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Мортимер Кэрол
Lifelong Affair
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CHAPTER TWO
MORGAN blinked; she was too stunned to do anything more than that. She was overjoyed, thrilled, at the thought of her nephew being alive and well. But she had no idea how both Alex Hammond and herself could be the baby’s guardians, one living in England, the other in America.
Obviously Alex Hammond couldn’t either. ‘Of course it’s impossible,’ he said abruptly, placing his briefcase on her dining table. ‘I have some documents here,’ he unclicked the lock. ‘Legal documents, drawn up by my lawyers, relieving you of all moral and legal obligation to Courtney.’
Morgan stood up slowly, feeling the anger burning up from within her. Just who did this man think he was! He came here and told her that her beloved sister was dead but that the child she had been expecting was alive. And now he calmly suggested she reliquish all rights to that child. The man was insane!
‘No,’ she told him bluntly.
He raised dark brows, halting in the removal of the official-looking papers from his briefcase. ‘No?’
‘Certainly not!’ Her green eyes sparkled in challenge, her tall slender body as taut as a ripcord in her fury. ‘Courtney is my nephew, and if my sister wanted me to be his guardian then that’s what I intend being.’
‘He has two guardians,’ Alex reminded her. ‘You and I.’
‘So Glenna made a mistake,’ Morgan snapped. ‘Nobody’s perfect!’
The haughty face took on an even more withdrawn expression. ‘I don’t believe insults are going to help the delicacy of this situation,’ he told her quietly.
‘Neither is your insensitivity,’ she glared at him. ‘My sister has just died,’ weakness washed over her in waves, ‘and now you calmly suggest I reject her son from my life—my own nephew, my parents’ only grandson!’ Her voice rose shrilly.
‘My nephew too, my mother’s only grandson,’ he pointed out dryly.
‘But not her only grandchild! And when you have a son—–’
‘The same applies to you in regard to your own parents.’
She gave an impatient sigh at the way this man had an answer for everything. ‘Giving up my guardianship of Court is not—–’
‘Courtney,’ he substituted firmly.
‘Court is short for—–’
‘He was named Courtney, let’s stick to that, shall we?’ he said abruptly.
‘I’m sure Glenna meant it to be shortened to Court, like my father,’ she insisted stubbornly.
‘But Glenna isn’t here—–’
‘You bastard!’ Morgan choked raggedly. ‘You cold-blooded, unfeeling bastard! You—–’ she sank slowly to the floor as blackness overcame her.
She woke up to find herself stretched full length on the corner unit sofa, her head propped up by several cushions, the darkly intent face of Alex Hammond bent over her. She snatched her hand away selfconsciously as she realised it was held between long tapered fingers, the fingers of the other hand lightly tapping against her pale cheek.
Alex Hammond moved back instantly and sat back on his heels, seeming unexerted from having to carry her to the sofa; and she might be thin, but she wasn’t a lightweight. Still, those shoulders and arms looked capable of great strength.
She sat up awkwardly, moving back and away from him. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said abruptly.
He nodded distantly. ‘I’ve been expecting something like it ever since I arrived and found the press harassing you.’
‘How clever of you!’ Her voice was brittle.
Alex stood up, very dark and forbidding in Morgan’s openly bright apartment, dwarfing it. ‘You were at cracking point. I doubt you’ve slept all night. I had no idea of the added worry of your father’s illness.’
Morgan swung her legs to the ground and stood up, feeling at less of a disadvantage, her own height being considerable, although Alex Hammond still topped her by a head. She swayed slightly as she stood, not as recovered as she thought she was, although her back was straight, her gaze steady as she faced Alex Hammond across the room. Like adversaries. And she had a feeling that was exactly what they were.
‘It was waiting for your call that stopped me sleeping.’ Her words were defensive because of the weakness she had shown by fainting in that way. ‘You didn’t have to come all the way to Los Angeles, you could have explained everything over the telephone and saved yourself the trouble of flying out here. I could have told you no just as easily that way,’ she added hardly.
His mouth tightened. ‘You won’t even look at the papers I brought with me?’
‘No.’
‘Even though you know Courtney will be better off with us in England?’
‘And who is us?’ she derided scornfully. ‘You and your mother? A bitter and resentful widow and an unfeeling man?’
Icy grey eyes raked over her with cool disdain. ‘Or a fun-loving young actress with no morals?’ he rasped.
‘You mean me?’ she gasped. ‘Where did you get that impression, Mr Hammond?’
