Hannah smiled, and Ross felt his blood pressure go up a few degrees—from the smile, and from the worn, oversize T-shirt she was wearing.

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 damn near transparent.

Don’t stare, he reminded himself.

A gentleman would keep his eyes directed elsewhere. More importantly, he didn’t want to find Hannah attractive, not in that way. He didn’t trust his judgment when love and sex were involved.

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

“So…” he said slowly, “how about marrying me?”

Bridal Fever:

Three partners find their bachelor days numbered when the Alaskan nights get long and lonely….

Callie, Get Your Groom (SR#1436)

Hannah Gets a Husband (SR#1448)

Jodie’s Mail-Order Man (SR#1460)

Dear Reader,

“Happy Birthday to us….” Exactly twenty years ago this May, Silhouette Romance was born. Since then, we’ve grown as a company, and as a series that continues to offer the very best in contemporary category romance fiction. The icing on the cake is this month’s amazing lineup:

International bestselling author Diana Palmer reprises her SOLDIERS OF FORTUNE miniseries with Mercenary’s Woman. Sorely missed, Rita Rainville returns to Romance with the delightful story of a Too Hard To Handle rancher who turns out to be anything but…. Elizabeth August delivers the dramatic finale to ROYALLY WED. In A Royal Mission, rescuing kidnapped missing princess Victoria Rockford was easy for Lance Grayson. But falling in love wasn’t part of the plan.

Marie Ferrarella charms us with a Tall, Strong & Cool Under Fire hero whose world turns topsy-turvy when an adorable moppet and her enticing mom venture into his fire station…. Julianna Morris’s BRIDAL FEVER! rages on when Hannah Gets a Husband—her childhood friend who is a new dad. And in Her Sister’s Child, a woman allies with her enemy. Don’t miss this pulse-pounding romance by Lilian Darcy!

In June, we’re featuring Dixie Browning and Phyllis Halldorson, and in coming months look for new miniseries from many of your favorite authors. It’s an exciting year for Silhouette Books, and we invite you to join the celebration!

Happy reading!

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

Hannah Gets a Husband
Julianna Morris

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To all my friends in Tulare

Books by Julianna Morris

Silhouette Romance

Baby Talk #1097

Family of Three #1178

Daddy Woke Up Married #1252

Dr. Dad #1278

The Marriage Stampede #1375

~Callie, Get Your Groom #1436

~Hannah Gets a Husband #1448

JULIANNA MORRIS

has an offbeat sense of humor, which frequently gets her into trouble. She is often accused of being curious about everything…her interests ranging from oceanography and photography to traveling, antiquing, walking on the beach and reading science fiction. Choosing a college major was extremely difficult, but after many changes she earned a bachelor’s degree in environmental science.

Julianna’s writing is supervised by a cat named Gandalf, who sits on the computer monitor and criticizes each keystroke. Ultimately, she would like a home overlooking the ocean, where she can write to her heart’s content—and Gandalf’s malcontent. She’d like to share that home with her own romantic hero, someone with a warm, sexy smile, lots of patience and an offbeat sense of humor to match her own. Oh, yes…and he has to like cats.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter One

Bong, bong, bong.

The bell in the tiny church tower rang three times, announcing the end of the wedding ceremony.

Hannah Liggett leaned her elbows on the cash register and sighed. Those bongs meant it was official—she was the last single woman in Quicksilver, Alaska.

Single, as in spinster.

Ten Penny Alice was marrying Joe Dobkins—bride and groom were both in their nineties. Hannah didn’t know how Ten Penny had gotten her name, but she suspected it had something to do with the bawdy house Ten Penny once owned.

“I wonder if the bride wore white?” Hannah mused aloud, an aching sensation tugging at her heart. It wasn’t envy, but she couldn’t help wondering if she’d ever fall in love and get married herself. Of course, she’d been too busy raising her brothers to look for a husband, but that didn’t mean she’d stopped thinking about it.

“Don’t feel s’bad,” called Toby Myers, one of the old sourdoughs who always hung around the restaurant. “I’ll marry up with ya.”

Hannah lifted the coffeepot and walked to his table. “I don’t know about that. You know what they say about getting married in Alaska…the odds are good, but the goods are odd.”

He chuckled as she poured another cup of coffee. It wasn’t the strong stuff he really wanted—Toby’s doctor had ordered absolutely no caffeine, so she was secretly substituting decaf. So far, he hadn’t noticed the difference.

