there wasn’t any other choice. Hannah was sweet and generous and loyal to a fault with her friends and family. She was the perfect mother for his son. And to be honest, having her in his life again wouldn’t be bad for him, either.
“I wasn’t implying anything of the sort,” he said, carefully picking his words.
“Cut it out,” Hannah snapped. “You claim you didn’t mean to embarrass me, but what did you expect? Everyone knows we haven’t been seeing each other. I’ll bet they’re still laughing at the grand joke.”
“Marrying me isn’t a joke.”
“It is when you’re the last single woman in town. It is when the proposal is yelled out during a wedding reception where the ninety-two-year-old bride managed to get a husband ahead of you!”
Ross groaned. No wonder Hannah wanted to crown him; in her shoes he would have been furious too.
“Look, Hannah, I think you’re terrific—that’s why I’m here. I’ll tell everyone I’ve always been in love with you, and that I got carried away by the moment. I can be very convincing. Heck, they’re halfway convinced already—when Ten Penny said that stuff about me looking at your chest, your father looked like he wanted to geld me with a kitchen knife.”
Hannah narrowed her eyes. Bringing up the comments about her “chest” wasn’t something she appreciated. He’d described her chest as “fine.” Fine was one of those words like “interesting.” You said it when you didn’t know what else to say.
Fine.
Yuck.
“Huh. Trust me, Dad isn’t the protective type. Please, just go away and leave me alone. I need to think.”
“No.” He barked the order out and Hannah glared.
“I can be alone if I want. We’re not married yet…and I doubt we’ll ever be married,” she added darkly.
“Don’t say that. I sincerely, abjectly apologize for embarrassing you.”
“Stow it.” Hannah stepped back and abruptly went flying, her foot caught in a rabbit hole. A stab of pain shot through her ankle as she hit the ground.
“Hannah! Are you okay? No, stay down. Let me check you first.”
Ross’s hand held her gently in place, when all she wanted was to crawl in that dratted hole. A woman could only take so much humiliation in one day, and she’d reached her absolute limit.
“I’m all right. Leave me alone.”
Ignoring the protest, he slid his fingers over her ribs, leaving a trail of heat that made it even harder to breathe. His knuckles lightly brushed the underside of her breasts and Hannah’s heart lodged in her throat.
Lord, it wasn’t fair.
Ross was practically caressing her and he looked about as stimulated as a sleeping walrus. The tumble hadn’t done her any serious physical damage, but at the moment, her feminine ego was on the critical list.
Chapter Two
“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
