the moat that divided the big cats from the spectators.
After the giant feline had finished drinking and had flopped down on a sunny rock, Connor and Victoria meandered farther along the path, Connor pushing the baby’s loaded buggy, to where two elephants picked at a hay net with their trunks.
Connor glanced over at Victoria. Since they’d gotten to the zoo she’d attracted a fair amount of second looks. With her hair as sleek and shiny in the sunlight as polished mahogany and her hazel eyes alight with excitement, she looked happier than he’d ever seen her.
And, dammit, she was downright gorgeous.
To get his attention off the way her white denim skirt clung to her posterior, Connor swept Dylan out of his pushchair and held him high.
“See the elephants, Dylan?” Victoria pointed and her buttoned yellow cardigan pulled taut across her breasts.
Connor stifled a groan and his hands involuntarily tightened on the baby, who muttered a protest and wriggled in Connor’s arms.
“Sorry, mate.”
But Dylan had already stilled at the sight of the huge pachyderms as the nearest elephant flapped its ears. A chortle escaped—the sound of baby delight.
Connor laughed aloud and his eyes caught Victoria’s over Dylan’s head. For a second they shared a pure joy. Then Dylan began to bump up and down in Connor’s arms in excitement.
“Whoa, that’s an elephant, Dyl. He’s too big to pick a fight with.”
“Size doesn’t matter,” said Victoria.
Connor shot her a glance. Nope, she wouldn’t hold back against a bigger opponent.
High color flagged her cheeks. “Sorry, that came out wrong. What I meant to say was that Dylan should never let himself be intimidated.”
His mouth twitching, Connor cocked his head to one side and considered her. “So you’re conceding size does count?”
She gave him a quick up-down look and Connor waited for the acid comeback. Instead he encountered eyes filled with flustered nervousness.
He’d unsettled her. Score to him.
Connor grinned inwardly.
She blinked rapidly. “I’m just saying the giant doesn’t always win—remember David and Goliath.”
He swept his gaze slowly over her. “You don’t look like any David I’ve ever met.”
She made a sound of mock disgust. Connor threw back his head and laughed, and a moment later, to his astonishment, Victoria joined in.
He held out a hand to her. “Let’s go see the otters.”
To his surprise she reached for his hand, her fingers linking through his, the pushchair trailing in her other hand. Heat bolted through him and all laughter vanished as he looked at her—really looked at her—with a shaken sense of never having seen her before.
Then Dylan butted him, claiming his attention, and Connor came back to reality with a thump.
Later Victoria helped Connor lay a rug down on the freshly mown grass in front of an empty bandstand near a lake with ducks and swans. Connor rolled on his back, pulling Dylan onto his chest while Victoria knelt beside him and reached for the picnic basket they’d brought along.
It was all so domestic.
And most amazing of all, she and Connor hadn’t argued once.
He was holding Dylan above him on outstretched arms, making airplane noises. Laughter lines crinkled his cheeks. God, he was gorgeous.
An unwanted echo of that moment when their eyes had locked—of the scintillating awareness that had sizzled earlier—sent a frisson through her.
No.
She was not falling into that trap. Connor was her coguardian, not a prospective date. She daren’t start finding him attractive.
Looking away, she rummaged into the basket and pulled out a container of sandwiches that Moni had prepared.
The thud on her back took her breath away. Her eyes shot open in time to see a football rolling along the blanket and a pair of sneakers following in swift pursuit. Boyish hands scooped the ball up.
“Jordan, apologize at once!”
“Sorry.” A sheepish grin appeared from beneath a baseball cap. “Won’t do it again.” A singsong note of overuse underlay the words.
Her breath back, Victoria suppressed the urge to call him a name—or worse, grin at him and condone the carelessness. “Perhaps kick the ball the other way.”
Connor sat up beside her, perching Dylan on his knee, and gave the boy a level stare.
“No, I’ve already told Jordan that he’s not to lose a fifty-dollar ball in the tiger’s cage.” A harried-looking woman with red hair standing up in spikes had appeared. “You have to be more careful, boy.”
But Jordan was already gone, zigzagging over the lawn, dribbling the ball ahead of him.
“Kids.” The woman rolled her eyes. Then she added, “At least yours is still harmless. Enjoy him while you can. It