The bell over the door jangled and Hannah glanced up, surprised. She didn’t expect the guests to arrive for another few minutes; when the bride and groom were ninety-two and ninety-five respectively, it took a while to get places.

“Hi, Hannah. Remember me?” a man asked, shifting the child he held in his arms.

Hannah stepped closer so the newcomer wasn’t silhouetted against the late-afternoon light. Her eyes opened wider.

It was Ross McCoy, but not the lanky teenager who’d left Quicksilver nearly seventeen years ago. This Ross was six foot two, with broad shoulders and a trim, powerful body that oozed masculine sensuality. Potent. Small lines fanned the corners of his deep blue eyes, topped by black hair with a few glints of silver.

Shocked by the feminine awareness running through her body, she stared at the child he carried, then at Ross again. They had the same hair and eyes, the same strong chin and direct way of looking at you. They looked so much alike there was no doubt they were father and son.

“Have I changed that much?” Ross murmured.

“Ross?” Hannah whispered.

“Yup.” He grinned his slow, warm grin. “Well, Honeycomb? Where’s that hug you always used to give me?”

The familiar nickname and smile made Hannah’s eyes swim with unaccustomed tears. “I…uh….” She shrugged and sniffed in embarrassment.

Ross put his son down on a chair and closed the distance between them. He lifted his hand and stroked a damp track on her cheek. “Hey, what’s all this? You don’t cry.”

“Nothing. I’m just glad to see you.”

“Same here, Honeycomb.”

He gave her a quick, tight hug and Hannah drew an unsteady breath. Some things might have changed, but she was still “Honeycomb” to Ross, the nickname he’d given her when they’d gleefully found an old tree filled with bees and honey, only to be chased away by a territorial bear.

It was just like him to show up when she was a little lost and at odds with herself during this wedding excitement. Despite the years she’d spent riding herd on six younger brothers, she still dreamed of becoming a mother. Of course, that required a husband, and men didn’t seem to find her particularly desirable.

Jeez, that was depressing—even more depressing than never having a family of her own. Most of the time Hannah tried not to think about the lack of romance in her life, but the fuss over Ten Penny finally getting married was a constant reminder.

“Think I’ll be headin’ out,” said Toby.

Hannah blinked and motioned to the pink streamers adorning the room. “Aren’t you staying for the party, Toby? There’s lots of food.”

“Nope…gotta get going. I’m organizin’ the chivaree for Joe and Ten Penny, so I need to get ever’thing fixed up for it.” The door closed behind him, leaving an overwhelming silence.

Ross lifted his eyebrows. “A chivaree?”

Hannah tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and shrugged again. Ordinarily she didn’t pay much attention to her appearance, yet this was one day she wished she could have worn something besides her usual jeans and shirt. The last time Ross had seen her, she’d been a flat-chested fifteen-year-old, trying to make her youngest brother eat green peas without spitting them in her hair. Maybe she didn’t have any illusions about being beautiful, but it would have been nice to look her best.

“You probably don’t remember,” she murmured. “It’s an old custom. The men ‘serenade’ the bride and groom on their wedding night, making noise and keeping them from…er, getting amorous.”

“I remember, but Joe and Ten Penny are pretty old for that sort of thing.”

“It’s all in fun, and Ten Penny has been hankering after a chivaree for a long time,” Hannah said, remembering how excited the elder woman had been about her impending nuptials.

“Hmm…I didn’t think she was the romantic type.”

Every woman is the romantic type, you dope, Hannah thought, unaccountably annoyed. Yet it really wasn’t Ross’s fault. Everyone in town had teased her about being the last spinster in Quicksilver, thinking she was too practical, too sensible to mind the good-natured ribbing. Sometimes it felt like Sensible Hannah was tattooed across her forehead.

Sensible. Hah.

Pressing her lips together, she hurried to Toby’s table to clean it up before the wedding guests arrived, mostly to give herself something to do. She wanted to ask about the little boy Ross had brought with him, but figured Ross would explain in his own good time.

Crouching to retrieve a dropped spoon, she caught the child’s eye and smiled. The youngster regarded her gravely, then scooted off his chair to tug on his father’s pant leg. The ache around Hannah’s heart deepened. Everyone had moved on with their lives, and here she was, in the same old place she’d always been.

“Up, Papa.”

“All right, Jamie.”

Ross bent and lifted his son into his arms again. He’d fought so hard to get custody of Jamie, sometimes he was afraid to let go.

