Sutherland’s Pride Read Free

Flynn’s office, with Johnny on my lap, without Flynn suspecting anything, you owe me lunch.”
    “Pride, I hate to mention this, but Johnny doesn’t look anything like me. He looks more like you, especially since you’ve lightened your hair.”
    “He looks a lot like Flynn, actually,” Pride said. “Come on, Gloria. Where are your sporting instincts?”
    Gloria regarded Johnny a moment. “Do you honestly believe Flynn is going to think Johnny is my son?”
    “Yes.” But inside, Pride prayed he saw the truth.
    Gloria lifted her brows. “All right. You’re on. You did say Flynn has dark blond hair, didn’t you?”
    “And brown eyes,” Pride supplied. “If Johnny’s eyes were green, I’d start totaling up the cost of our lunch.”
    “I can’t believe you’re going to do this.”
    “I’m just giving Flynn the opportunity to be his usual single-minded self. If he brings the matter up, then I’ll say something.”
    Gloria nodded. “If he’s anything like Johnny, I suppose I can see your point.”
    “Johnny takes after Flynn in more than looks,” Pride agreed. “Come on. We’re a few minutes late.”
    She glanced down at herself, thankful she wore her navy linen suit. Cool and business-like, that was the ticket. Too bad she hadn’t twisted her hair up in a tight little bun.
    Pride, cradling Johnny, shoved open the glass door which bore the legend: Flynn Sutherland, Attorney at Law. Inside, an efficient-looking woman with short brown hair looked up from the brief she was typing and smiled. When she saw the four children, her smile broadened.
    “I’m Pride Donovan.” Pride consulted a notebook she produced from her purse. “I have an appointment with the attorney at eleven o’clock.”
    “Yes, Miss Donovan. He’s expecting you.” She punched her intercom and announced Pride. “What beautiful children.”
    Gloria thanked her as the door to the inner office opened and Flynn Sutherland stepped out.
    Pride sucked in air and clutched her son, thankful she had a soft, sweet-smelling warm child to hold while she faced Flynn for the first time in three years. How could Flynn stand there and not realize Johnny was his own son?
    “Hello, Pride,” Flynn said. “Come on in.”
    He could because when Flynn had an idea in his head, no matter how mistaken, he ignored all clues to the contrary.
    Pride detected Gloria’s dawning astonishment and had to bite back a wry smile that hid her own disappointment.
    Flynn looked as magnificent as ever. The sight of his tall, broad-shouldered body in the dark-gray business suit still had the power to accelerate her heart and make her shiver with longing. His red tie and white shirt accentuated his tanned skin and sun-bleached hair, hair that had originally been exactly the color of Johnny’s.
    His straight, dark brows had drawn together as he studied her, and his brown eyes held a thoughtful look. Pride remembered the merry, teasing expression those dark eyes had once held and squashed another shiver of longing.
    Flynn appeared to note the fact that Pride had brought friends. He smiled at Eric, who approached in the fearless manner of a four-year-old boy who had never known anything but love.
    “Are all of you with Pride?” Flynn watched Eric, still smiling. “Ms. Ross, will you please send out for refreshments? These children look thirsty.”
    “I’m Eric,” Eric announced. “This is my Aunt Pride, and my mother, and this is my sister, Tracy. That’s Johnny, and that’s Sylvia.”
    Pride smiled her approval. “That’s very good, Eric. Now tell the nice man your last name.”
    That would get Flynn, Pride decided gleefully. Being described as a nice man ought to cut one of Houston’s most eligible bachelors down to a proper size.
    “Boudreaux,” Eric supplied.
    Flynn, who had always seemed singularly oblivious to his eligibility, knelt to shake Eric’s hand gravely, then he stood and smiled at Gloria.
    “You’re Pride’s cousin,” he said. “I’m