had felt it necessary to fly over here rather than just telephone her. Unless he felt her father’s collapse was enough on his conscience for one day! She could have told him she was past collapsing, that the long hours she had spent beside the telephone had at least given her time to calm, to realise that Glenna really was dead.
‘Who the hell is he?’ The members of the media weren’t silenced for long. They might have recognised the authority of this man, but it was a recognition that had only made their curiosity all the deeper. ‘Where did he come from?’
‘With shoulders like that I don’t care where he came from,’ drawled the beautiful chic television reporter. ‘I’m just glad he’s here. Sir, are you a friend of Morgan McKay’s?’ There was more than a little personal interest in the blonde woman’s question, although a microphone was thrust aggressively into Alex Hammond’s face.
‘I thought she was seeing Sam Walters,’ murmured someone else.
Alex Hammond’s hand had tightened on Morgan’s arm at the intimacy of the woman reporter’s words, and he pushed the microphone away from him with a dark scowl. ‘I believe Miss McKay’s privacy has been invaded enough for one day,’ he snapped, his hand firm on her arm now as he turned her back into her apartment. ‘If you’ll excuse us—lady, gentlemen,’ he nodded dismissively.
‘Hey, the guy’s English—–’
‘Your powers of deduction are amazing,’ Alex Hammond taunted dryly, caring nothing for the ruddy hue that coloured the younger man’s cheeks, pushing Morgan the rest of the way into her apartment and closing the door in the face of the renewed questioning. ‘Like vultures!’ he muttered as he followed her through to the lounge, then his silvery-grey eyes narrowed as he saw her packed suitcase standing next to a chair. He looked up at her with a frown. ‘Are you going somewhere?’
‘I—I’d given up on your call.’ Her voice came out husky—and slightly defensive. She shouldn’t need to explain herself to this man, damn it! ‘I’m booked on a flight to England in a couple of hours’ time.’
He merely nodded acknowledgement of the fact, seeming impatient to end the conversation before it had started. ‘Is it true, has your father collapsed?’
Her antagonism faded as quickly as it had begun. Of course, her mother had said her father collapsed after Alex Hammond called—he didn’t even know about it! ‘It’s true,’ she admitted heavily. ‘There’s no danger, but it’s hit him hard, harder than I realised. He wanted boys, you see,’ she knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to control herself. ‘That’s why we were named Glenna and Morgan; he didn’t have any names for girls.’ She broke off. ‘I’m sorry, you don’t want to hear all this.’ She avoided his all-seeing gaze, realising she had revealed too much of herself with these unguarded words.
She and Glenna had never doubted their father loved them, but they had always known of his desire for a son, had known their names had been chosen for boys and converted for the girls that had come in the place of the sons he wanted. She hadn’t even realised her own feelings of inadequacy until she found herself telling it to Alex Hammond!
‘I had no idea your father had collapsed.’ He chose to ignore her lapse into the melancholy, confirming her thoughts that he hadn’t known; his silver eyes were icy, his expression cold. ‘Although it’s been a shock to all of us.’
Then how did he manage to look so unmoved! Morgan knew she looked haunted, her parents and his mother were deeply shocked, and yet Alex Hammond looked—detached. There was no other way to describe the way he looked.
Morgan swallowed hard in the face of that detachment. ‘They said—on the television—that there were no survivors.’ She searched his face for some sign of that information being wrong. Not by the flicker of an eyelid did he show emotion. Oh, he was a cold bastard! She shuddered at the vehemence of her feelings, having taken even more of a dislike to this man.
‘They were wrong,’ he stated flatly.
Hope leapt in her heart. ‘They were?’
‘Yes. It appears—Sit down, please,’ he told her abruptly.
She looked startled. ‘I—I’m fine. I—–’
‘I said sit down, Morgan.’ He didn’t raise his voice, his expression didn’t change, and yet Morgan sat, knowing the words were an order and not a request. ‘It appears there were half a dozen survivors—all of them severely injured, but alive nonetheless.’
‘Glenna—–’
‘Was not one of them. Neither was Mark.’ Still the man showed no emotions.
Her breathing became ragged as the full impact of his words hit her. ‘They—they’re both dead?’ she choked, having been given hope for a few seconds only to have it taken away from her again.
‘Yes,’ Alex Hammond stated flatly.
‘Oh, God!’ She hadn’t realised how much hope she had still been harbouring, secretly believing that no news was good news. It was all gone now. She didn’t doubt for a minute that Alex Hammond knew what he was talking about.
‘But their son is very much alive,’ his softly spoken words interrupted her weeping. ‘And well.’
Morgan raised a tear-wet face, swallowing hard. ‘Their—son?’
He nodded. ‘Glenna was one of the survivors. She lived for two hours after the crash, badly—fatally injured herself. And somehow she kept alive long enough to give birth to her child. She had a son. His name—the name she chose for him—is Courtney.’
This time Morgan cared nothing for his lack of emotions. ‘Courtney …!’ she gave a choked sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a cry. ‘That’s my father’s name!’
‘Yes,’ Alex Hammond acknowledged. ‘And I’m sure your father will be very proud of his grandson.’
‘You—you’ve seen him?’ She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.
‘Briefly,’ he acknowledged tersely.
She was under control again now, hardly able to believe what he was telling her. Glenna had a son, a son who was alive! ‘What does he look like? Is he like Glenna or Mark? Is—–’
‘He’s like all newborn babies,’ Alex Hammond dismissed impatiently. ‘Small, pink, and he cries a lot. And incredibly like Glenna,’ he added gruffly, showing he wasn’t quite as unmoved by the baby’s existence as he appeared.
‘I want to see him,’ she decided firmly.
‘I have no doubt you will,’ he drawled. ‘But there’s something else I think you should know before we go any further. Glenna also made provision for her son’s future. She made you and me Courtney’s legal guardians. Jointly,’ he added pointedly.
MORGAN blinked; she was too stunned to do anything more than that. She was overjoyed, thrilled, at the thought of her nephew being alive and well. But she had no
