‘Hannah?’
The knock at the door, and the determined sound of Grant’s voice, were almost simultaneous.
‘Go away,’ she said.
‘Open the door, Hannah.’
He sounded as if he might break it down. Hannah sighed, reached for the knob, and yanked it open.
‘We’ve nothing to say to each other, Grant.’
He walked past her, surprisingly cool for a man who’d just endured such a nasty little scene.
‘Our guests asked me to say goodnight.’
Her cheeks coloured. ‘Did they?’
He peered at a painting on the wall as if he’d never seen it before. ‘That was one hell of a performance you just gave.’
Hannah’s chin lifted. ‘If you or your—your ladyfriend expects an apology——’
‘I told Magda to buy herself a new dress and send you the bill.’
‘Me?’ Hannah laughed, although she didn’t feel much like laughing. ‘That was a waste of time, Grant. I couldn’t afford to pay it—even if I wanted to.’
‘Of course you can,’ he said mildly. ‘There’s plenty of money in your account.’
‘There’s plenty of money in Hannah MacLean’s account, you mean.’ She strode past him to the bedroom, switched on the light and opened the wardrobe closet and pulled it open. ‘But not in Hannah Lewis’s,’ she said, as she began tossing her things on the bed.
‘What are you doing?’
‘What does it look as if I’m doing?’
Grant shrugged and leaned back against the wall, his arms folded over his chest.
‘There’s no rush, Hannah. You don’t have to get your things moved out tonight. It can wait till morning.’
Her throat constricted, although why should it? She’d known what he was doing, that he was telling her to get out of his life. And that was what she wanted, what she’d wanted all along.
‘What can’t wait until morning is an explanation.’
‘There’s nothing to talk about.’
His tone hardened. ‘I want an explanation of what happened in that library.’
Hannah’s face burned. ‘I told you, I’m not going to apologise. Anyway, you made your point.’
‘Did I?’
‘Yes. But it wasn’t necessary. You knew I wanted to end this—this marriage. You didn’t have to—to…’ Her voice broke. Dammit! She wasn’t going to break down in front of him. And there was no reason. No reason at all.
‘Hannah.’ Grant’s hands closed lightly on her shoulders. ‘Hannah, turn around and look at me.’
‘No.’
Slowly, gently, he turned her towards him. When she looked down, he put his hand under her chin and urged her head up.
‘If you’re glad our relationship is over, why are you so upset?’ he asked softly.
‘Why am I…? You—you humiliated me. You——’
‘Is that the only reason?’
‘Yes. Of course. I have my pride too, you know. You’re not the only one…’
But he was. He was the only one, the only man she would ever love. She had loved him all along, despite the lies she’d told herself.
A sob burst from her throat.
‘Go away,’ she whispered. ‘Grant, please, if you ever had any respect for me…’
‘What I hoped,’ he said, his hands framing her face, ‘was that maybe you were upset because I’d made you jealous.’
‘Jealous?’ Hannah sniffed. ‘Me? Why on earth would I be——?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, very softly. ‘Maybe because you love me.’
His eyes were boring into hers. She wanted to look away from him, but how could she, when he was holding her face between his hands?
‘This is ridiculous,’ she said. ‘If you think you can humiliate me more than—than I’ve already humiliated myself——’
He stopped her words with a gentle kiss. When he drew back, he was smiling.
‘I’m even wondering if perhaps you love me as much as I love you.’
Hannah’s eyes grew wide.
‘Did you hear me, sweetheart? I love you. I love you as I never dreamed it possible to love anyone.’
Her heart skipped a beat, then began to race like an engine out of control.
‘Grant,’ she said shakily. ‘Do you—do you mean it?’
‘I don’t even know when it happened. Maybe it was when you snatched that black nightgown out of my hands. Maybe it was when you served me a cup of the worst coffee any man’s ever endured, or when you gave yourself to me that night, beside the pool.’
‘But—but tonight…’
‘Hell.’ He shook his head. ‘Tonight was the act of a desperate man. We couldn’t talk without resorting to accusations. And you turned to ice when I tried to tell you how I felt before.’
‘When?’ Hannah breathed. ‘When before?’
‘That morning, in Mexico. I started to ask
you to go with me to a little town where we could be properly married, without any nonsense about contracts or——’
‘But that was why you’d asked me to marry you in the first place. So you could have a child.’
Grant sighed and rubbed his cheek against her hair. ‘That’s true. I’d thought about having a child on and off for a long time—but it was always in the abstract. Hell, having a child meant getting involved with a woman, and I’d no wish to do that ever again. But then you came along—and suddenly the idea of having a baby seemed very enticing.’
‘But not too enticing.’ She looked at him. ‘You only wanted a marriage with a built-in divorce clause.’
‘And so did you.’
Hannah nodded. ‘I told myself it was the only arrangement that suited me——’
‘Yes, darling.’ He smiled. ‘Neither of us was willing to admit we’d fallen in love.’
‘I know in my heart that I’d never have agreed to marry you for any reason but love.’
Grant gathered her close. ‘You do love me, then,’ he said softly, and Hannah tilted her head up to him and smiled.
‘Oh, yes,’ she whispered. ‘I knew it that night, in Mexico. When you set me free, I looked into my heart—and realised I’d loved you for a long, long time.’
‘But if you knew how you felt, why did you want to end things?’
Hannah sighed. ‘Once I knew I loved you, how could I have lived with you, then given you up when you tired of me?’
‘Hannah, sweetheart.’ Grant drew her close and kissed her. ‘I’ll never tire of you, not if we both live to be a hundred.’
Tears rose in Hannah’s eyes; she smiled through them and looped her arms around his neck. ‘Poor Magda. What must she think?’
Grant grinned. ‘Don’t feel sorry for her, love. She enjoyed herself tonight; I suspect she likes playing the role of sex goddess more in public than she’s capable of performing it in private.’
‘And your partners.’ Hannah buried her face in his shoulder. ‘And their wives. Just imagine what they must be saying.’
‘Yup. They probably haven’t had this much excitement in decades.’ He laughed softly. ‘We’ll make it up to them, and to Magda, too, by inviting them all to our wedding. A real wedding, darling. You will marry me again, won’t you?’