MacLeod,
shake."
The dog put his paw out.
Laughing, Leilani took it.
"Nice to meet you."
"You see why I named him MacLeod."
She glanced at him in question.
"There can only be one. He's
too big to allow me to have another."
"Like the Highlander. Clever.
But how does an Irish wolfhound feel about having a Scottish name?"
"Yes, well, the poor chap
has a bit of an identity crisis."
MacLeod howled softly, as though
beleaguered.
She laughed and patted the dog's
head.
"MacLeod, get your
leash." He smiled at her. "Fancy going for a walk with us?"
"I'd love to."
"Will you be warm
enough?"
"You'll keep me warm."
His chest swelled with longing.
Unable to resist, he kissed her slowly.
They were both molten by the time
MacLeod returned with his leash. The dog nudged their legs, impatient to be
off.
Colin frowned down at him.
"You, my friend, have bad timing."
The dog huffed.
Leilani chuckled. "I've
never been chaperoned, much less by someone so woolly."
They started out, not talking
though the silence was comfortable and companionable. Colin wouldn't have
minded the silence at all—in fact, he liked it. A woman who could enjoy
silence was worth twice her weight in gold. He had a problem with not touching
her though.
He shot a look at MacLeod, who
trotted between them. The dog did act as a chaperon—too good a chaperon.
He'd have to have a word with the beast later.
As if reading his thoughts, the
dog looked up at him. The creature seemed to roll his eyes and then move aside.
Finally. Colin took Leilani's
hand firmly in his, happy when she smiled at him. He cleared his throat, trying
to keep from going completely sappy in her presence. "So, Leilani, do you
know where you are?"
"London." She looked
around. "I think."
"Specifically an area called
Holland Park. It's an old, affluent neighborhood."
"Hence the big Victorian
houses?" She pointed to one as they walked past.
"Yes, and an embassy or two.
Basically only the very rich or very stodgy lives here now. Like Kenneth
Branagh."
"Should I guess which
category he falls into?"
"Ken is a terribly dull
chap," he joked. "Please don't make assumptions about me."
"After you've already told
me you live in the family 'tomb?' Never." She gave him a sidelong glance.
"The tiny bit I saw of your tomb didn't seem funereal, by the way."
"Mel's doing. I take no
credit. The downstairs and my suites are in fairly good order, but the rest of
the house is still in shambles. I'll show you next time you visit."
"I'm invited back?"
"Definitely." He
squeezed her hand.
They turned the corner, and MacLeod
began to whine with longing.
Colin looked up, cursing under
his breath when he realized they'd turned onto Holland Park Avenue. He managed
to get a grip on the leash right before the dog lunged. "Oh no."
"What is it?" Leilani
asked.
"I didn't realize where we
are." He wrestled with MacLeod. "Heel."
The dog pulled him faster,
determined. He cursed the beast as he let go of Leilani's hand, not wanting to
drag her along.
"He seems eager," she
commented, trotting alongside them.
"He smells beer."
"Beer?" She laughed.
The sound brightened the world.
Caught up in it, he relaxed his grip on the leash.
MacLeod lunged forward, yanking
the leash out of Colin's hand, and took off running.
"Bloody mutt." He
watched the dog race down the street.
"Shouldn't we run after
him?"
"No." He took her hand
and walked at a normal pace. "I've never run in three-inch heels, but it
seems like they wouldn't be the most comfy running shoes."
"Will MacLeod be okay?"
"Yes. We're close, in any
case. It's just down the block."
"It?"
"The pub." He guided
her toward it. "You wouldn't be thirsty, would you?"
She smiled. "I'm parched."
Usually, if he were going to a
pub, he went to the Horniman at Hays, because it was close to his office.
But sometimes he met George here
at the Castle. It was local, and everyone knew everyone else, which could
actually be annoying at times. Like right then, when the
shake."
The dog put his paw out.
Laughing, Leilani took it.
"Nice to meet you."
"You see why I named him MacLeod."
She glanced at him in question.
"There can only be one. He's
too big to allow me to have another."
"Like the Highlander. Clever.
But how does an Irish wolfhound feel about having a Scottish name?"
"Yes, well, the poor chap
has a bit of an identity crisis."
MacLeod howled softly, as though
beleaguered.
She laughed and patted the dog's
head.
"MacLeod, get your
leash." He smiled at her. "Fancy going for a walk with us?"
"I'd love to."
"Will you be warm
enough?"
"You'll keep me warm."
His chest swelled with longing.
Unable to resist, he kissed her slowly.
They were both molten by the time
MacLeod returned with his leash. The dog nudged their legs, impatient to be
off.
Colin frowned down at him.
"You, my friend, have bad timing."
The dog huffed.
Leilani chuckled. "I've
never been chaperoned, much less by someone so woolly."
They started out, not talking
though the silence was comfortable and companionable. Colin wouldn't have
minded the silence at all—in fact, he liked it. A woman who could enjoy
silence was worth twice her weight in gold. He had a problem with not touching
her though.
He shot a look at MacLeod, who
trotted between them. The dog did act as a chaperon—too good a chaperon.
He'd have to have a word with the beast later.
As if reading his thoughts, the
dog looked up at him. The creature seemed to roll his eyes and then move aside.
Finally. Colin took Leilani's
hand firmly in his, happy when she smiled at him. He cleared his throat, trying
to keep from going completely sappy in her presence. "So, Leilani, do you
know where you are?"
"London." She looked
around. "I think."
"Specifically an area called
Holland Park. It's an old, affluent neighborhood."
"Hence the big Victorian
houses?" She pointed to one as they walked past.
"Yes, and an embassy or two.
Basically only the very rich or very stodgy lives here now. Like Kenneth
Branagh."
"Should I guess which
category he falls into?"
"Ken is a terribly dull
chap," he joked. "Please don't make assumptions about me."
"After you've already told
me you live in the family 'tomb?' Never." She gave him a sidelong glance.
"The tiny bit I saw of your tomb didn't seem funereal, by the way."
"Mel's doing. I take no
credit. The downstairs and my suites are in fairly good order, but the rest of
the house is still in shambles. I'll show you next time you visit."
"I'm invited back?"
"Definitely." He
squeezed her hand.
They turned the corner, and MacLeod
began to whine with longing.
Colin looked up, cursing under
his breath when he realized they'd turned onto Holland Park Avenue. He managed
to get a grip on the leash right before the dog lunged. "Oh no."
"What is it?" Leilani
asked.
"I didn't realize where we
are." He wrestled with MacLeod. "Heel."
The dog pulled him faster,
determined. He cursed the beast as he let go of Leilani's hand, not wanting to
drag her along.
"He seems eager," she
commented, trotting alongside them.
"He smells beer."
"Beer?" She laughed.
The sound brightened the world.
Caught up in it, he relaxed his grip on the leash.
MacLeod lunged forward, yanking
the leash out of Colin's hand, and took off running.
"Bloody mutt." He
watched the dog race down the street.
"Shouldn't we run after
him?"
"No." He took her hand
and walked at a normal pace. "I've never run in three-inch heels, but it
seems like they wouldn't be the most comfy running shoes."
"Will MacLeod be okay?"
"Yes. We're close, in any
case. It's just down the block."
"It?"
"The pub." He guided
her toward it. "You wouldn't be thirsty, would you?"
She smiled. "I'm parched."
Usually, if he were going to a
pub, he went to the Horniman at Hays, because it was close to his office.
But sometimes he met George here
at the Castle. It was local, and everyone knew everyone else, which could
actually be annoying at times. Like right then, when the
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