'I'm beginning to realise that.' The quiet reticence had been all he'd seen for a long time, but now he wondered how he had missed the delightful complexity of this young woman. He'd hardly noticed at first that when they disagreed over something to do with the children, although she listened to what he said, somehow he usually ended up agreeing with her without quite knowing how it had happened.
Her recent, more overt rebellions had been impossible to miss, and very taxing on the nerves, but he had to admit they hadn't been boring. Hannah was one book with a very deceptive cover, and, like any good book, once opened almost impossible to put down.
'My survival instincts are pretty well developed.' She was glad of the autumnal chill in the air outside; it cooled her overheated body.
A gardener was working in the communal grounds, collecting the fallen leaves. Ethan called out a greeting to him as he opened the car doors.
'Is that why you married me?'
Hannah blinked in shock as he slid into the car beside her. 'I... I... Why else?' She affected a casual shrug, but the question had really shaken her.
He'd never come right out and asked her before. She'd thought it hadn't mattered to him so long as things were going as he wanted. Was it because he wanted different things now, or did he suspect? The truth had been trembling on the tip of her tongue. She flicked a curious look at his profile. What would he have said if she'd told him the truth?
'Do you mind?' she couldn't stop herself asking.
'Mind the fact you married me for purely practical reasons? Why should I? Under the circumstances it would be a bit hypocritical. If you'd been like Patricia I'd never have suggested it.'
'Who's Patricia?'
"The one in between Sophie and Rebecca,' he said with a frown of concentration as he recalled the roll-call of previous nannies.
'What did Patricia do?'
'Followed me around with big spaniel eyes,' he recalled with a shudder. 'She could always find an excuse to knock on my door in the middle of the night dressed in floaty, transparent things.'
'You mean the poor girl had the bad taste to fall in love with you.' Thank God she had managed to bite back the truth. The idea of him thinking about her like that left a bitter taste in her mouth.
'Love! I doubt that. Infatuation, possibly.'
I’d have thought worship would have been a positive attribute in a prospective bride.'
'Under the circumstances, hardly,' he said with a grimace of distaste.
'You mean she'd have expected you to make love to her?' Hannah suggested. Her chin was tilted at a belligerent angle as she turned to glare at him. 'How perfectly horrid for you. Sleeping with the nanny!' she mocked. 'Whatever next?'
The heaving indignation was not wasted on Ethan. 'It's plain ridiculous to compare yourself with what's-her-name, and you know it. So don't get all uppity with me.'
'From where I'm sitting the similarities jump up and hit you in the face.'
'Did you expect me to make love to you?" he shot back.
'No!' Dream, crave and yearn for it, yes. Expect, no!
'Exactly,' he replied triumphantly. 'You didn't marry me thinking I could walk on water either.'
She could say no in all honesty to this. In her case love hadn't been blind, just reckless! 'I didn't hold it against you that you couldn't.'
'You're generous to a fault,' he agreed drily. 'Seriously, it would have been a disaster to enter into a marriage with some starry-eyed female who needed constant reassurance. Perhaps more marriages should be based on friendship.'
'We weren't friends,' she reminded him uncoopera-tively. What female with blood in her veins would have been co-operative in her place? she thought indignantly. He had some hide, singing the praises of platonic marriage when everyone knew he'd been crazy about Catherine! He'd had it—why should he imagine she didn't want the opportunity to experience the wild impracticability of mutual love? Was she being unreasonable and greedy wanting more?
'But we are now?'
If she'd been standing on the particular rug that question had pulled from under her feet, she'd have been flat on her back. Fortunately she was enclosed by soft, supportive leather upholstery which cushioned the impact considerably.
'I...we...possibly,' she finished lamely. She ought to be glad he thought of her as a friend. Only his words triggered a seething sense of dissatisfaction.
'That's what I like to hear: an unequivocal endorsement. Let's skip over the friends bit. We're lovers, or aren't you sure about that either?'
'I'm not in the witness box,' she retorted. Just as well too, considering!
'There was no compulsion...'
Speak for yourself, she thought, quashing an alarming desire to indulge in hysterical laughter. 'Compulsion' summed up her feelings for this man pretty well.