Jamie put his thumb in his mouth and stared at Hannah. Ross didn’t blame him, he could hardly keep from staring himself. She’d changed…a lot. He remembered a girl with a flyaway blond hair and a gamin face, but that girl had turned into a woman with expressive silver-green eyes and a shapely body.

Very shapely.

Get a grip, Ross ordered, trying to quell a flash of heat in his groin. That wasn’t why he’d returned to Quicksilver. He’d returned because Hannah was a good friend and he needed her help. When it came right down to it, she was the only woman he really trusted.

Woman. He grinned at the thought.

Hannah hadn’t quite been a woman when he’d left Quicksilver, but it didn’t matter; they’d gotten into too much trouble together to ever be strangers. Hours of writing “I’ll never build a snowman on the teacher’s chair again” were a guarantee of lifelong friendship.

“What are you smirking about?” Hannah asked.

“Our infamous snowman. How many times did we have to write that sentence?”

“A thousand times each. My hand developed a permanent crimp, and it was all your idea to do it.”

Ross shook his head. “Not quite. You were the one who suggested we dye the snow green and use a witch’s cap. That was the part Mrs. Haggerty hated the worst.”

“All right, we were both responsible.” Hannah laughed, her cheeks turning pink. He loved it; she was probably the only woman left on the planet unspoiled enough to blush.

After his disastrous marriage he’d vowed never to be trapped again, but getting Jamie had changed everything. He needed a wife to strengthen his legal position in case of another custody battle, and his son needed a mother. Hannah was the solution to both problems.

He’d thought it out very carefully. Hannah had grown up in Alaska and she was great with kids. And she was the loyal type—at just fourteen she’d taken over caring for the family when her mother died in childbirth. He knew she’d marry him if she understood how important it was; they’d always stuck together.

Hannah came closer, her attention focused on Jamie. “Hello. My name is Hannah. Who are you?”

“Jamie. I’m four.” He held up all five of his fingers.

She tucked his thumb down, then touched the remaining fingers one by one. “This many is four. One, two, three, four. See?”

He regarded his hand for a solemn second. In fact, he was entirely too solemn and grave for a child his age, something that could be blamed on his flighty mother. Ross’s mouth tightened with determination; Jamie deserved to have Hannah as his mother, and that’s exactly what his son was going to get.

“Okay,” Jamie agreed. “Can I have some ice cream?”

“May I,” Ross corrected.

Jamie sighed heavily. “Okay. Can Papa have some, too?”

An exasperated expression crossed his father’s face, but Hannah smiled. After raising six brothers, she could handle little boys. A sense of humor helped, along with a huge tolerance for noise and cheerful chaos.

“Of course he can have some ice cream. I know your papa likes strawberry the best, but what’s your favorite?”

“V’nilla.” Jamie leaned forward and held out his arms. With an ease born of long practice, Hannah shifted the youngster onto her hip.

“I need to talk to you, Hannah,” said Ross, following them to a corner table. “It’s important.”

For some reason her stomach fluttered, though she couldn’t imagine why. They’d talked about everything when they were kids; why should it be different now? The fact that Ross had turned into a heart-stopping hunk didn’t mean anything.

And don’t forget Jamie.

Right.

Little boys had mothers, which meant there was a good chance Ross was married. So it would be silly to be attracted to an old friend, and even sillier to imagine he was attracted to her. It was just this wedding stuff, getting her stirred up and confused. Just the same, it would be nice to have someone really want her.

“Hannah?”

“Uhh…all right. Except I’d better get that ice cream first. Isn’t that right, Jamie? A nice big bowl.”

Jamie’s eyes brightened. “V’nilla.”

“And strawberry for your papa. We’ll be right back, Ross.”

Ross sat back and watched Hannah disappear into the restaurant kitchen with his son. “I heard Deke is working on a fishing boat,” he called. “He’s the youngest, isn’t he?”

“Yes.” Her voice was muffled. “He took off a couple of months ago to earn money for college. Deke is just like you. He couldn’t wait to get away.”

Ross shifted in the old ladder-back chair. Yeah, he’d been anxious to leave Quicksilver. It was a dusty little town, forgotten by the modern world and lumbering toward extinction. The principal entertainments were hunting, drinking and watching moss grow on trees.

On the other hand, Hannah had never seemed to mind living in Quicksilver. She’d listened patiently when he talked about escaping, but her family was the center of her world, not exotic travel and different places. And he had to admit, if he’d been part of the Liggett clan he might have felt the same. They weren’t perfect, but they were nice people.

