Читать книгу Hannah Gets A Husband - Julianna Morris - Страница 11

“Does this hurt?” Ross asked, probing down her leg.

A breath hissed out between Hannah’s teeth. She felt awfully funny…kind of hot and tingly in some very private places. “Really, I’m fine,” she assured him. “You don’t have to do this.”

Typically male, he ignored her, moving on to the other leg. When he reached her ankle and lifted it, she flinched, unable to hide a twinge of pain.

“Oh, you’re fine, all right,” he muttered.

Hannah stuck her tongue out at Ross’s bent head. Know-it-all. So what if she’d gotten hurt? It wasn’t any concern of his. “Don’t fuss. It’s just a slight sprain.”

He slipped her shoe off to examine the injury, supporting her leg on his thigh. His strong fingers circled her foot and Hannah bit her lip to keep from making a sound.

She’d read about sexual attraction, of course, but she’d never felt anything like this before today. A few shots of quickening pulse and sighs were the extent of her experience; if anything, she’d assumed her sex drive was virtually nonexistent.

But noooo.

Along comes Ross McCoy, fully grown, to prove she’s no different than all the other hormone-driven women on the planet.

Drat Ross anyway.

What business did he have coming back here and making her react this way? It had to be that mid-thirties sexual peak thing, starting a couple years early.

“I don’t see any swelling,” he said finally. “But I’d better carry you back, just in case.”

“That isn’t necessary,” Hannah returned hastily. She could just imagine the whispers and smirks if she got carried back into town after running out of the restaurant in a huff.

“Of course it’s necessary.” Ross turned his head and grinned at her. “Besides, think how gallant and romantic it’ll look. Everyone will be convinced I’m crazy about you. By the way, start thinking whether you want to get married in Anchorage, or here in Quicksilver.”

Arrogant wretch.

Hannah glowered; he just assumed she’d fall in with his plans and marry him. “We’re not getting married, Ross,” she said, jerking her foot away from his grasp. “I am not that desperate for a husband.”

“Boy, talk about insulting,” he returned good-naturedly. “Are you saying a woman would have to be really really desperate to marry me?”

“Listen to me.” She tapped her finger on his chest for emphasis. “I may not be gorgeous or well traveled, but you can’t order me around. Look somewhere else for your convenient wife.”

Ross blinked, astonished. “You’re very pretty, Hannah. Don’t you know that?”

“Whatever. But you’re not listening to me.”

“I am listening.” Ross captured Hannah’s face between his hands and gazed intently into her eyes; this was one battle he intended to win. “I fought too hard for Jamie to give up now. Doreen walked out when she was two months pregnant, and it’s been nothing but hell since then. It was over a year before I could even see my son.”

Idly Ross noticed Hannah’s eyes had turned the deep, turbulent color of a storm, all traces of green erased by inner turmoil. He was making a shameless play for her sympathy, but he’d deal with his conscience later. Right now he had to convince her.

“Honeycomb, if anyone is desperate, it’s me,” he whispered urgently. “Jamie has nightmares and he’s withdrawn. You can help him—I could tell right off by the way he took to you.”

“I’ll…think about it,” Hannah said slowly.

A rush of adrenaline made him want to push, make her say yes. Yet he hadn’t helped build a successful business by driving a deal too hard and fast. He’d just stay in Quicksilver for as long as it took. With Hannah’s soft heart, it shouldn’t take more than a couple of days to make her relent. And she couldn’t avoid him, not in such a small town.

“Okay, I’ll take you back to the restaurant.”

She gasped and clutched an arm around his neck when he swung her into his arms. “Ross, I’m too heavy. Put me down.”

“Heavy?” He shook his head in amazement. “You have the oddest ideas about yourself. You don’t weigh much more than Jamie.”

It wasn’t strictly true, but she didn’t weigh a whole lot. Funny, he’d always thought of Hannah as being the sturdy, homemaker type, but he rather liked the sensation of holding her slim body, soft and yielding against his harder angles. And though he’d initially regretted his proposal, a conviction of rightness came over him.

Yup, this was the best thing he could do. Hannah Liggett didn’t have a chance. Even if she managed to say no to him, he didn’t think anyone could say no to Jamie.