‘Glenna was very proud of your first English televised role,’ he drawled. ‘We were all made to watch your undoubted talent as Mary-Beth Barker.’
That was what she had thought. ‘Talent is the right word, Mr Hammond,’ she taunted. ‘I was acting a part—I thought you were intelligent enough to realise that.’
‘Maybe I am,’ he nodded. ‘But I have no reason to believe Courtney would be happier with you than with us. You must work very hard, very long hours. I doubt you would have a lot of time to bring up a young child.’
She dismissed the wisdom of his words. Glenna had wanted her to have a part in bringing up Court, and that was what she was going to do. ‘I have a plane to catch, Mr Hammond,’ she told him briskly. ‘I have to get to the airport.’
He closed his briefcase with a decisive click. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘That won’t be necessary.’
‘It’s very necessary,’ he told her grimly. ‘I have a seat on that plane too.’
‘Oh.’ Her eyes were narrowed. ‘You didn’t intend staying long. Or were you so sure of what you thought my answer would be that you just expected to come here, have me sign those documents, and then return home?’ Her eyes took on a dangerous sheen as she saw by the tightening of his mouth that that was exactly what he had thought. ‘Glenna wasn’t happy with your family, Mr Hammond,’ she told him frostily. ‘I’m beginning to understand why.’
‘Indeed?’ he bit out grimly.
‘Yes!’
‘And I’m beginning to see that you’re as uncompromising as your sister was. Oh yes, we knew of Glenna’s unhappiness,’ he mocked her gasp of surprise. ‘She made no secret of the fact. But I think I should point out once again that Glenna gave her son two guardians, she didn’t cut the Hammonds out of Courtney’s life as if she hated us.’
Morgan wondered if this man had a habit of always being right; if he did it was an annoying habit! ‘Instead of arguing I suggest we get to the airport—I wouldn’t want to miss the plane. I’ll just go into my bedroom and call my mother at the hospital. She’s been as anxious as I have.’
If Alex Hammond was affected by her deliberate move to shame him he didn’t show it, settling his long length into a chair, sitting back to close his eyes with a weary sigh.
Guilt instantly washed over her. This man might seem like a cold robot to her, but his brother had just died, and he had just spent all those hours on a plane; he must be exhausted. ‘Can I get you some coffee?’ she offered huskily. ‘Or something to eat?’
His eyes flickered open, silver-grey, showing no sign of the tiredness she suspected. ‘Tea?’ he queried hopefully.
Morgan smiled, and the tension instantly eased between them. ‘I have tea,’ she nodded. ‘It’s a habit I picked up when I went to England for the wedding. Milk, sugar?’
‘Thanks,’ he nodded.
Her mother came to the telephone straight away once she had been paged, and it was the hardest thing in the world to tell her that Glenna really was dead; her mother finally broke down now that she knew there was no hope of ever seeing her elder daughter again. Morgan broke down and cried with her, offering no resistance as Alex Hammond came in and took over, too overcome by grief herself now that her shock was passing to talk coherently.
‘Your mother is overjoyed by her grandson’s existence,’ Alex Hammond rang off to assure her. ‘She hopes she and your father can go to England to see him soon. In the meantime, I don’t think you’re in any condition to fly to England. Maybe it would be better—–’
‘I’m coming with you,’ Morgan told him determinedly. ‘I want to see Court-ney, and also I have to—to attend Glenna’s funeral. Someone from the family should be there.’ She went to the bathroom and washed her face in cold water. ‘I take it the funeral will be in England.’
‘As soon as—Yes,’ he substituted abruptly. ‘Eventually.’
Her spine stiffened at the addition of the last word. ‘I understand,’ she said heavily. ‘I’m ready to leave now.’
‘Are you sure—–’
‘I’m very sure.’ Her expression was stubborn.
‘Your work?’
‘Will just have to wait,’ she told him with bravado, not in the least sure how the studio would react to her taking off like this. They surely couldn’t object to a couple of days, not in the circumstances. If they did they would just have to sue. She doubted they would want to do that. ‘I intend coming with you, Mr Hammond—make no mistake about that.’
‘Then perhaps you’d better call me Alex,’ he derided. ‘I don’t intend calling you Miss McKay for the next twelve hours or so.’
‘Morgan,’ she supplied abruptly.
‘I know that,’ he nodded. ‘Glenna spoke of you often.’
She would have liked to return the compliment, but Glenna had been surprisingly reticent about her brother-in-law, talking about him little, and then only in connection with Mark being at work. Apparently Alex Hammond kept to himself, spending little time with the family.
