleased to see the blood-stained tissue looked no worse than it h
