Nathan's Child by Anne McAllister

else’s,” Lacey rejoined practically. “Not unless someone comes back for him. Besides,” she added, apparently deciding that an outside dog was better than no dog at all, “he doesn’t have to come in. He can just come around.”
    Which was pretty much what he did. Zeno the dog seemed to have no more interest in settling in any one place than Zeno the wolf had. He moved from place to place, from house to house—life was a movable feast for Zeno—and pretty soon everyone on the island knew him, fed him and called him by the name Lacey had given him. Mostly he divided his time between their place and Hugh’s, because Hugh had a mostly border collie called Belle who had apparently caught Zeno’s eye.
    Tonight, though, Belle must have had other plans as Zeno was looking hopefully at Carin. She scratched his ears and rubbed under his chin. It was soothing, petting the dog. It calmed her, centered her, slowed her down.
    â€œThanks for coming,” she told him with a wry smile.
    Zeno grinned. His tail thumped on the porch. He looked toward the door. Carin knew what he wanted.
    â€œIt’s late,” she told him. “You must have eaten. Didn’t Hugh feed you? What about Lorenzo?”
    But Zeno cocked his head and whined a denial.
    Carin sighed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. Let me see what we’ve got.” Giving his ears one last scratch, she went inside to check the refrigerator. She found leftover peas and rice from dinner plus a bit of the fish Lacey had caught. Carin crumbled it into a bowl, carried it back through the living room and started to push open the screen door.
    â€œHere, Zee—”
    Nathan was on the porch.
    So much for calm and settled. Carin’s fingers automatically clenched the bowl in her hand. Instead of going out, she let the screen bang shut between them. “What are you doing here?”
    â€œWe need to talk.”
    â€œNo, we don’t.”
    â€œYes, we do. Invite me in or come out here.”
    Zeno, whining at the sight of the bowl, offered his opinion.
    Nathan reached for the door handle.
    Carin beat him to it. “Fine. We’ll talk out here.” She yanked the door open and stalked past him onto the porch. Zeno pushed between them, his eyes fixed on the bowl, his tail thumping madly.
    Nathan reached down and absently scratched his head. “Who’s this?”
    â€œA dog.”
    â€œNo? Really? I’d never have guessed.” Sarcasm dripped. “What’s his name?”
    Carin didn’t want to say, knowing full well what he’d think. But if she didn’t, Lacey undoubtedly would. “Zeno,” she said defiantly. “Lacey’s choice.”
    A corner of his mouth lifted. “Somehow I didn’t imagine it was yours.”
    â€œHe turned up about the same time your book did.” She put the bowl down so that Zeno would have to stay between them to eat. Then she straightened up again, wrapping her arms across her breasts as if they could protect her.
    â€œI was surprised Lacey had read my books.”
    Carin shrugged. “She was curious.”
    â€œAbout them or about me?”
    â€œAbout what you did. Your job.” She turned away from him and stared out into the darkness. Down the hill she could hear the faint sounds of steel drum music coming from the Grouper Bar and Café. The night breeze, whichnormally she looked forward to, seemed chilly now, and Carin rubbed her bare arms to ward off goose bumps.
    â€œShe seems interested,” Nathan said after a moment.
    â€œI guess.” She still didn’t look his way, but she didn’t need to in order to know he was there, right on the other side of Zeno. It was almost magnetic, the pull he had over her. She’d never felt that way about any other man. She didn’t want to feel that way about this one. Didn’t want to fall under his spell again.
    â€œWhat do you desperately