“Here we go,” Hannah said a moment later. She held a tray in one hand and led Jamie with the other.

“Thanks.” Ross settled his son on his lap and tucked a napkin under his chin. It was awkward. Jamie had only been living with him for a few weeks and they were still adjusting to each other.

Just then the sound of excited, happy people floated into the restaurant and Hannah grinned. “That’s the wedding party coming over from the church.”

“I couldn’t believe it when your dad said Ten Penny was getting married.”

She gave him a strange look. “When did you talk to my father?”

“A few days ago.”

Hannah straightened, still watching Ross with a question in her eyes. She didn’t like hearing that he’d talked to her dad, especially since her father had been walking around all week like a cat who’d stolen the cream. Anyway, if Ross had something to talk to her about, why wouldn’t he call her directly?

“Danged if this isn’t something,” cried Ten Penny as she tottered through the door. “I’m finally a missus!” Everyone else was dressed in the usual jeans and shirts, but Ten Penny wore a purple feather boa around her neck and a beaded dress of unknown vintage.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Dobkins,” Hannah said, giving Ten Penny a hug. “You look beautiful.” And she meant it. Maybe Ten Penny had a few wrinkles and a questionable reputation in the murky past, but none of that mattered today. She was beautiful…a survivor, a monument to stubborn determination in the face of great odds.

“You sure made it all look purty in here,” said Ten Penny. “All them flowers and ribbons and such. It’s a real weddin’ party. Thanks, darlin’.”

“I enjoyed doing it,” Hannah assured her. “Now go sit down and have a good time.”

The combination bar and restaurant wasn’t very big, and with half the town crowded inside, the noise level skyrocketed. In the distant past Ten Penny had heard about “petit fours” and “little sandwiches without crusts,” so she’d asked Hannah to make some of those “fancy goo-gaws” for her big day. Fortunately Hannah had also made red-hot chili and several sheet cakes—Quicksilver wasn’t ready for finger food.

When she got the chance, Hannah pulled her father to one side. “What’s going on with Ross McCoy? You never said anything about talking to him.”

“Oh? You know he calls the bar every now and then—more before his pa died, of course. The McCoys never had a phone. He always asks about you, too.”

Hannah ignored the pleasure her father’s last statement gave her. “Yes, but why is he here?”

“You’ll have to ask Ross. My, that chocolate cake looks good. I’d better get over there before it’s all gone.”

“Wily old fox,” Hannah muttered.

“Whatever you say, dear. By the way, did I mention Ross is divorced?”

With that last remark, Edgar Liggett made a beeline for the food table, leaving Hannah with narrowed eyes and a tapping foot. She loved her father, but he had an annoying ability to duck out of uncomfortable situations.

And what did he mean about Ross being divorced? With Edgar it could be anything from idle conversation to a suggestion she seduce the guy. Hannah froze at the thought, then shook her head. The idea had a certain appeal, but she didn’t have any skills in the seduction department and she wouldn’t want to hurt her friendship with Ross, anyway. It was funny, but even after all these years, she still considered him her best friend. If her life had gone a little differently, they might have kept in touch. He’d done better than she had—at least he’d written her a few letters.

As for what Ross wanted…she didn’t know what to think. He sat in the corner, calmly eating ice cream with his son and chatting with the partygoers as though he’d never left Quicksilver. Feeling foolish, Hannah headed over to his table on the pretext of bringing Jamie a glass of milk.

“Thanks.” Ross smiled and motioned to the chair next to him. “Can you take a break?”

“Sure. You wanted to talk, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” He pushed the last of his ice cream away. “I understand you never got married.”

“Thanks, rub it in,” Hannah muttered.

He looked surprised. “I didn’t mean anything.”

“Of course not.”

No longer curious, she grabbed his bowl and headed for the kitchen. So much for thinking Ross might understand how she felt. It was different for men; they could father babies until they were old and gray. They didn’t have to worry about biological clocks, which probably explained why they didn’t obsess about falling in love nearly so much as the female half of the species.

“Hannah…”

“What?” she asked.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Hannah sighed. She was being overly sensitive, but that didn’t change the way she felt. “Forget it.” But he stood there waiting and she shrugged. “It’s just that I’ve been teased a lot about Ten Penny’s wedding—you know, about it making me the last spinster. I thought you were getting into the fun, as well.”

Genuine shock registered on his face. “I’d never do that, Hannah. I only brought it up because—”

“Honey, that punch could use some more kick,” called Ten Penny into the kitchen. “But yer daddy’s fresh out of gin at the bar and he can’t find his keys to the storeroom.”