‘Feel up to braving the media again?’ he queried distantly. ‘I doubt if they’ve left yet. Especially if news of survivors has filtered through.’
Completely in control of herself now, Morgan was able to move determinedly at Alex Hammond’s side as they made their way downstairs to get into the cab that he had ordered to wait for them ten minutes ago as she cried. Alex ignored the questions thrown at them; his expression was distant, his hold on Morgan’s arm unbreakable, despite the pushing and jostling going on about them.
‘The airport,’ he instructed the cab driver arrogantly, pushing Morgan in the car ahead of him.
She wasn’t used to being dominated in this way. She had been brought up to be independent, to stand up for herself; Alex Hammond was obviously used to being dominant with the women in his life.
Morgan studied him curiously on the drive to the airport. There could be no doubting that he was very attractive, in an austere way, and yet Glenna had never mentioned him having a woman in his life. But he certainly didn’t like men! His gaze had been critical of her, but it had definitely been male in its intent. No doubt there were women from time to time, just nothing serious. She wondered why. Alex was thirty-eight, surely that was quite old for a man not to have been married. He probably thought twenty-six was old for a woman not to have married either!
‘Something funny?’
Her smile faded as she realised he was looking at her. ‘Not really,’ she dismissed. ‘Is Courtney at your home?’
Alex shook his head. ‘He’s being kept in hospital for a few days. It’s a standard thing for new babies,’ he added at her worried frown. ‘He really is very well, Morgan. Perfectly healthy, even if he is eight weeks premature.’
‘Thank God!’ she shuddered.
‘Yes,’ he agreed curtly.
All was chaos at the airport; the members of the media who had been outside her home had obviously telephoned ahead to their colleagues, for a dozen or so reporters were continuing the harassment. Morgan wasn’t in the least surprised when Alex secured a private lounge for them, and strode off to deal with their seats himself.
Morgan took this opportunity to call Sam and Jerry, something she hadn’t had time to do in the trauma of the last hour. Sam was very understanding, and Jerry had already rearranged the work schedule to allow her to take a week off. A week should be long enough to convince the Hammonds that Glenna’s baby belonged with her.
‘Just don’t be any longer than that,’ Jerry warned in a growl, ‘or the wrath of Zorbo will come down around your head!’
Morgan laughed softly, ringing off. Frank Zorbo was a small Greek man, the head of A.M.X. Broadcasting Company, and quite harmless until something put out his carefully organised programme schedule. Then he was like a roaring tornado.
‘Everything is organised,’ Alex came back to assure her. ‘We’ll be boarding in a few minutes.’
For the moment it just felt good to let him take over the details; her mind was not functioning as fluently as it usually did. Alex looked as if nothing ever deterred or upset him.
It came as a surprise to her when she was shown into the first class section of the plane, to the seat next to Alex Hammond. She had been booked into a seat much farther down the plane, had been told that there were no other seats available.
‘I already had a seat reserved for you,’ Alex told her at her qustioning look.
Her eyes widened. ‘You knew I would be coming with you?’
‘I told you, Glenna talked of you a lot. I was able to assess what your reaction would be.’
‘But you flew over here yourself anyway?’
‘It was worth a try,’ he shrugged.
‘Never,’ she shook her head firmly. ‘I’ll never give Courtney up.’
Alex sighed. ‘I suggest we save any further talk of the baby until a less emotional time.’
Morgan instantly felt guilty. This man had another long flight in front of him—he was likely to meet himself on the way back!—and what he needed at the moment was to rest. She deliberately stopped talking, although her tension began to rise as the engines of the plane roared for take-off. Everything had happened so suddenly, so quickly, that until this moment she hadn’t given a thought to the flight itself. Glenna and Mark had just died in an aircraft very similar to this one, what if—–
‘It won’t happen, Morgan.’ Strong fingers clasped about hers, gently reassuring.
She had never thought of herself as a weak or dependent woman, and yet at that moment she was petrified, turning into the comfortable width of shoulder at her side, clinging on to Alex Hammond as if they were lovers.
Only when the plane was safely in the air did she move away from him. ‘I’m sorry,’ her lashes were downcast in her embarrassment at breaking down in that way. ‘I’m not usually—well, I don’t normally—’
‘Forget it,’ he dismissed abruptly. ‘I already have.’
It wasn’t the normal reaction a man had to holding her in his arms, and it irked her somewhat that this man was so immune to the female form. The man was a damned robot!
