She woke when her father made a sharp turn and eased to a stop in front of a guard house. He rolled down the window, and a blast of cold air alerted Hannah to the fact they'd arrived at their destination. She straightened and looked around. Although she'd never been on one before, she recognized immediately that they were entering a military compound. "Dad?" she quizzed. "Where are we?"
"Bangor," he announced a little too loudly. "We're meeting Riley Murdock."
In Chaplain Stewart's office Riley sat, ramrod straight, across the room from Hannah Raymond and her stern-faced father. Riley's gaze narrowed as he fired a look in her direction. Not once did she deign to glance his way. She sat, her back as rigid as his own, but although she held her head high, her gaze refused to meet his. Perhaps it was just as well.
First thing the previous morning, Riley had been called before his commanding officer. When he arrived, he'd discovered Chaplain Stewart and Lieutenant Commander Steven Kyle.
"Do you know a woman by the name of Hannah Raymond?" the chaplain had asked him.
Riley had reacted with surprise. For three months he'd been frantically searching for her, spending every available weekend combing the Seattle waterfront, asking if anyone had seen a woman of her description. He'd followed the leads, but each one had led to a frustrating dead end. He'd gone so far as to contact a detective agency, but they'd offered him little hope. All Riley knew about her was her first name and the fact she had shiny brown hair and dove-gray eyes. There simply hadn't been enough information, and the agency had been discouraging.
"I know her," Riley admitted.
"How well?"
Riley had stiffened. "Well enough."
"Then you may be interested to learn she's pregnant," Chaplain Stewart stated abruptly, looking at Riley as though he were the spawn of the devil.
Riley felt as if someone had knocked his feet out from under him, and then, when he was laid low, viciously kicked him.
"Pregnant," he repeated, stunned, as though he'd never heard the word before.
"She claims the child is yours," his CO explained. "She maintains it happened during Seafair, which means she'd be about three months along. Does that time frame gel with you?"
Fury and outrage twisted inside Riley until he couldn't speak. All he could manage was a sharp nod. He clenched his powerful fists at his sides until he was sure he'd cut off the blood supply to his fingers.
"At Seafair?" the commanding officer pressed.
Again Riley nodded. "That would be about right." The woman had put him through three months of living hell, and he wouldn't soon forget or forgive that. "When did she contact you?" he asked his CO.
It was Chaplain Stewart who answered. "She didn't."
"Then who did?" he demanded.
"George Raymond, Hannah's father. He's had an extensive investigation done on you, as well."
Great. Wonderful. Now Riley was going to be left to deal with an irate father. That was exactly what he needed to start his day off on the wrong foot.
"George and I attended seminary together," th6 chaplain had continued, and it was clear from the way he spoke that the two men had been good friends. "When Hannah confessed that the father of her unborn child was in the Navy, George contacted me, hoping I'd be able to help him locate you."
Riley couldn't believe this was happening. The desire to wring Hannah's scrawny neck increased by the minute.
Hannah was pregnant! If he had any luck, Riley swore, it was all bad. Okay, so he was being mildly unreasonable. But she was the one who'd come on to him. He'd assumed, at least in the beginning, that she must be using protection. If he'd believed otherwise he would have taken care of the matter himself. It wasn't until after he'd discovered she was a virgin that he had briefly wondered. And worried. He'd admit now that the deed was staring him in the face.
"What does she want?" Riley demanded. Support, medical bills, maybe even an allotment to cover her expenses while she was unable to work. Riley had no intention of sloughing off his duty. He was the one responsible and he'd own up to it.
Chaplain Stewart stood and walked across the room. He paused and then rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, as if he needed extra time to shepherd his thoughts.
"As I told you earlier, George Raymond is a minister. In his mind there's only one thing to be done."
"And that is?" Riley demanded, remembering he'd left his checkbook at his apartment.
"He wants you to marry his daughter."
"What?" Riley was so shocked he nearly laughed out loud. "Marry her? Hell, I don't even know her."
"You know her well enough," the chaplain reminded him, throwing Riley's own words back in his face. "Listen, son," he continued thoughtfully, "no one's going to force you to marry the girl."
"You're damn right about that," Riley returned heatedly, slightly amused that he'd gone from Satan's spawn to "son" in a matter of a few minutes.
"Hannah's not like other women."