'If you let me finish, you'll understand what it has to do with you!'
'Sorry,' sh
e said drily. He was jealous, of course; he wanted to keep Rick away from Annette, and was that surprising? He didn't want Annette to spend what should have been their wedding night with another man.
He ran a hand through his dark hair, mouth twisting. 'No, I'm sorry. I'm dead on my feet. This has been quite a day for me, remember.'
She nodded. 'You must be very tired.' And miserable and angry and a lot of other things, she thought, watching him with sympathy. In fact, on the whole he was behaving very well. Many men in his situation would have been quite different; bitter and vindictive, to say the least. William Cassidy was being positively saintly. Viewing the hard angles of his face, the cool assurance of those eyes, Sian suddenly wondered about that. Was his generosity entirely without motive? Surely he didn't still hope to get Annette back?
Or did he?
'I'm dying to lie down and sleep my head off,' he admitted with a self-deriding grin. 'But I can't do that until I've sorted this out. And that's where you come in. Will you stay at my house with Annette tonight?'
Sian's mouth dropped open. 'At your house?'
'If she's urgently needed at the hospital she'll have to have transport on hand and she doesn't drive. If she stays at my house I can drive her to the hospital at once, without any delay in getting a taxi.'
Sian viewed him curiously. He was certainly clever. He had made that reasoning sound very plausible, but she suspected his motives all the same.
He met her eyes, his face darkly flushed, his jaw tensed. 'Well? Will you? But if you do, I want your word that you won't print a word about all this. Just for once in your life, act like a woman, not a reporter.'
'I act like a woman most of the time,' Sian threw back, herself flushing and resenting the way he'd talked.
'Do you?' He didn't seem convinced, and his brows arched. 'Well, act like one now. Forget that Annette is in the news. She needs your help. Don't take advantage of that.'
'I ought to slap you!' Sian said, seething.
Suddenly he laughed, his face changing and a mocking amusement in his eyes. 'I wouldn't advise it. I'm bigger and tougher than you are.'
'And less scrupulous, for all your talk about my lack of scruples!' she accused him. He went on smiling down at her, but his eyes were narrowed and hard and watchful.
'Will you stay, anyway?' he asked, and she nodded, grimacing.
'I suppose so. You can have it your way.' She paused, eyeing him. 'As usual,' she added, and was furious when, instead of being angry, he grinned and looked pleased with himself.
CHAPTER THREE
'No!' Rick burst out, reddening, as soon as Cass suggested his plan. 'Annette isn't spending the night at your place. Over my dead body!'
Sian saw the look in Cass's eye and interrupted before he could retort. 'What does Annette think, though?' she coolly asked, and they all looked at Annette, who seemed quite oblivious of what was going on, her face grey and drawn. She was standing there staring at nothing, but when Sian put an arm around her Annette started violently and looked at her in shock.
'What?'
Sian gently repeated the suggestion that they should both spend the night at the Cassidy house. 'It isn't far from the hospital and if…if we had to get back here in a hurry…'
'I could drive you,' Cass said when Sian paused and looked at him.
Annette didn't even glance at him. She just nodded. 'Thank you.'
Rick frowned. 'Annette, wouldn't you rather go to a hotel or…'
'Be practical,' Cass interrupted curtly. 'At this hour no hotel would take you in. You have no luggage and you look as if you've been dragged through a hedge backwards.'
Rick glared. 'She could stay at her father's house.'
'If she needed to get back here in a hurry she would have to get a taxi, and it's much further away, too. My house is six minutes from here—her father's is at least twenty minutes away, and if she had to get a taxi that could treble the time involved.'
Annette didn't seem to be listening to their heated argument; she stood there with hanging head, hands slack at her side, body trembling slightly. Sian was worried about her. She must be exhausted; emotionally and physically drained. She looked impatiently at the two men. They were supposed to care about the girl. Why were they fighting over her instead of looking after her?