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Her heart gave a funny little lurch. ‘I—I think it’s lovely,’ she said. ‘Where did you ever find it?’
He smiled. ‘The travel agent recommended it. He said it was the perfect honeymoon spot.’
Hannah swung away from him. The perfect honeymoon spot. Yes, she supposed you’d certainly call it that—and as removed from the sort of place Sally had visited as day was from night. You didn’t need to be a genius to figure out that there wouldn’t be an organised activity in sight, just that impossibly blue ocean and long, deserted stretches of white sand, perfect for a bare handful of couples who would have eyes only for each other.
Why would Grant have chosen such a place? There was surely a limit to how far they had to play this little drama, especially now that they were safely out of sight of the people they knew. Being at a place such as this was only going to embarrass them. They wouldn’t share any activities. Grant had already asked her if she knew how to scuba-dive and she’d told him she didn’t.
‘You don’t know what you’re missing,’ he’d said, with a smile.
Perhaps. But he could dive all he wished, while she found a shady spot under a palm tree and read the handful of paperback books she’d brought with her. In the confines of a large, busy hotel, such behaviour would probably have gone unnoticed. But here, in the midst of all this togetherness, the two of them would stand out like—like mismatched linen on the oversized bed that dominated the bedroom of the suite.
‘Shall I draw the bed curtains back, sir?’ the bellman had asked with a little smile, as if he had seen hundreds of honeymoon couples and knew where they would be the moment he left them alone.
But not them. Not she and Grant. A little knot tightened within Hannah’s breast.
‘Hannah? Do you like it?’
She blinked and looked at Grant again. Why didn’t he take off those glasses? It was unnerving, not being able to see his eyes.
She gave him a quick smile. ‘It’s—it’s very pretty.’
Grant grinned. ‘Very pretty? I think the management would kill itself if it heard you use such a tepid phrase to describe Paradise.’
Her smile was more genuine this time. ‘Paradise?’
‘Paraiso. Paradise. That’s what it says on the towels.’ He laughed as he leaned away from the door and strolled towards the built-in bar on the far side of the room. ‘Don’t look at me that way—I didn’t pick the name.’
‘No. Only the place.’
‘Yes,’ he said, as if he didn’t hear the sharpness in her tone, ‘I’ll take the credit for that.’ He whistled softly as he took a bottle of champagne from its ice bucket. ‘Dom Perignon,’ he said, ‘and a vintage year. Very nice.’
‘What made you choose this place, Grant?’
He nodded his head towards the windows. ‘Take your pick. “Dazzling white beaches, water the colour of the sky…”’ The cork popped softly and golden wine foamed lightly over the bottle top. ‘Just what the travel agent promised.’
‘And very much off the beaten track.’
‘That, too.’ He poured champagne into two crystal flutes, then held one out to her. ‘A newly-weds’ hideaway.’
Their eyes met, and something in the way he looked at her made Hannah flush.
‘I—I don’t think I want any wine, thank you.’
‘Don’t be silly. This is our honeymoon.’ She looked at him, caught by a sudden tension in his voice, but she could tell nothing from the little she could see of his face. ‘Go on,’ he said, more gently, ‘it’ll relax you. You look all keyed up.’
Hannah hesitated, then reached for the glass. ‘I’m just tired. It was a long flight.’
‘And a long day.’
‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘It was.’
Grant sighed as he pulled off his sunglasses and tossed them on the bar.
‘Marilyn went a little overboard, I guess.’ He took a sip of his wine. When he spoke again, his voice sounded gruff. ‘Was today anything like your first wedding?’
‘No,’ she said, ‘it wasn’t.’
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘You went the whole route then. White gown, church, bridesmaids…’
Hannah shook her head as she thought back to that impetuous teenage marriage performed at City Hall.
‘Actually,’ she said softly, ‘this was much nicer. Having the ceremony at home, with your family there…’ She cleared her throat. ‘And you? What was your wedding like?’
Grant smiled. ‘My ex believed in extravaganzas,’ he said. ‘We had everything but dancing girls, and I think the only reason she didn’t include them was because she was afraid they might steal her thunder.’ He took a swallow of champagne. ‘To tell you the truth, I think it’s all overrated. It seems to me that what we did this time is a hell of a lot more honest.’
Hannah’s smile faded. So much for making small talk, she thought. Sooner or later they would always get back to the reason they were together, not only for the next week but for the duration of their agreement, she and this man who was her husband, this—this stranger.
She felt a sudden jolt of despair. Why had she let him insist on this travesty of a honeymoon? It was bad enough she’d let him back her into this marriage, but——
‘Hannah.’ She looked up. Grant was watching her with a quiet intensity. ‘You think I should have picked someplace less private, don’t you?’
She flushed. ‘I think it would have been easier, yes.’
He smiled slightly. ‘Who knows? You may enjoy the next week more than you expect. Maybe we’ll each take home some pleasant memories.’
His words sent an unexpected stab of pain into her heart. The reaction troubled her, and she dealt with it the only way she could, by beating a quick retreat to the safety of reality.
‘It doesn’t really matter, does it?’ she said steadily. ‘I mean, this isn’t a real honeymoon, Grant, and we both know it, no matter what the rest of the world thinks.’
‘Yes.’ His smile was gone, as swiftly as if it had been wiped from his face. He scowled and tossed off the rest of his wine, then refilled his glass. ‘And I suppose, sooner or later, we might as well get down to basics.’
Basics. Yes, of course. They’d never really had the chance to talk about what would have to be done: the selection of a doctor, all the technical details the magazine articles glossed over. That was what this was all about, wasn’t it? Having a baby. It wasn’t the usual way, but neither of them wanted that.
Hannah drew in her breat
h, then expelled it. ‘Yes, we probably should get down to basics. I—I meant to ask you, in San Francisco…’ Their eyes met, and a flush rose in her cheeks. ‘Do you—do you know how to do it?’
Grant’s brows lifted. ‘How to do what?’
‘The—the procedure,’ she said stiffly. ‘What will be required when——’ She broke off in mid-sentence and her flush deepened. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘I’m afraid I don’t, Hannah. I’m not very good at mind-reading.’
He looked puzzled and sounded innocent, damn him, but he was making fun of her! She knew it, just as he knew that talking about this part of their agreement embarrassed her.
‘Well? Are you going to tell me what you’re talking about, or am I supposed to guess?’
She took a deep breath.
‘The baby,’ she said calmly. ‘I know a little about how we go about it, but not very much. I wondered if you——’ Her flush deepened. ‘I don’t see what’s so amusing, Grant,’ she said stiffly. ‘It’s a perfectly reasonable question.’
‘Cute,’ he said softly. ‘Very cute. I have to admit, I wouldn’t have pegged you for playing games, Hannah, but hell, if that’s what you want to do——’
‘Cute? What’s cute?’ Her eyes widened as he put down his glass, then took hers and put it down, too. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I thought it might take me a while to get you into the mood, but…’ He smiled as he took her into his arms. ‘I’ve always believed in accommodating a woman’s wishes.’
Hannah stared at him. ‘Grant?’ A rill of panic threaded her voice as he gathered her closer. ‘Grant, stop!’
‘Actually,’ he said softly, ‘I’ve been negligent, darling.’ His hands spread on her shoulders. ‘Here we are, husband and wife, and I’ve yet to kiss you.’