Hannah leaned her forehead against the worn wood of a cabinet for a second. A kick. That’s all she needed—a bunch of elderly revelers getting punch drunk. “Okay, I’ll get it.”

She hurried out again, at the same time checking on Jamie. Despite her muddled emotions, Hannah smiled. Ross had left the boy with three older women, who clucked over him like a bunch of broody hens. There weren’t many children in Quicksilver; the town didn’t have any opportunities for young families, so most of them migrated to larger communities like Anchorage or Fairbanks.

Ross caught her arm. “Let’s sneak out for a little while.”

“I’m busy.” Hannah pulled away, but he followed her to the storeroom. Honestly, he’d waited over seventeen years to come see her, and now he acted like the building was on fire and he didn’t have a moment to waste.

“I am very, very serious. Could we please go somewhere private?” he asked.

Hannah rolled her eyes. “I have a wedding reception to take care of, Ross. Why don’t you roll up your sleeves and help me? There’s plenty of time. We can talk later.”

“Well, I—”

“Honey, where’s that gin?” call Ten Penny.

“Coming.”

Sighing again, Hannah hunted up a bottle and pushed past Ross. The small room felt even smaller with him filling up the entrance, his eyes dark and intent as they watched her. It was uncomfortable, feeling so aware of him as a man.

“Here you go.”

She handed the bottle to Ten Penny, who proceeded to empty it into the bowl. Hannah grimaced as the scent of gin assailed her senses; ordinarily she left serving spirits to her father, but this was a special occasion.

“That’s better, darlin’,” said Ten Penny, smacking her lips over the fortified punch. She handed a cup to her groom, who nodded with equal approval.

“That’s fine,” Joe crowed. “Have some, too, Hannah girl. “It’ll put hair on yer chest.”

His bride shook a finger at him. “Hush, Joe. Hannah don’t need no hair on her chest. Ain’t that right, Ross?” she called. “You been looking plenty at Hannah’s chest. It looks just dandy, don’t it?”

“Uh…” Ross choked, and heat crept up his neck. “Her chest is fine.”

Edgar Liggett stood across the room, glaring with parental indignation, and Ross whistled beneath his breath. Proposing to Hannah was a whole lot more complicated than he’d thought it would be. As for Hannah…He turned and saw her studying him with a strained expression on her face.

Great. Thanks to Joe and Ten Penny she probably thought he’d turned into a sex fiend over the years, and it wasn’t true. He was a normal man who enjoyed looking at a woman’s body; Hannah had grown up very nicely and he appreciated that fact.

“Hannah?” called someone else from across the room. “You got any more coffee?”

“And sugar,” added another voice.

Ross gritted his teeth. It seemed as if everyone in Quicksilver had a claim on Hannah’s time and attention, and a vague sense of guilt nagged at him. Was he being fair, hoping to get her sympathy with Jamie? Or would she be grateful for the chance to finally get away from Quicksilver?

His frustration built as he kept trying to get her alone. “Sit down,” he said when she scooted past him for the seventh time.

She gave him a distracted smile. “After a bit.”

It was the last straw. “Hannah Liggett,” he roared. “I want to propose! So, will you or won’t you marry me?” Ross regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but it was too late and he was too frazzled to care.

Except for an excited titter next to the food table, the room fell silent.

Hannah turned white and stared at him. “What?”

He loosened the collar around his neck. “I…uh, asked you to marry me.”

“That’s what I thought.” Turning, she headed straight for the door of the restaurant. Ross thought there were tears in her eyes and he swore under his breath.

“Watch Jamie for a minute, okay?” he asked Hannah’s father before heading out the door himself.

If there was one thing he hated, it was seeing Hannah cry. She’d always been so brave when they were growing up, taking her lumps and smiling through everything. There was only one other time he’d seen her really crying, and he still remembered the horrid feeling it gave him.

More from instinct than memory, he found her in the small copse of trees where she’d always gone to be alone. Ross sighed at the sight of her standing there, her hands clenched into fists.

“Ah, Hannah. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Her chin lifted and he saw she wasn’t upset—she was furious. “How could you say something like that in front of everyone? Do you enjoy making a fool out of me?”

“But I do want to marry you.”

Hannah wanted to kick him. He didn’t get it at all. It couldn’t have been more obvious to the entire town that Ross didn’t have any romantic feelings for her. They were probably having a rib-splitting chuckle over the whole thing.

