Back in the Lion's Den Read Online Free PDF Page B

close, and caught his deep voice, low in her ear, as he told her, ‘Don’t worry. You won’t have to. We have enough rooms in Provence for the family not to have to share with the guests.’
    Those cool words were at variance with the warmth of his breath against her hair—an unintentional caress that sent tingles along her very nerve-endings. Or was it so unintentional? she wondered, her pulse quickening ridiculously. Because she didn’t think he’d miss a single trick to try and unsettle her.
    Impelled by good manners to introduce him to Jodie, shetried to shake off the devastating effects of Conan’s nearness. But before she could find her voice Jodie was shooting out a hand for him to take.
    ‘I’m Jodie Fisher,’ she pre-empted, smiling broadly at the dynamic-looking man whose bronzed chest oozed virility through a fine and fitted short-sleeved cream shirt, and whose long legs were encased in dark tailored trousers. Her cheeks were unusually flushed. Even being happily married and pregnant didn’t stop a woman trying to get herself noticed by him, Sienna thought despairingly.
    ‘The pleasure’s all mine, Jodie.’ His manner was charm personified. Never once in all the time she had known him had he smiled at
her
like that—with such sincere warmth—Sienna realised, annoyed with herself for even thinking it, and telling herself she hardly cared.
    ‘Well, I’ll be getting back to my hovel …’ Still beaming, Jodie gestured towards the immaculately painted house next door for Conan’s benefit. It made Sienna’s look rather tired and dull in comparison. ‘Daisy’s in the garden with Shadow,’ she told Sienna. ‘Have a lovely time, won’t you?’ From the look she angled towards Conan as she was going out of the gate it was obvious what she meant.
    ‘You’d better come in.’ Alone with him, Sienna was determined not to let it bother her. ‘We’re nearly ready.’
    Daisy was standing mixing play dough on a low table as they came out through the little galley kitchen, chattering happily to her pink hippopotamus, seated on a tiny chair, and the dog, which was stretched out with its head raised, listening interestedly to every word of the childish patter.
    ‘You’ve got no qualms about leaving a four-year-old with that animal?’ Conan’s disapproval was obvious.
    ‘No. Why should I have?’ Sienna shot back at him over her shoulder. ‘Shadow would protect her rather than cause her any harm. “That animal”—as you call him—is as gentle as a lamb!’
    Peeved by his attitude, which even now questioned hersuitability as a mother, she had to bite back the desire to tell him to mind his own business as she plastered on a smile and called out to Daisy, ‘Come here, poppet! There’s somebody I want you to meet.’
    Grabbing her hippopotamus, the little girl ran up to them.
    ‘Do you remember … Mr Ryder?’ Sienna queried after some hesitation. For some reason
Uncle Conan
didn’t spring easily to her lips—which was crazy, she realised, because that was who he was.
    The little girl gazed coyly up at him, her hazel eyes studying him with a seriousness way beyond her years. Eventually she asked, ‘Are you my daddy?’ and something squeezed painfully around Sienna’s heart.
    Daisy had never known Niall—not properly anyway. And she certainly couldn’t remember him. So wasn’t it an obvious mistake for her to imagine that Conan might be her father?
    Dropping to his haunches, Conan gazed—transfixed—at the little girl who was studying him so intently, and something ripped through him, taking his breath away.
    It was Niall at four years old! Niall with his shock of bright hair and his sturdy little body and his frowning bewilderment at the world as he’d looked to him—his older brother—for answers …
    The feeling in his chest was almost suffocating. Somehow, though, he recovered himself enough to respond to her question about being her father. ‘No, Daisy, I’m not,’ he