voice…
Too late,
The dog flung himself at Lissa, paws flattened against her shoulders. A long pink tongue slopped across her face.
They went down in a heap, woman and dog, and Nick cursed and started the seemingly endless procedure that would lead to his divesting himself of the crutch, leaning it against the wall at an angle where he’d be able to reach it after he got them apart, and how in hell was he doing to do that when squatting or bending was damn near out of the ques—
“Oh, you beautiful baby,” Lissa Wilde said.
Nick blinked.
Brutus’s tail was wagging like a metronome gone insane.
Nick looked at his traitorous dog and the woman who wanted him to believe that she was a chef. The dog was lying on top of her; her arms were wound around his neck.
Nick felt every muscle in his body turn hard.
And decided he had to be crazy, because surely he was the first man on earth to envy a dog.
CHAPTER FOUR
H e had definitely been too long without a woman.
There was absolutely no other way to explain it.
He was standing in a cold, drafty hallway, watching his dog rolling around on the floor with a woman who had quickly become a pain in the ass, and he was envious of the dog.
He was crazy. Without question, Nick decided, and stood as straight as that goddamn crutch would allow.
“Brutus,” he said sharply. “Come here!”
The dog looked up, flashed a doggy grin and went back to nuzzling the woman stretched out under him.
“Brutus! I said come! Dammit, dog—”
“Woof!”
Nick felt his jaw tighten. The Newf’s tail was wagging even harder, fast enough for imminent takeoff. The woman was laughing and rubbing his head. Encouraging him. Urging him on. Making it clear that not even a dog had to show him respect.
Nick could all but feel his temperature rising. His blood boiling. His gut twisting, or whatever the hell happened when a man was fast losing what little remained of his composure.
Dammit, Lissa Wilde had been nothing but trouble from the get-go. Landing a job under false pretenses, because no matter what she said, he didn’t for a minute believe that she was a cook. Wasting his time letting him fly her here.
He was dealing with a bunch of wranglers who thought that saying things like Dude, I could eat an elephant was simply a new way to start a meal.
Now, he had to deal with this.
His dog, a dog that—unfortunately—wouldn’t obey any human being in the world except him, was refusing to respond to the simplest command.
Impossible, Nick decided, and narrowed his eyes.
“Let go of my dog.”
Ah, man, what a stupid thing to say! The dog had the woman pinned down and he was telling her to let go of the dog?
Nick tried again.
“The dog,” he said coldly, “is not a pet.”
Jesus. This was going from bad to worse. The dog is not a pet? Had he really said that? Well, hell. He had to say something, didn’t he? Yeah. He damn well did.
He couldn’t just watch his dog make an ass of himself…
He couldn’t just stand here wishing he could change places with the dog.
Try again, Gentry .
“He doesn’t like to be petted.”
Hell! He’d gone beyond stupid. The woman thought so, too. She gave a snort of laughter. Brutus, who liked laughter, woof-woofed in response. The woman looked at Nick through a tangle of her silky blond hair and the Newf’s soft black fur.
“Could have fooled me,” she said.
“He’s a—a—” A what? “He’s a trained guard dog. He has a job to do. And you’re diverting him.”
Lissa Wilde snorted again. “Do you have a job to do, sweetie?” she crooned.
Brutus moaned with pleasure. The Wilde babe clasped the dog’s ears and planted a kiss on his muzzle. The dog buried his face in the curve of her shoulder and moaned again.
Nick was painfully close to making that same sound.
“Brutus,” he said sharply, “dammit, dog, get off!”
“Brutus,” the woman crooned, “you’re a beautiful boy and it’s been lovely meeting you, but now you
Too late,
The dog flung himself at Lissa, paws flattened against her shoulders. A long pink tongue slopped across her face.
They went down in a heap, woman and dog, and Nick cursed and started the seemingly endless procedure that would lead to his divesting himself of the crutch, leaning it against the wall at an angle where he’d be able to reach it after he got them apart, and how in hell was he doing to do that when squatting or bending was damn near out of the ques—
“Oh, you beautiful baby,” Lissa Wilde said.
Nick blinked.
Brutus’s tail was wagging like a metronome gone insane.
Nick looked at his traitorous dog and the woman who wanted him to believe that she was a chef. The dog was lying on top of her; her arms were wound around his neck.
Nick felt every muscle in his body turn hard.
And decided he had to be crazy, because surely he was the first man on earth to envy a dog.
CHAPTER FOUR
H e had definitely been too long without a woman.
There was absolutely no other way to explain it.
He was standing in a cold, drafty hallway, watching his dog rolling around on the floor with a woman who had quickly become a pain in the ass, and he was envious of the dog.
He was crazy. Without question, Nick decided, and stood as straight as that goddamn crutch would allow.
“Brutus,” he said sharply. “Come here!”
The dog looked up, flashed a doggy grin and went back to nuzzling the woman stretched out under him.
“Brutus! I said come! Dammit, dog—”
“Woof!”
Nick felt his jaw tighten. The Newf’s tail was wagging even harder, fast enough for imminent takeoff. The woman was laughing and rubbing his head. Encouraging him. Urging him on. Making it clear that not even a dog had to show him respect.
Nick could all but feel his temperature rising. His blood boiling. His gut twisting, or whatever the hell happened when a man was fast losing what little remained of his composure.
Dammit, Lissa Wilde had been nothing but trouble from the get-go. Landing a job under false pretenses, because no matter what she said, he didn’t for a minute believe that she was a cook. Wasting his time letting him fly her here.
He was dealing with a bunch of wranglers who thought that saying things like Dude, I could eat an elephant was simply a new way to start a meal.
Now, he had to deal with this.
His dog, a dog that—unfortunately—wouldn’t obey any human being in the world except him, was refusing to respond to the simplest command.
Impossible, Nick decided, and narrowed his eyes.
“Let go of my dog.”
Ah, man, what a stupid thing to say! The dog had the woman pinned down and he was telling her to let go of the dog?
Nick tried again.
“The dog,” he said coldly, “is not a pet.”
Jesus. This was going from bad to worse. The dog is not a pet? Had he really said that? Well, hell. He had to say something, didn’t he? Yeah. He damn well did.
He couldn’t just watch his dog make an ass of himself…
He couldn’t just stand here wishing he could change places with the dog.
Try again, Gentry .
“He doesn’t like to be petted.”
Hell! He’d gone beyond stupid. The woman thought so, too. She gave a snort of laughter. Brutus, who liked laughter, woof-woofed in response. The woman looked at Nick through a tangle of her silky blond hair and the Newf’s soft black fur.
“Could have fooled me,” she said.
“He’s a—a—” A what? “He’s a trained guard dog. He has a job to do. And you’re diverting him.”
Lissa Wilde snorted again. “Do you have a job to do, sweetie?” she crooned.
Brutus moaned with pleasure. The Wilde babe clasped the dog’s ears and planted a kiss on his muzzle. The dog buried his face in the curve of her shoulder and moaned again.
Nick was painfully close to making that same sound.
“Brutus,” he said sharply, “dammit, dog, get off!”
“Brutus,” the woman crooned, “you’re a beautiful boy and it’s been lovely meeting you, but now you
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