Hannah put her head against Ross’s shoulder, resigned—if not happy—about being carried back to town like a silent-movie heroine.

What would everyone think?

Actually, she’d bet Ross was right. Depending on how they handled things, everyone in Quicksilver would think they’d always had a secret passion for one another. And Ten Penny had thought he was checking her out…not that Hannah believed Ross had actually been ogling her body. It could work.

Pooh.

Here she was, falling into line the way Ross expected. For years she’d stood up to brothers who towered over her, telling them when to get home and what chores to do. She’d kept her father’s books and refused to let him pad charitable deductions on his tax returns. She’d even stared down a bear, intent on tasting her fresh-baked blueberry pie. But Ross McCoy had turned her into a quivering, compliant simpleton in two short hours.

Hannah moaned and buried her face deeper into his shirt. She had to be out of her mind to consider marrying the man. A sane woman would start running and never look back.

“Hannah?” Ross sounded alarmed and he stopped dead in his tracks. “What’s wrong? Is something else hurting?”

“Nothing you can fix.”

Well, he could fix some of it, but he wasn’t interested. Her sexual appeal obviously rated about zero in his book.

Ross shrugged the shoulder beneath her cheek, encouraging her to look up. “Talk to me. I can’t do anything if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Hannah glanced up at his worried frown and sighed. Even as a boy, he’d had an overdeveloped sense of responsibility—so serious and intense. He didn’t understand why she was upset, but he wanted to fix it anyway.

“Hannah?”

“If you keep standing in the middle of the street, you’ll get run over,” she said practically, avoiding the real question altogether. After all, he couldn’t help it if she wasn’t sexy.

Ross scanned the so-called street and lifted one eyebrow. “Run down by what? A moose?”

“It could happen.”

“Not in a million years.” Nevertheless, he started walking again, covering the distance to the restaurant in less than a minute—downtown Quicksilver measured just over a hundred feet long.

“What’s wrong?” Edgar Liggett exclaimed, throwing open the door for them.

“Nothing, Dad.”

“Hannah turned her ankle and I felt like carrying her,” Ross said calmly. He looked down at Hannah and smiled, enjoying the defiant sparkle in her eyes. “She’s such a cozy armful, you can’t blame me for taking advantage.”

“Hot damn, didn’t I tell you?” cackled Ten Penny. “I could tell by the way he was gawkin’ at her. That boy’s got one thing on his mind, and it ain’t drinkin’ no cup of coffee.”

“See?” Ross whispered. “They aren’t laughing. They think I’m hot for you.”

“Which we both know isn’t true,” she hissed back, squirming in an attempt to gain her freedom. “Let me down.”

Instead, Ross sat down himself, holding her securely on his lap. Her squirming continued until he pinched her bottom and muttered a “Stop that” command in her ear. As for being hot for Hannah—all that feminine wriggling was having a predictable effect on his body. He needed her to stay put and hide the evidence from everyone else…though it was like using gunpowder to put out a fire.

“You get everything straight with my girl?” asked Edgar Liggett, his expression turning rather fierce.

Hmmm.

Hannah might claim her father wasn’t protective, but Ross didn’t appreciate the way Edgar was examining him. He guessed it was one thing for a father to talk about his daughter getting married, and quite another to face the man who might be taking that married daughter to bed.

“Oh, we’re pretty straight about everything, Mr. Liggett. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

The look Hannah shot him wasn’t exactly friendly. “I’m still thinking about it, darling. Remember?”

Her darling didn’t sound nearly as affectionate as his “sweetheart,” so he leaned forward. “Work with me on this, okay?” he murmured. “You’re blowing the ‘in love since we were kids’ act. Trust me.”

“You’re enjoying this too much to be trusted.” Hannah’s whisper sounded more like a growl and he couldn’t help chuckling.

Well, hell. He was having fun. Maybe he should have taken Hannah’s temper into account before proposing, but the die was cast and he didn’t really care. A woman needed some sass to get by in Alaska. “I’m just trying to be convincing.”

“Ha.”

She squirmed some more and Ross winced as her bottom pressed against the most vulnerable part of his anatomy.

“You planning on a long engagement?” called one of the ladies in the corner.