It didn’t in the least surprise her when he fell asleep shortly after take-off, and she remained quietly at his side, guessing that he needed the rest. And if the truth were known she needed a little time to herself, to think quietly, to realise that she and the man at her side had sole responsibility for a tiny baby who would never know his real parents, who would be denied a mother’s love. Morgan vowed on that long flight that she would be the mother to Courtney that Glenna had intended her to be—no matter what the Hammonds said or did!
Alex had left his Mercedes parked at the airport, and with the ease with which she was coming to expect from him he saw them through Customs and into the car, driving them to the Hammond house in Surrey himself.
‘Courtney—–’
‘I’ll drive you to see him tomorrow,’ Alex interrupted abruptly. ‘I believe we may be able to bring him home then.’
Morgan couldn’t help the sudden rush of colour in her cheeks. It sounded curiously intimate for the two of them to be bringing home a baby. Obviously Alex thought so too.
‘A nanny will be engaged for him,’ he added harshly.
‘No!’
‘It’s the best way—–’
‘It may be your best way, Alex,’ she scorned, ignoring the tiredness still about his eyes, the fact that he must be feeling exhausted, knowing only that if she gave in to him over this then she would be continually doing so, ‘but I happen to believe Courtney needs a mother’s love, not the impersonality of a transient nanny.’
‘A mother’s love is something we can’t give him!’ Alex rasped.
‘I can,’ Morgan told him heatedly, her eyes flashing deeply green. ‘I intend adopting him as my own son.’
Grey eyes snapped with anger. ‘That might be a little difficult,’ he ground out.
She eyed him warily. ‘Why?’
‘Both guardians have to agree to any plans involving Courtney,’ he pointed out grimly.
She stiffened, turning in the leather seat to look at him, aware that he looked very weary, lines of strain beside his eyes and mouth, the latter a taut line of aggression. ‘And you won’t agree to my adopting Courtney?’ she asked softly.
‘No.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t believe it would be in his best interests.’
‘Don’t talk down to me, Alex Hammond!’ she snapped. ‘just say what you mean. You don’t think a “fun-loving young actress with no morals” a suitable mother for him, that’s it, isn’t it?’
He sighed heavily. ‘I wish I’d never made that remark. I suppose I’m to have it thrown up at me periodically during our association?’
‘That won’t be for long! I’m returning to Los Angeles as soon as possible.’
‘Without Courtney.’
‘With him.’
‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘Not unless I agree. And I don’t. Don’t you think this is a little soon to start arguing about Courtney’s future?’
‘With you I have a feeling it’s never too soon to start arguing!’
To her surprise the austere features broke into a smile, and Alex instantly looked younger, incredibly handsome, the grooves in his cheeks ones of humour this time, unfamiliar grooves, as if he smiled little. Morgan had a feeling that he didn’t, and she wondered at the reason for his harshness. A woman in the past, perhaps? That was usually the reason a man with Alex’s intelligence retreated into himself. Perhaps he hadn’t been able to take rejection. Whatever the reason, his humour now was totally unexpected. She gave him a questioning look.
His mouth quirked. ‘You’re the only one who does argue with me,’ he drawled.
‘Really?’ She smiled too now.
‘Really,’ he nodded.
‘That’s incredible.’
‘Yes.’
‘And that’s arrogant!’
‘No,’ he smiled again. ‘It’s quite exhilarating, actually.’
Now why on earth should she blush like a schoolgirl at the thought of Alex Hammond finding something about her exhilarating? Maybe it was because he was a challenge, the original ice man.
But she wasn’t here to find him a challenge, she was here to get Courtney and return home. And she would do it.
It needed all her self-confidence to enter the Hammond house with him a short time later; she was wary about meeting Rita Hammond again. They hadn’t exactly taken to each other when they met two years ago, and she had no reason to think the other woman would be any more kindly disposed towards her. The opposite if she also believed in the part of Mary-Beth being Morgan’s own nature!
If Rita Hammond had been sedated the day before there was no sign of it today. The woman was tall, almost as tall as her son, her iron-grey hair perfectly coiffured, her make-up impeccable despite her sixty years, her taste in clothes sophisticated and flattering to her slender figure.
She looked at Morgan with flinty blue eyes, not surprised to see her, but not welcoming her either. Well, that suited Morgan, she wasn’t glad to be here either!
‘Miss McKay,’ the other woman greeted regally.
‘Mrs Hammond,’ Morgan returned as frostily.
‘You parents are well?’