“Jamie needs a mother,” Ross continued quietly. “And you’re the only woman I could ever trust him with.”

She ground her teeth. Ross wanted to marry reliable old Hannah—cook, baby-sitter and all-around good sport. She’d moaned about being the last single woman in Quicksilver, but this wasn’t what she’d had in mind to correct the matter. Jeez, she felt so stupid for getting worked up about Ross; he didn’t have any interest in her, not as a woman.

“You should wait to fall in love,” she muttered. “That’ll be best for Jamie.”

Ross studied her, his hands thrust in his pockets. “I was in love with my first wife and it was a disaster. But this would be great—two friends getting married. Don’t you see how perfect it is? We always backed each other up when things got bad. And friendship is a much better basis for marriage than some fleeting emotion based mostly on lust.”

Hannah wanted to scream “no.” No she wouldn’t marry him. And no, love meant more than just lust. Yet she couldn’t help remembering Jamie’s solemn, almost worried face; her pride wasn’t the only thing to consider. And Ross obviously valued their friendship, so it wasn’t like he didn’t care about her. In a way he’d paid her a huge compliment.

“Maybe I could be your housekeeper,” she suggested.

“No.” Ross shook his head. “My ex-wife signed over custody for a large monetary settlement, but she’s already making noises about getting Jamie back. I need a wife and a stable family life so any judge in the world will agree that Jamie belongs in Alaska with me. And I need to do it fast, Honeycomb…before she has a chance to file any papers with the court. It’ll look better.”

“I don’t understand,” Hannah murmured, still getting a rush of pleasure that he remembered her old nickname. “If she signed over custody, then how can she do anything?”

He sighed heavily. “According to my lawyer, when it comes to kids and the legal system, you never know what could happen. Besides, Jamie needs to feel secure. I want him to have a real mother.”

Hannah pressed her hand to her throat, feeling the familiar, longing ache. A real mother.

She loved her brothers, but she wasn’t their mother; now Ross was offering her a dream come true. It had felt so right, talking to Jamie and holding him…and it wasn’t like men were hanging around, begging her to marry them. This could be her last chance. Should she settle for part of what she wanted, rather than risk not getting anything at all?

But marrying Ross? Hannah swallowed.

Just how married did he expect them to be? Married as in really married, or married as in separate bedrooms? She peeked at him from beneath her lashes, but didn’t know how to ask. Of course, she doubted he expected anything physical. They were friends, not lovers. He’d made that very clear.

“So…for how long were you thinking we’d be married? A year or two?”

“At least till Jamie is eighteen,” he said decisively. “He needs someone he knows will always be there for him. And you never know, we might really like it. I could see us staying together, can’t you?”

Oh, sure, Hannah thought wryly. A nice platonic little marriage—every woman’s lifelong dream.

“Think about it,” Ross urged. “I know I should have handled things differently, but this is your chance to leave Quicksilver. We’d live down on the Kenai Peninsula, but you could go to Anchorage whenever you like. I’m a partner in an air transit business—I can give you a good life.”

Once again Hannah’s foot itched to kick him. Honestly, the man had developed a genuine talent for making her angry. Not that it was anything new. They may have been buddies, but they’d fought like cats and dogs when they were kids. Why should anything be different now?

“My big chance, huh? Do you think I’d marry you for that?”

He sighed. “Of course not. I just wanted to reassure you that…well, that I’m—”

“A good provider?” she asked, a little too sweetly.

“If you want to put it that way. I couldn’t blame you for wondering what you’d get out of the arrangement.”

Get out of the arrangement?

All at once Hannah realized there was a part of Ross she no longer knew…the part that had gotten cynical. More confused than ever, she stared at the Sitka spruce trees surrounding them. A long time ago Ross had found her here, crying after her mother’s funeral. He’d held her and comforted her, though he’d hardly said a word.

Where was that Ross? The tall, strong boy who understood her grief more than anyone else? She might have been comfortable marrying the boy she’d once known, but he’d gone and turned into a sexy hunk who didn’t believe in love.

“Please…I didn’t mean to hurt you, Hannah. You’re very special to me. You always have been.”

She tapped her fingers on her arm. “I suppose you thought I’d be thrilled to get a proposal from anyone.”

Ross winced, realizing how badly he’d handled things. How could he make her understand? When he’d finally gotten Jamie and realized his son needed a mother as well as a father, the woman he’d instantly thought of was Hannah Liggett.

Hell, as far as he was concerned, 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 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?”

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.

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