His smile faded. ‘Presumably you’ll find the food eventually?’

She flushed and rummaged in one of the bags, pulling out a cool bag, bibs and several small pots. ‘Where’s your kitchen?’

He lifted an eyebrow. ‘You want a tour of my house?’

She bit her lip. ‘No, I do not want a tour of your house, but unless you want carrot purée on those pristine white sofas, Dr Westerling, I suggest we feed her in the kitchen.’

The baby gurgled happily and sucked her fists and Alex accepted the inevitable.

‘We feed her,’ he said through gritted teeth, ‘and then we talk. Leave those bags by the door. It will stop you having to carry them so far when you want to take them back to the car.’

‘I won’t be going back to the car, but I refuse to argue this with you in front of D-Daisy,’ she stammered, following him across the gleaming wooden floor towards the kitchen. ‘Babies are like barometers. She’s picking up the atmosphere.’

‘Then she’s a bright girl.’ Alex stalked into his state-of-the-art kitchen and waved an arm. ‘Help yourself. What do you need?’

‘Hot water and access to a microwave to heat her food?’

Alex extended a lean brown hand. ‘Give me the jar—I’ll do the heating.’

‘It isn’t a jar. I make all her food myself.’ The girl handed him a plastic pot and he scraped the mushy contents into a bowl and stuck it in the microwave with an expression of distaste.

‘That looks utterly revolting.’

‘It’s nutritious and she loves it.’

Alex didn’t argue. Instead he reached into a cupboard and pulled out a high chair, ignoring her look of amazement.

‘I have nieces and nephews,’ he said shortly, wondering why he was proffering an explanation, ‘but as you seem to think you know everything about me, you probably already know that.’

‘How old are they?’

‘That’s none of your business. I never discuss my family with strangers, and you,’ he said icily, ‘are most definitely a stranger.’

She flushed slightly and settled the baby on her lap.

He noticed that she was avoiding looking him in the eye and took that as another sign of her guilty conscience.

She had to be lying.

She had to be lying, otherwise…

Tensing his jaw, he removed the food from the microwave and put it on the table, but the girl’s eyes were fixed on Daisy as she gave her a bottle.

‘I have to give her some milk first or she’s just too hungry to concentrate on the food,’ she murmured, and Alex rolled his eyes.

‘Spare me the detail.’

‘You’re going to need the detail, Dr Westerling. I’m no longer able to take sole responsibility for your child. I need help.’

Still not looking at him, she smiled down at the child who sucked greedily at the bottle of milk.

The smile completely altered her appearance and Alex found his attention caught. She had delicate, almost elfin features, her dark eyes fringed with long, even darker lashes that made her cheeks seem even paler. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face and fastened in a ponytail and she didn’t appear to be wearing a scrap of make-up.