“Not very long.” Ross answered before Hannah could say something different. He looked around and saw his son curled up asleep on a chair—at the moment Jamie looked a lot more peaceful than his father. “We’re thinking about flying down to Nevada,” he said with sudden inspiration. “You can get married in a hour in Reno. There’s no waiting period.”

Hannah gasped and dug an elbow into his ribs.

No pain, no gain.

“We’re going tomorrow,” he continued, gritting his teeth. “I don’t want to give Hannah a chance to change her mind. Isn’t that right, Honeycomb?”

“You, you…” she stuttered, plainly searching for something potent enough to fling at him.

He’d gone too far and he knew it, but he was truly a desperate man. Releasing his hold on Hannah’s hip, Ross cupped the back of her head and pulled her into a kiss. Whatever expletive she’d been planning got smothered by his mouth.

“If that don’t beat all,” Ten Penny crowed. “I always knowed that boy had a fire in his belly. It’s them quiet ones you gotta watch out for.”

“Mmmrmph” was all Hannah could manage through the assault on her lips. She should have said something suitably scathing, but her thoughts were getting mushy. But it wasn’t her fault; this was practically her first kiss, and none of the others had been so…intimate.

Ross’s expertise was obvious; even in her muddled state she recognized it. His lips moved with supple, mobile strength across her mouth, coaxing and asking for something she didn’t understand. The depth of her own inexperience cut unhappily through her mind and she froze.

Did Ross know? Did he realize how little she knew about men? Life in Quicksilver might have been sheltered from a romantic standpoint, but Hannah knew a lot of men wanted a woman with a certain level of experience.

Ross shifted, pulling her into full contact with his body, and she sucked in a breath. Her breasts ached and her nipples tightened like they did when she jumped into the shower and the water was too cold.

So, that’s what it feels like, Hannah thought in wonderment…and some annoyance. Ross was playing dirty, and he shouldn’t be allowed to get away with such a sneaky tactic. If she decided to marry him, it wouldn’t be because of some fake seduction scene, staged for everyone’s benefit. Threading her fingers through his hair, Hannah pulled. Hard.

His kiss turned into a growl, but he released her.

Hannah took advantage of the moment and scooted from Ross’s lap. She wondered at the pained expression in his face, but only for a second.

“Did you get enough to eat?” she asked brightly…and to no one in particular. The small discomfort from her ankle erased any lingering mental fog. It served her right for not watching where she stepped.

“Mighty tasty chili,” said Joe, who belched and patted his stomach. “Me an’ the missus better be headin’ home, though. Gotta break in that new mattress.”

“Oh, Joe.”

His bride let out a playful giggle and flipped the end of her feather boa at him. For an instant the years peeled away and Hannah glimpsed the audacious woman she must have been, braving the Alaska frontier with nothing but her personal attributes to support her. It wasn’t the choice Hannah would have made, but Ten Penny was a law unto herself.

Though they’d been temporarily distracted, everyone began grinning and nudging one another. A marriage proposal was one thing, but they had a real live chivaree to attend. After more than seventy years of staying single in a territory where men outnumbered women, nobody was going to cheat Ten Penny out of a traditional wedding night.

In short order the occupants of the restaurant found the door and disappeared. The only ones left were Ross, her father and Jamie, who was beginning to wake up.

“Well,” said her father, slapping his hands together. “It’s all worked out nicely, hasn’t it, Hannah?”

She smiled…showing a lot of teeth. “You knew about this, didn’t you, Dad?”

The two men exchanged glances and her eyes narrowed.

“Ross called a few days ago and asked if you were seeing anyone else,” Edgar admitted. “He mentioned he might fly over here for a visit. And I must say, I always thought he had a special fondness for you.”

Amazing. Hannah could see her father almost believed his convenient fantasy. “You did, huh?”

“Yes, I—”

“Papa?” Jamie said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “My tummy hurts.”

“I’m here, tiger.” Ross sat next to the boy and patted his back. His expression told her everything—fierce, protective and totally lost. He didn’t have a clue what to do next. “Hannah, what’s wrong? Should we call the doctor?”

Oh, dear.

