‘He might wake up if I don’t keep reading,’ Shanni said softly. ‘If I keep my reading going I’ll soothe him into sleeping for ever.’

Or who else might she soothe into sleep?

It was so…seductive.

Shanni had turned on the heater and the room was warm-almost over-warm. The huge breakfast had made Nick feel so sated he almost needed sleep again himself, even though it was only two hours since he’d woken. The child in his arms slept on and on, catching up on missed time.

Shanni’s voice was low and sweet and melodic-soothing him toward rest.

If Nick hadn’t been watching Len…

But he was. He was watching Len like a hawk. The gun was slowly slipping. It must be so heavy.

Please let those outside not use the loud hailer or try to contact him again, Nick thought, but if Shanni’s brother had twigged as to why she wanted the hay fever tablets then they wouldn’t be so stupid.

They weren’t.

Shanni read and Nick watched Len-and Nick watched Shanni. He watched the gentle rise and fall of her breast, and he listened to the soft lilting of her voice. If I was three years old this is where I’d like to go to kindergarten, he thought dazedly, and had to shake himself. No one had ever read him stories. Not ever!

For heaven’s sake, he was thirty-two years old. This was stupid. He was feeling like this just because it was a novelty. A situation like this…

A woman like Shanni…

He’d never met anyone like her.

And finally her voice fell away to nothing.

And she’d succeeded.

‘He’s asleep,’ she said softly. At the window, Len’s face had fallen forward so his chin was resting on his chest. His gun had fallen to one side in the chair and his hands were lifeless. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm.

‘Len?’ Shanni asked softly.

‘Leave him be for a bit,’ Nick said. ‘We’ve worked on this. Let’s not spoil it by hurrying.’

‘We’ve worked on this?’