she decided, for Zara’s beautiful view of the lake.
Chapter 4
Leonie went for her usual early morning swim the next morning, thankful she had a large dog present to watch over her. In spite of Adam’s assurances the night before, she remained convinced somebody had been spying on her.
Butch sat on shore watching her. With him on guard, Leonie knew she would be alerted if his sharp senses detected someone, so she ought to feel safe. Somehow, she didn’t. The sensation that somebody still watched her kept her so distracted, she could hardly swim her usual distance.
While she swam, she peered in all directions, studying the tree-covered shoreline, early morning boaters, and even going so far as to study the sky for blimps, drones, and other silent aircrafts. Not even her own good sense served to convince her she wasn’t under surveillance, not when she kept having this primitive urge to whirl around and catch the peeping Tom in the act.
Naturally, no one appeared interested in her. Two big motorboats cruised by, towing water skiers. A bass boat hovered in a cove across the lake, with one man assiduously casting his fly toward the shore, but he was so far away, he couldn’t see her without binoculars. The shorelines continued to hide whatever secrets lurked among the thick trees, and Butch remained calm.
Leonie gave up and swam for shore. The only thing she was sure of this morning was that she was making a trip to the nearest department store after her rock-painting class was finished. Wearing Zara’s skimpy bikini was enough to give any woman a sensation of being watched.
“Come on, boy,” she told Butch with a confidence she was far from feeling. “We’re going to learn how to paint flowers. At least no one will be paying any attention to us at the crafts mall.”
She’d see to that. She’d wear her own jeans and a T-shirt to the class. After all, she didn’t want to get any paint on Zara’s beautiful clothing, she told herself virtuously. Her own clothes weren’t nearly as attention-getting, but who wanted to attract attention in a crafts class composed mostly of women?
Besides, after starting the morning by feeling like a monkey in a zoo, she didn’t want anyone looking at her the rest of the day. It was too bad that even Zara’s most casual clothing had been designed to magnetize male eyes.
Butch looked up at her and walked at her side. Leonie hoped he didn’t turn out to be a dog who couldn’t tolerate other dogs. She felt sure Adam was right. There were bound to be a few attack Yorkies or Chihauhuas in her class this morning.
What she didn’t expect was to find Adam in the class.
She signed in at the door of a large, dusty old brick building in mountain-surrounded downtown Hot Springs that housed a crafts mall; she paid her supplies fee to the teacher and looked around the huge, almost empty room. Fans whirled from the high ceiling and windows let in plenty of light. From the looks of the building, Leonie gathered it had once housed a school.
Odors of acrylic paints mixed with chalk dust. Leonie detected the chalk dust and felt right at home. The building smelled exactly the way a classroom should, in her opinion.
Beside her, Butch pressed against her leg and studied the situation. Sure enough, a tiny Yorkshire terrier with a pink bow discovered Butch and growled ferociously from an elderly woman’s lap, then let out a series of hoarse yaps.
“I’m so sorry,” the woman said. “Hush, Gretchen. The big dog isn’t bothering you.”
“A good watch dog never rests,” Leonie intoned, and stretched out a hand for Gretchen to sniff. “I’d better take Butch to the other side of the room or poor Gretchen won’t let you get a bit of painting done.”
Leonie drew Butch’s leash closer and looked for an empty table. The room was by no means crowded, but single women with dogs already took most of the tables meant for two people. The four large dogs present ignored Butch. Three small
Chapter 4
Leonie went for her usual early morning swim the next morning, thankful she had a large dog present to watch over her. In spite of Adam’s assurances the night before, she remained convinced somebody had been spying on her.
Butch sat on shore watching her. With him on guard, Leonie knew she would be alerted if his sharp senses detected someone, so she ought to feel safe. Somehow, she didn’t. The sensation that somebody still watched her kept her so distracted, she could hardly swim her usual distance.
While she swam, she peered in all directions, studying the tree-covered shoreline, early morning boaters, and even going so far as to study the sky for blimps, drones, and other silent aircrafts. Not even her own good sense served to convince her she wasn’t under surveillance, not when she kept having this primitive urge to whirl around and catch the peeping Tom in the act.
Naturally, no one appeared interested in her. Two big motorboats cruised by, towing water skiers. A bass boat hovered in a cove across the lake, with one man assiduously casting his fly toward the shore, but he was so far away, he couldn’t see her without binoculars. The shorelines continued to hide whatever secrets lurked among the thick trees, and Butch remained calm.
Leonie gave up and swam for shore. The only thing she was sure of this morning was that she was making a trip to the nearest department store after her rock-painting class was finished. Wearing Zara’s skimpy bikini was enough to give any woman a sensation of being watched.
“Come on, boy,” she told Butch with a confidence she was far from feeling. “We’re going to learn how to paint flowers. At least no one will be paying any attention to us at the crafts mall.”
She’d see to that. She’d wear her own jeans and a T-shirt to the class. After all, she didn’t want to get any paint on Zara’s beautiful clothing, she told herself virtuously. Her own clothes weren’t nearly as attention-getting, but who wanted to attract attention in a crafts class composed mostly of women?
Besides, after starting the morning by feeling like a monkey in a zoo, she didn’t want anyone looking at her the rest of the day. It was too bad that even Zara’s most casual clothing had been designed to magnetize male eyes.
Butch looked up at her and walked at her side. Leonie hoped he didn’t turn out to be a dog who couldn’t tolerate other dogs. She felt sure Adam was right. There were bound to be a few attack Yorkies or Chihauhuas in her class this morning.
What she didn’t expect was to find Adam in the class.
She signed in at the door of a large, dusty old brick building in mountain-surrounded downtown Hot Springs that housed a crafts mall; she paid her supplies fee to the teacher and looked around the huge, almost empty room. Fans whirled from the high ceiling and windows let in plenty of light. From the looks of the building, Leonie gathered it had once housed a school.
Odors of acrylic paints mixed with chalk dust. Leonie detected the chalk dust and felt right at home. The building smelled exactly the way a classroom should, in her opinion.
Beside her, Butch pressed against her leg and studied the situation. Sure enough, a tiny Yorkshire terrier with a pink bow discovered Butch and growled ferociously from an elderly woman’s lap, then let out a series of hoarse yaps.
“I’m so sorry,” the woman said. “Hush, Gretchen. The big dog isn’t bothering you.”
“A good watch dog never rests,” Leonie intoned, and stretched out a hand for Gretchen to sniff. “I’d better take Butch to the other side of the room or poor Gretchen won’t let you get a bit of painting done.”
Leonie drew Butch’s leash closer and looked for an empty table. The room was by no means crowded, but single women with dogs already took most of the tables meant for two people. The four large dogs present ignored Butch. Three small
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