How could she resist a man like that? Strong and capable…yet totally inexperienced when it came to children. Without even trying, he was enticing her into his marriage scheme. She sighed and squared her shoulders. “Kids get a lot of tummy aches, Ross. Especially after a party.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Don’t worry, you’re overreacting,” Hannah said, limping across the room and kneeling next to Jamie. “Hey, kiddo. I’m sorry you don’t feel so good. Do you want to come back to my house for a while?”

Jamie nodded and crawled down from the chair and into her arms. His compact body snuggled close…and right into her heart, she feared. She stroked the hair back from his forehead. It was warm, but nothing to worry about; boys being boys, she suspected he’d charmed his way into a lot more cake and ice cream than he should have eaten.

“Okay, let’s go. It’s not far. We can walk.”

“What about your ankle?” Ross murmured.

Honestly. Her ankle was barely sprained. Walking wouldn’t hurt it any, but she was tired of arguing with the man.

“Dad?” Hannah called over her shoulder. “We need to borrow the truck. I think Ross and Jamie will have to spend the night with us. They can sleep in Deke’s old bedroom.”

A loud harumph came from behind them. “I don’t think that’s such a fine idea,” said her father.

“Why?” she asked dryly. “You thought it was a fine idea to arrange a marriage behind my back. What difference can it make if Ross sleeps at the house?”

“That’s different.”

“It always is. To think I told Ross you weren’t the protective sort.”

“Why…how could you think that?” Edgar said, obviously shocked. “You’re my little girl. And I didn’t arrange any marriage,” he asserted as he handed the keys to Ross. “Nobody does that any more.”

Hannah rolled her eyes.

“Except in Alaska,” she muttered. Yet she was touched that he’d worry about her virtue. Until now there hadn’t been much cause for him to worry, so no wonder it was a surprise to find he had the same huffy puffy bluster of every other father on the planet.

“I’ll put Jamie in the truck, then come back for you,” Ross murmured, lifting his son.

“Huh.” She made a face at his back. “You don’t need to pretend any more, your audience is gone. I’m capable of walking under my own steam.”

Turning at the door, he winked. “Just staying in practice, darling.”

She rubbed the back of her neck and shook her head. Jamie must have gotten his charm from his father, because that man could charm a wolverine from its den.

“Dad, are you keeping the bar open tonight?” Hannah asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking. All at once it was too much—the wedding reception, Ross’s appearance…his marriage proposal. A woman liked to think about these things; only, Ross didn’t seem willing to wait a single day.

Reno.

She made another face, though it made the most sense; Ross wanted to get married before his ex-wife could file for custody again. Hannah didn’t know a lot about custody battles, but she could see it might look better to a judge. And it would be a lot easier getting married in Reno, than doing it in Quicksilver and trying to pretend they were in love. If they got married, that is. She still wasn’t sure it was such a good idea.

“Dad, the bar,” Hannah repeated.

“They’ll be wanting a sip or two after the chivaree,” Edgar murmured. “Best to keep it open.”

“I should stay and clean up.”

“Go on, Hannah. You’ve done enough here.” Her father angrily swiped the ancient bar with a rag, and he seemed to be talking about more than the restaurant.

“You spent eighteen years taking care of your brothers.”

“Dad…”

“It was wrong to keep you, but your mama was gone, leaving me with a new baby and more to raise. I know it all fell on your shoulders.”

“I didn’t mind.”

“I minded…more now than ever. You had a right to your life, and it’s time you got something for yourself. Ross McCoy would make you a good husband.”

“We don’t love each other,” Hannah said quietly.

“Love can come after. And if it doesn’t…well, you were always good friends.” Edgar put his hands down and stared at them. “Hannah, he’s a fine man. He’d never hurt you.”

She nodded thoughtfully. Ross wouldn’t do anything to hurt her, at least not deliberately. And their friendship was nothing to sneeze at; despite a three-year age difference, they’d spent a lot of time together.

The bell over the door jangled and Edgar straightened, once more scrubbing the bar with furious intent.

“Ready?” asked Ross.

She stood, silently daring her “fiancéé” to pick her up again. “I’ll see you later, Dad.”

“Think about what I said.”

Hannah drew a shaky breath. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

The night wind rustled through the trees surrounding the house, the whispering sound as familiar to Hannah as the dancing northern lights in the midnight sky.

