Hannah Gets A Husband

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.