Hannah Gets A Husband

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?”

Chapter Three

Hannah held her breath, arguments both for and against saying “yes” racing through her mind.

“Yes” to the wonderful possibilities of becoming a mother.

“No” to marrying a man she didn’t love.

If she held out for love, she could end up like Ten Penny, spending most of her life without a family. Maybe all her life. But it didn’t have to be like that; Ross was offering her a chance to become a mother, even if he hadn’t done it in a tactful way.

She focused on Ross’s intent face, hoping to find an answer.

Things had changed since they were children. Marriage to Ross McCoy meant leaving her home for good. It meant making all new friends and starting a completely different life. Talk about a girl from the sticks—she’d never been more than fifty miles from home.

None of it would matter if he was in love with her, but she didn’t have that luxury. And it hurt to admit, but Ross was right about something else: this was her chance to leave Quicksilver.

Maybe her last chance.

Hannah set her cup on the table. Okay, so they weren’t in love. Big deal. If she married Ross, she’d be Jamie’s mother, and eighteen years of on-the-job training did give her an edge in the maternal skills department.

“About this afternoon…what I said about giving you a good life? I wasn’t implying you were mercenary,” Ross said, as if searching for the right words. “But you’re honestly entitled to wonder what this arrangement would mean to you.”

Actually, Hannah thought it was all very simple. She’d get to be Jamie’s mother, and Ross would get a wife to show the judge in case of a custody battle.

“I’m not wealthy, but I can afford to hire housekeepers and nannies and do anything necessary to take care of my son,” Ross continued, a serious expression growing on his face. “So don’t think I just want an inexpensive baby-sitter. I proposed because I want my son to have a mother who is sweet and loving and decent. And I swear I’d be a good husband and do everything possible to make you happy.”

“As Jamie’s mother,” she added, wondering why it made her so sad. One by one her dreams had vanished over the years, and now Ross was offering one of the most precious of those dreams back to her. Why was she hesitating?

Ross lifted her hand and squeezed it, his fingers hard against her softer skin. “Jamie is part of this, but I want you to be happy because you’re my friend. We can be partners.”

Friends.

Partners.

Not husband and wife in a real sense. Not a marriage, but an “arrangement.” Ross would keep her clothed and sheltered, and she’d be his son’s mother. Hannah swallowed, knowing she had to ask if he expected anything else, even if it embarrassed them both.

“There’s one thing we haven’t talked about,” she said slowly. “That is, we haven’t discussed what our…uh, our personal relationship would be.”

“I don’t know what…oh.” To Hannah’s surprise, a dull red color crept into his face. “You’re asking if I expect…er, want all the marital comforts.”

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, though the situation wasn’t funny. “That’s one way of putting it.”

Ross shifted uncomfortably. “To be honest, I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I guess I assumed we’d have to get reacquainted, then make some sort of decision down the road.”

“I see.” It was a nice, noncommittal response that didn’t mean anything, and Hannah kept her face neutral. She must not have been successful at hiding her feelings, because Ross leaned forward with a worried frown.

“It has nothing to do with you, Hannah. I just haven’t considered that aspect of things. Hell, I was blinded by lust in my first marriage and it was a disaster. We didn’t even last six months.”

“I see,” she repeated, understanding all too well. She was the perfect wife because he didn’t find her desirable.

Well, fine. She wouldn’t find him desirable, either.