Until He Met Meg by Sami Lee Page A

usual neat style. A thick strand of damp hair fell forward across his forehead, half concealing the light beading of sweat on his brow. The T-shirt he wore outlined an impressive breadth of muscle his work attire strongly hinted at but stopped short of revealing. The shorts displayed long, powerful legs lightly dusted with dark brown hair.
    The effect of his presence was distinctly unbalancing.
    ‘Cereal.’ Phillipa answered her father’s question, saving Meg the difficulty of speech for a few moments. ‘Meg bought it. It’s yummy. Do you want some?’
    Bryce leaned over the coffee table and peered sceptically into the bowls. ‘I don’t think so.’ He speared Meg with a glance that stilled her breath. ‘It doesn’t look like something on Mrs Dunkirk’s shopping list.’
    ‘Huh-uh,’ Phillipa admitted with no shortage of glee, before slurping milk from her spoon. ‘Do you know Meg eats whatever she wants on Saturdays? Her whole family does it. And maybe other families, too. But we don’t. Can we do it today, Daddy?’
    It was the most animated and cheerful Meg had seen the little girl, and she sent Bryce a look, hoping he would understand the plea in her eyes. Please don’t ruin this for me. It’s the first glimmer of approval I’ve gotten from her.
    Their eyes connected, held, for a long moment. Meg’s breath caught again. She wished he would sit down so he was on her level, not towering with such majesty above her. It made him seem so imposing, larger than life.
    At last he turned his attention back to Phillipa. ‘Why not? You two seem to have gotten such a good start.’
    Some of the tension seeped out of Meg at Bryce’s words. It seemed he had received her message loud and clear, and was willing to break the usual rules to make his little girl happy. Even though the long list of treats Phillipa immediately started to rattle off as her intended menu for the day would doubtless give her a tummy ache.
    ‘Hold on peanut.’ Bryce laughed. ‘You might want to save some of those items for next Saturday.’
    ‘Really Daddy? Can we do it every week?’
    Bryce sat on the floor near Meg, reaching for the box of cereal. He took out a handful of the sugary loops, popping them into his mouth. He tilted his head at Meg, a half smile on his lips. ‘These aren’t half bad,’ he told her, his eyes remaining on her face while he replied to Phillipa’s question. ‘As long as you don’t make yourself sick, I don’t see why not, honey.’
    Meg’s spoon stopped halfway to her mouth, milk dripping from its sides into the bowl. Her mouth hung open and if she hadn’t been rendered mute from the moment she had laid eyes on Bryce she might have whimpered.
    The honey hadn’t been meant for her, she knew that. But the way he had kept his eyes on her as he’d murmured it made her heart twist as though it had been. Adding to the impact of the endearment was the slight brush of Bryce’s knee against hers beneath the low table where he had tried his best to fit his long legs. His eyes were like pools of warm tiramisu she would love to dive right into, and Meg had a frightening realisation.
    Her boss was hot. Not merely handsome, but supernova hot, and much too distracting for her peace of mind.
    ‘I bet Mummy won’t let me do it.’
    Phillipa’s voice seemed to shake them both out of a trance. The word Mummy dumped a bucket of iced water on Meg’s burning ardour. It was the first mention she had heard her charge make of her mother, Bryce’s ex-wife. Bryce had never spoken of her.
    The smile left Bryce’s face as he turned back to his daughter. He didn’t ask Phillipa why she had come to such a conclusion, which had her looking crestfallen. ‘No, I doubt she will Phillipa.’
    Speaking for the first time since Bryce had entered the room, Meg had to clear her throat to get the one word out. ‘Why?’
    ‘Mummy says sugar is the enemy of a woman’s hips,’ Phillipa explained. ‘She also says that about something