else’s private life yet avidly curious to find out more about Kane. Women friends? He had women friends? Of course he had, she thought, wildly trying to imagine what this long line of inappropriate women friends was like. He always seemed so controlled that the idea of him flinging himself passionately at a woman, growing weak at the knees whenever she came into the room, was beyond the powers of even her imagination.
Fortunately, the temptation to elicit more information on this suddenly raunchy side of Kane Lindley was abruptly halted by Mrs Porter pushing open the door to the sitting room and then stepping aside so that Shannon could enter.
‘I’ll be off now, Mr Lindley, if that’s all right with you. The food will just need heating up, but the table’s all set.’
‘Heating up?’
‘I can help, Dad.’ There was a childish eagerness to Eleanor’s voice that made Shannon ache.
‘Eleanor, this is Shannon, my new secretary. You’re going to be seeing a bit of her when I’m not around.’
‘Hello.’ She smiled briefly, then turned to her father with a pleading face. ‘But, really, Dad, I can help. I know what to do. Honestly.’
‘Eleanor, darling, you’re far too young to be doing anything in the kitchen. Most domestic accidents originate in the kitchen, did you know that? There are knives, fire, pans of boiling water—’
‘She can do a bit, Mr Lindley,’ Shannon interrupted, growing impatient with his listing of danger points which made the average kitchen sound like a death trap. ‘When I was Eleanor’s age, I was already doing a few basic things.’ She sneaked a glance at Eleanor who was gaping at her with shy gratitude. ‘You just have to make sure that there’s supervision and—’
‘You may have been preparing three-course meals at the age of eight, but Eleanor didn’t have your sturdy upbringing.’ He turned to his daughter. ‘Shannon comes from a family of seven children.’
‘Seven? Wow!’ The revelation had turned her eyes into saucers. ‘How lucky! I wish…’ Her voice trailed off and her eyes flitted across to her father.
‘I’ll make sure I supervise her, Mr Lindley,’ Shannon said hurriedly, before the telling sentence could be completed. ‘I mean, Eleanor, don’t you do home economics at school? A bit of baking and stuff?’
‘Not really,’ Eleanor admitted, frowning.
‘There, you see! Even the school realises the limits of letting children loose with dangerous objects.’ His eyebrows rose with the satisfaction of someone who has proved a point, and Shannon flushed hotly.
‘Actually, Mr Lindley—’
‘Kane. It’s ridiculous for us to be on such formal terms. And I can see from the indignant expression on your face that I’m about to be subjected to a lecture on the importance of teaching young children how to play with fire.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of lecturing you on anything of the sort,’ Shannon informed him in a huffy voice, ‘but what I’m talking about here is a wooden spoon, a bowl and a bit of stirring perhaps. How many young children do you personally know who have fallen victim to a sharp cut from a wooden spoon? And how many serious domestic accidents have been caused from a bit of stirring?’
‘We do woodwork at school,’ Eleanor interrupted helpfully. ‘Don’t we, Dad? Do you remember that box I made for you a few months ago? The one with the lid that could open and close?’
‘Yes, of course I do.’ But Shannon could tell from the vague expression on his face that the last thing currently stored in his memory bank was a box with a lid that could open and close.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