Morgan’s eyes widened. What was wrong with this family? This woman’s son and daughter-in-law had been tragically killed and she was asking innocuous questions about Morgan’s family! These people were emotionless. She need look no farther than Rita Hammond for her son’s lack of emotion; these people obviously didn’t know the meaning of the word love.
‘Could I please go to my room?’ she asked jerkily. ‘I’m feeling—tired, after the journey.’
Rita Hammond instantly rang for Symonds, instructing him to take Morgan up to the ‘lemon’ room.
‘We’ll talk later,’ Alex told her softly as she walked past him to follow Symonds upstairs.
She turned to smile at him, beginning to feel as if he was the only stability in a suddenly shaky world. ‘You look tired,’ she told him huskily. ‘Why don’t you rest too?’
Grey eyes widened—and then narrowed, almost as if he suspected her motives. ‘Not yet,’ he answered abruptly. ‘I have things to do.’
‘But soon, hmm?’ she prompted.
‘Perhaps,’ he nodded distantly. ‘Go with Symonds.’
She felt suitably dismissed, regretting the politeness of her concern. This man obviously didn’t need anyone’s sympathy for anything!
Morgan sat silently at Alex’s side as they drove to the hospital to pick up Courtney, so nervous her palms felt damp. It was ridiculous to feel so nervous about seeing a baby for the first time, but she couldn’t help it. Babies were something she had no experience of, especially ones as young as Courtney. She didn’t even know how to hold him—something Rita Hammond had taken great pains to point out to her.
Alex had obviously spoken to his mother by the time Morgan joined them for dinner the previous evening, for Rita Hammond was at her most haughty as she pointed out all the reasons Morgan wasn’t equipped to take care of a baby. When Morgan had remained blandly adamant the older woman had resorted to insults. Even her son’s curtly spoken words hadn’t deterred her, until finally Alex suggested his mother retire to her room, where he accompanied her, returning only after his mother had fallen into a sedated sleep, apologising tersely for her rudeness, but making no excuses for it.
Morgan had slept fitfully, her body completely out of English time, and rose early, only to find Alex was up before her, having already breakfasted and doing some work in his study. Morgan had only just managed to contain her anxiety to leave and collect Courtney, waiting impatiently until Alex suggested it was time to go.
And now they were almost there. She was going to see Glenna’s son at last!
He was beautiful! There was no other way to describe the tiny peaches and cream bundle wrapped in the white blanket. Tears filled her eyes as the nurse wheeled him out to them in his tiny crib, sleeping peacefully after his mid-morning feed.
‘He’s beautiful,’ she breathed softly, her eyes wide with wonder ‘Alex …!’ She looked at him glowingly.
His expression softened. ‘Why don’t you dress him while I have a word with the doctor?’
She swallowed hard. She thought herself a pretty gutsy lady, but this tiny baby terrified her. ‘I’ll try.’ She moistened her lips nervously, taking the box of expensive baby clothes that were part of a delivery made to the house early this morning. It seemed that the Hammond money could even get those sort of things delivered.
The nurse showed her into a private room, and between the two of them—with a lot of help from the nurse!—they managed to dress Courtney in the all-in-one blue suit, even though it still managed to swamp him despite being tiny. He was so incredibly like Glenna, with fiery-red hair and deep blue eyes, that Morgan felt fresh tears well up in her eyes.
‘Go ahead and cry,’ the nurse encouraged gently. ‘It’s always like this when a mother gets to take a premature baby home.’
Morgan blinked up at the young girl. ‘Oh, but—–’
‘He’s so much like you,’ the nurse cooed at him gently. ‘And I think he has your husband’s jaw even now. He’s going to be a strong-minded little boy.’
Morgan smiled at this young girl’s misconception. Somehow the other girl had the impression that she and Alex were Courtney’s parents. How angry he would be if he knew!
‘I’ve been on holiday for a couple of weeks,’ the girl unwittingly explained her mistake, ‘so I missed Courtney’s arrival into the world, but I can see he’s done very well for a premature baby.’ She helped Morgan put on the little woollen cap over Courtney’s red curls. ‘He has your colouring, you know,’ she smiled.
‘Probably a temper to go with it,’ Morgan joined in the laughter, feeling a sense of elation at being in at the start of Courtney’s life, seeing no reason to correct the young nurse’s impression of her being his mother, not wanting the complications and sympathy such an explanation would evoke.
‘Here’s your husband now.’ The girl moved to the door, smiling shyly up at Alex as he stood in the doorway.
Morgan looked at him, Courtney held firmly in her arms, wondering what his reaction was going to be to being thought her husband. The opinion he had of her morals, he would probably heatedly deny such a relationship.
