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‘Think about what I’ve told you,’ he said, bending down to the open window. ‘And make your decision accordingly.’
‘Grant!’ A woman came hurrying from the door of the white brick house. When she reached Grant, she put her arm around his waist and offered her cheek for his kiss. ‘You finally got here. I was beginning to lose hope.’ She grinned. ‘And just look at what you brought with you,’ she said, patting the lion’s head. ‘Tommy’s going to adore it!’
Grant’s frown lessened. ‘You think so?’
‘I know so.’ The woman linked her arm through his. ‘See? I was right—you knew just what to get him after all.’
He shrugged almost grudgingly. ‘Well, I can’t really take the credit, Marilyn. It was my assistant, Hannah Lewis, who—’
‘Miss Lewis?’ The woman, a smaller, softer version of Grant, leaned down and peered into the cab. ‘Is that you in there?’
Hannah nodded and forced a smile to her lips. ‘Yes.’
‘Honestly, Grant, where are your manners?’ His sister flung the door open. ‘Come on out, say hello, and join the party.’
Hannah shrank back in the seat. ‘No. No, thank you. I—I—’
‘She has to get home.’ Grant’s voice was harsh. ‘She has someone waiting for her.’ He gave Hannah a cold look. ‘Isn’t that right, Hannah?’
‘Uncle Grant!’ Grant turned just as a little boy flew down the steps. His face softened, and he bent and caught him in one arm. ‘Mommy said you’d be here.’ The child’s face lit with pleasure. ‘Is that lion for me?’
Grant nodded solemnly. ‘He sure is. Do you like him?’
Tommy threw his arms around the creature’s neck. ‘I love him! Did you pick him out all by yourself?’
Marilyn laughed softly. ‘The kid knows his uncle.’
Grant ruffled the boy’s hair. ‘Well, I had a little help.’ He motioned towards Hannah, still seated in the taxi. ‘From that lady.’
Tommy leaned down and looked in the window. ‘Aren’t you gonna come have some birthday cake?’
‘No,’ she said, ‘I can’t.’
‘Please?’ he asked solemnly, and, once Hannah had looked into his round blue eyes, what could she possibly say except ‘yes’?
CHAPTER FIVE
THE party was a very small one, with only Tommy, his parents, Grant and Hannah present. There was cake and ice-cream, and balloons in the shapes of animals, and Hannah quickly realised that she needn’t be concerned that the coolness between Grant and herself would spoil the festivities.
The spotlight was firmly on Tommy, thanks not only to his doting parents but to his Uncle Grant, as well. The boy was generous with his affection, and Grant more than returned every bit of that love to his nephew, with an openness and warmth that amazed Hannah.
Within minutes, he had cast off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves so he could sprawl on the carpet and help Tommy build a castle of blocks. It ended with man and boy engaged in a fierce battle over who could demolish the castle the quickest—and laugh the hardest. Mean MacLean indeed, Hannah thought incredulously. Who’d have believed it?
Grant’s sister slipped to her side and smiled. ‘Grant and my son have a special relationship,’ she said softly.
Hannah smiled back. ‘So I see.’
Marilyn sighed wistfully. ‘It’s just too bad he hasn’t a family of his own. He’d make a wonderful father.’ She looked at Hannah. ‘Have you children, Hannah?’
Hannah shook her head. ‘No. No, I haven’t.’
‘Ah. You’re not married, then?’
‘No. Well, I was. But——’
“annah?’
Hannah looked down. Tommy was tugging gently at her skirt. Her expression softened as she squatted down beside him.
‘What is it, sweetheart?’
The child handed her one of the candle-holders from his cake, a tiny blue plastic teddy-bear smeared with icing.
‘For me?’ Hannah asked, smiling.
The boy nodded solemnly. Somehow, he’d got the idea that she had given him her very own lion. Now he was offering a gift in its place.
‘So’s you won’t be lonely,’ he said.
A swift, fierce pain clutched at Hannah’s heart. She wanted to sweep the child into her arms and bury her face in his neck. Instead, she reached out and brushed the curls back from his forehead.
‘Thank you,’ she said gravely, ‘I certainly might have been lonely without my lion, but now——’
‘It isn’t necessary to patronise the child, Hannah.’
She looked up quickly. All the warmth had fled from Grant’s face. He was watching her coldly and she recoiled, almost as if he’d slapped her in the face.
‘Grant!’ His sister stepped forward, but it was too late. Hannah had already risen to her feet.
‘It’s getting awfully late,’ she said, trying desperately to look anywhere but at the dark, angry face looming above her. ‘I—I really must be going.’
‘Nonsense,’ Marilyn said briskly, but Grant’s voice cut sharply across hers.
‘I told you,’ he said as he pulled on his jacket, ‘Miss Lewis has someone waiting for her.’ Their eyes met. ‘And we wouldn’t want to keep her any longer.’
He insisted on phoning for a cab and seeing her home. He gave the driver her address, then sat back and folded his arms across his chest. They rode in silence; when they reached Hannah’s house, she almost sprang from the taxi, but not quickly enough. Grant was right behind her.
‘You don’t have to see me up.’
‘Afraid your boyfriend will get the wrong idea?’
Her eyes flashed with anger, but she said nothing. It was clear she would not get rid of Grant unless she let him play this charade through, and so she spun on her heel and strode into the building and up the stairs.
When they reached her door, she turned and faced him.
‘You told me to think things over,’ she said.
Grant nodded. ‘And?’
‘And,’ she snapped, ‘I quit.’
His face t
ightened. ‘I expected that.’
Hannah lifted her head in defiance. ‘I’ll give you two weeks to find a replacement. In return, I’ll expect a month’s severance pay and a letter of recommendation.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘You don’t know the meaning of that word.’
He clasped her shoulder as she began to swing away from him. ‘Tell me the truth,’ he said gruffly. ‘Is there really a man waiting for you tonight?’
Hannah’s heart gave a lurch. He was standing much too close to her, and she didn’t like it. There was something about standing this way, in the dark, with the door at her back and Grant’s body just brushing hers, that made her feel—trapped.
No. Not trapped. She felt—she felt…
‘Well?’ he demanded. ‘Is there?’
She stared at him in defiance. Her fury made her want to assure him that there was, but all at once she knew there was something more at stake here, something she couldn’t quite understand but couldn’t quite fight against, either.
She blew out her breath. ‘No.’
‘Then why…?’
‘Because you had no right to speak to me as you did. Because I’m tired of you behaving as if you’re God. Because——’ To her dismay, her eyes filled with tears and she swung away.
‘Why are you crying?’ Grant caught hold of her again and turned her to face him. ‘Dammit, Hannah——’
She wrenched free of his grasp. ‘Look, I don’t know what game it is you’re playing, but——’
‘Don’t you?’
Their eyes met. Hannah’s heart gave an uncomfortable little kick.
‘You’re wasting your time,’ she said as she dug her keys from her purse. ‘I’m not interested.’
‘Really.’
‘Yes. Really. Prepare yourself for a shock, Grant. There are women in this world who can get along very nicely without a man to muck up their lives!’
He laughed. ‘There are men who feel the same way.’ His hand closed over hers as she stabbed her key into the lock. ‘Me, for instance.’
She looked up at him. ‘Please, Grant, don’t treat me as if I’m a fool. I’ve been working for you for five months, remember? I’ve seen your appointment calendar, I’ve taken your calls… You’re hardly a candidate for woman-hater of the year!’