She turned in the bed, listening to the voices of nature and her own heart, trying to make a decision. Over and over she replayed the day’s events through her head, torn by emotions she hadn’t felt for a long while.

Did a woman ever really give up dreams of white lace and forever-after love? Ten Penny hadn’t. After all was said and done, Ten Penny had married for love. True, she’d spent ninety odd years finding that love and worked in a bawdy house in the meantime, but she’d married for the right reason.

“Blast,” Hannah mumbled, kicking the blankets aside. She looked at herself in the old, yellowed mirror and grimaced. Her hair was neither blond nor brown, and she was reasonably well endowed, but that was all. Nothing spectacular. Just the basics. She certainly didn’t inspire any overwhelming romantic urges in the opposite sex.

It had been years since she’d indulged in romantic daydreams; the local men weren’t the type to inspire fantasies. And even if she’d felt something for one of them, they’d never looked at her twice, not with the commitment she felt to her family. By now, the ones her age were either married or had moved away.

Hannah wandered into the kitchen and set a pot of milk on the stove—might as well make hot chocolate and enjoy being sleepless.

“Make extra for me,” said a quiet voice from the shadows.

Ross.

He stepped from the screened porch surrounding the rear of the house and leaned on the doorjamb. His unsnapped jeans rode low on his hips, and the rest of him was magnificently bare—feet, arms, shoulders. Hannah swallowed and looked back at the stove.

Don’t think about it.

Right.

Good advice.

Now she just had to follow that advice, and she’d be fine. If she married Ross, she’d have to remember exactly why she was doing it: to become Jamie’s mother. Nothing more. And since Jamie was such a darling little thing, that wouldn’t be so hard, would it?

“Couldn’t sleep, either?” he asked.

“It was a busy day. How is Jamie doing?”

Ross’s shoulders lifted and fell, and a look of chagrin crossed his face. “You were right. He’s fine—sound asleep, all curled up in the middle of the bed.”

“Taking his half out of the middle?”

“Something like that.”

“You get used to that with kids and cats. They have their own way of doing things.” Hannah stirred the ingredients into the steaming pot, then poured the chocolate into two cups. She handed one to Ross and backed away quickly.

“Hey, I’m not going to bite,” he murmured.

“That’s reassuring.”

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, then his smile faded. “Is it so terrible, asking you to be Jamie’s mother? He’s a terrific kid.”

Hannah traced the smooth edge of her cup, then shook her head. “I know you’re just trying to do the best for him. If he was mine, I’d do the same thing. I’m flattered you think marrying me is ‘doing the best’ for him.”

Sighing, Ross put his cup on the table and sat next to Hannah. He’d messed up badly, but there wasn’t any going backward; he might as well round out the day with another unfair maneuver.

“Say, do you remember the last time we had hot chocolate together?”

She didn’t look up, but he detected a small smile curving her lips. “In the clearing. You built a fire and made the worst cocoa I’ve ever drunk—from water, malted milk balls and a chocolate bar.”

“At the time you said it was wonderful.”

“I lied.”

Ross laughed; he couldn’t help himself. How could he have forgotten the way Hannah made him laugh? She’d always loved pulling his leg. Even at the worst of times she’d managed to drag a laugh from him with her teasing.

She looked at him from under her lashes with another slow smile. “Actually, I was right the first time—it was wonderful. You were so sweet to me that day, anything would have tasted good. I think our best and worst moments together have happened in that clearing.”

Whoa.

Ross felt his blood go up a few degrees from the smile—and from the worn, oversize T-shirt she wore for sleeping. The soft cotton molded her breasts with loving faithfulness, something she didn’t seem to realize. Nor did she seem to realize there were worn places in the fabric that made it nearly transparent.

Don’t stare, Ross reminded himself.

A gentleman should keep his eyes directed elsewhere. But more importantly, he didn’t want to find Hannah attractive, not in that way. When it got right down to brass tacks, he didn’t trust his judgment when love and sex were involved.

A marriage based on friendship was a much safer bet than the alternative. Hannah might not be his type romantically, but she was definitely a friend. They could be good together, just like when they were kids.

“So…” he said slowly. “How about marrying me? Have you made up your mind yet?”