‘Ready, darling?’ he asked huskily.
She nodded slowly, too stunned to answer him with words, and followed him out into the corridor.
‘Good luck!’ the young nurse beamed at them.
Alex gave her an abrupt nod, including a silver-haired woman in a blue uniform in that departing nod as they passed the office. ‘Thank you—for everything,’ he murmured softly to the woman.
Morgan allowed Alex to help her into the back of the dark Mercedes, still holding Courtney firmly in her arms, looking down in awe at his sleeping face. She looked up at Alex as he settled her more comfortably. ‘Why—–’
‘Wait until we’re on our way,’ he rasped softly, closing the door with a soft click so that he didn’t disturb the baby nestling against her.
Morgan had never experienced anything like the maternal love that flowed out of her for Courtney. It was a curiously choking feeling to know that he was totally dependent on her—on her and Alex. Alex had already made it clear that he intended taking a very strong part in Courtney’s life, and she already knew him well enough to know he meant every word.
He spoke suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. ‘As yet the media aren’t aware of Courtney’s existence,’ he told her abruptly. ‘I intend keeping it that way for as long as possible. That’s why the deception at the hospital.’
‘Deception?’ she frowned.
‘Courtney was registered as our child.’
‘Ours?’ she gasped.
He nodded. ‘That’s right.’
‘You have a hell of a nerve—–’
‘Ssh, you’ll wake the baby,’ he mocked her anger. ‘And I’m sure you have no idea what to do if that happens.’ He eyed her mockingly in the driving mirror. ‘No comeback?’
‘None,’ she shrugged. ‘But I bet you don’t know either,’ she said with satisfaction.
‘Wrong,’ he returned smugly.
Her eyes widened. ‘Wrong?’
He nodded. ‘I have it all written down. Compliments of the Ward Sister.’
‘That’s cheating!’
‘Common sense,’ he corrected. ‘I even have a bottle in case he wants feeding.’
‘Too clever by half,’ she mumbled, feeling too elated from holding Courtney in her arms to feel any real anger with Alex. Holding the tiny baby gave her a sense of well-being, as if she held a tiny part of Glenna to her.
Glenna would have loved Courtney, she had been looking forward to his birth so much. No wonder she had clung to life long enough to give birth to him. If only her strange decision to make Alex Hammond and herself Courtney’s guardians could be explained that easily!
Although Alex seemed more approachable today, less inclined to be the austere stranger she was used to. Perhaps Courtney’s innocence had got to him too. Although she wouldn’t count on it! No doubt he would revert to type soon enough.
‘Damn, damn, damn!’ he muttered as they entered the long driveway to the house, and slowed the car down.
‘What is it?’ Morgan sat forward concernedly, Courtney still—thank goodness!—fast asleep in her arms.
‘I hope you feel up to facing the press again,’ he ground out. ‘Why the hell didn’t my mother ring the police and have them thrown off my land!’ he bit out grimly as he halted the car and was instantly surrounded by obvious members of the press, tape-recorders and cameras at the ready. ‘There’s going to be no keeping Courtney’s existence a secret now,’ he turned to mutter. ‘Just stay at my side, Morgan, and don’t say a word!’
What did he take her for! He treated her as if she was some sort of brainless idiot, not a woman of twenty-six. Who did—–
‘And calm down,’ he taunted at the flash in her green eyes. ‘You don’t want them to think you hate me, do you?’ he mocked before swinging out of the car to walk round and open the door for her, ignoring the questions being thrown at him as if he didn’t hear them.
‘Is this your nephew, Mr Hammond?’ The jostling became more intense as Morgan stepped out of the car with Courtney in her arms.
‘The son of Glenna McKay and your brother Mark?’ they persisted as Alex guided her towards the house.
‘Is this Morgan McKay, sir?’ another tried politeness.
‘Of course it is,’ another man said eagerly. ‘Don’t you watch her in Power Trap?’ His tone implied appreciation of the character she played. ‘It’s been rumoured that you and Miss McKay are the baby’s guardians,’ the man followed them as they walked up the steps to the house. ‘Do you have any comment to make about that, Mr Hammond?’
Again Alex ignored the question, although Morgan could see by the tightening of his mouth that he was angry such information had become public knowledge.
‘Does this mean that, in the best tradition of romances, the two of you will be marrying?’ the man persisted.
Morgan knew she had blanched, and she could see that Alex had stiffened at such a suggestion. She and Alex marry? Never!
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