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‘Are you asking me to have dinner with you?’ she asked, startled by the notion.
‘That’s what you expected me to do, isn’t it?’ he asked drily. ‘When I discovered there was more than enough here for two…’
‘No, it’s not what I expected!’ she erupted, annoyed at the implication. ‘I just thought your appetite would match your size, that’s all. I certainly don’t need to resort to underhanded tactics to get dinner dates—’
‘Do I take it you’re refusing my kind invitation?’ he murmured, looking undismayed by her rejection and confirming her belief that he had been merely goading her.
In the brief silence in which she searched for a sufficiently crushing reply there came a sudden, high-pitched and very distinctive sound from the other side of the apartment. Hunter’s black head snapped around to focus on the noise and Anne tensed, coughing loudly and making a great show of looking at her watch.
‘Gosh, look at the time! Well, thanks for the phone; I really must rush—I’ve got my own dinner on…’ She started backing towards the door, still making distracting rumbling sounds in her throat. Hunter rotated slowly back to face her.
‘What was that?’
‘What?’
He tipped his head back and, as if on cue, the sound came again and this time no amount of coughing was going to disguise that it was coming from her flat on the other side of the wal
l.
‘Maybe I left my radio on,’ Anne improvised hopefully, and stitched on a brilliant smile just as the sound intensified into an angry wail. Oh, no, not now, Ivan. Please, of all times, not now…Anne began to pray silently as she progressed blindly in what she hoped was the right direction, trying to keep a nonchalant expression on her face.
‘That’s not music. Not even what you claim passes for music.’ Hunter prowled around the counter towards her, his black eyes brooding with a growing suspicion as she skittered backwards. ‘It sounds much more like a—’
‘Cat! Yes, you’re right, it’s probably a cat.’ She tried to force the words into his grim mouth. ‘There are quite a few strays yowling around the warehouse, I notice,’ she gabbled as she scrabbled behind her for the doorhandle, aware of the wail starting to subside into a series of hiccuping sobs that were all too human. ‘The men must feed them their lunch scraps. They can get up the fire-escape, you know—the cats, that is, not the men. I left the window open…Maybe one got in and got trapped. Oh, look, your pasta water’s boiling. You stay and cook your meal. I’ll just—’
Her words were cut off as thoroughly as her escape as Hunter’s big frame blocked the doorway.
‘If that’s a cat then I’m a monkey’s uncle,’ he grated, pushing past her and heading towards her unlocked door.
Ten seconds later he was looming accusingly over Anne as she scooped a red-cheeked Ivan up from the cot and cradled him protectively to her breast.
‘Yes, it’s a baby! And no, he’s not visiting. His name is Ivan Tremaine and he lives here with me. Stop glaring at us like that—you’re frightening him!’
This despite the fact that as soon as Ivan had spotted the loud stranger he had halted in mid-cry and was now squinting at this new visual toy with every appearance of glee, the tear-stains on his feverish cheeks rapidly drying.
Anne felt like bursting into tears herself as she faced Hunter’s searing disapproval, but she sensed it would gain her little sympathy. He had the fierce look of a man who wasn’t going to budge without some very good answers.
She’d better think of some—fast!
CHAPTER FOUR
‘ARE you telling me that you left a helpless baby alone in the flat?’ Hunter’s expression was one of grim disapproval.
Anne drew herself up defensively. So it was to be the easy questions first!
‘Only for a few minutes. He was asleep when I left and I was only a few metres away, for goodness’ sake! I heard him cry, didn’t I?’
‘Where did he come from?’
‘The stork brought him, where do you think he came from?’ she snapped, patting Ivan’s nappy, automatically checking it for dampness.
Hunter’s black brows descended even further over his hooded gaze as he observed the practised familiarity of her actions.
‘You mean he’s yours? You’re his mother?’ He sounded sharply incredulous and the next words were blurted out in an almost violent repudiation of the very concept. ‘How in God’s name did that happen?’
Anne hesitated on the brink of correcting his stupendous mistake. Then the memory of Katlin’s im- passioned pleas locked her hasty words in her throat.
She had faithfully promised her sister that she would look after Ivan until Katlin had finished her book or until the grant ran out, whichever was soonest. It could be as little as a few months or as long as a year. Another year of her life wasn’t so much to ask, not when it came with a glittering bribe—the opportunity for Anne to do exactly what she had planned to do with her freedom anyway: live and study at the most prestigious university campus in the country.
