Wild Thing

by Tawny Weber

  This powerful pull of hot attraction, the desperate need to be with Percy, was overwhelming. But the speculation in his eyes, combined with that sexy smile, was all the warning she needed to remember all the reasons he should be off-limits. But he was right about the loose ends. She’d walked away from him once already, but she hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind. Maybe this time, with a real, official goodbye, her heart—and her body—would accept that it was over.

  Swallowing hard to get past the aching desire to grab him for one more taste to assure herself that she was making the right decision, Andrea pulled away.

  “Fine,” she blurted. She’d hate herself if she turned him down. She was afraid she’d hate herself for saying yes. Since she was going to having a hatefest either way, she might as well enjoy herself. And, more important, she’d get him out of her system in a way that offered closure instead of daily regrets. “You work for me from now on instead of Day. And I’ll pay your price.”

  * * *

  WELL, HELL. LOOK WHAT HAPPENED. He let lust overrule his brain. He deserved a swift kick in the ass. Andrea was the kind of woman who deserved poetry. Moonlight and flowers and sweet words of devotion. Not a skeezy sex-for-hire deal. He’d been about to tell her that he was teasing, that he wasn’t going to turn the dog over to Day until he figured out who was behind the dognapping. But then she’d done the unthinkable.

  She’d accepted his proposition.

  His ego limped into the corner to pout. For himself, she’d sneaked out at daybreak and pretended he didn’t exist. Now she was willing to sleep with him again, but only to save a dog?

  This must be someone’s way of punishing him for previous misdeeds. Because he knew he should tell her he wasn’t going to accept sex for his services. That he’d help her for nothing. But Andrea tasted so delicious. Her lips were pure ambrosia, her body a delight from heaven. So his vocal cords froze on the words.

  Get the dog first, he decided. Then he’d tell her he’d been kidding.

  “Let’s go,” he said, taking her arm to guide her across the street toward the apartment building. As they crossed, he considered and discarded their various options. The simplest way was best. “We’ll hit each floor with the tracking device until it lights up strong enough to indicate the dog is there. When we find the apartment, you stay back. Hide around a corner or something, while I talk to the guy.”

  “You’re just going to, what? Talk him into handing over Medusa?”

  Percy grinned. The skepticism in her tone made it clear that Andrea wasn’t impressed with her choice to hire him.

  “I’m going to case the place. See where the dog is, check outside accessibility. I want to make sure there’s a window or outside door. Once I’ve got a visual, we’ll distract the guy while I sneak in and grab the dog.”

  “Distract the guy? With what? A donut?”

  “Hey, good idea. I was going to have a pizza delivered, but donuts will work, too.”

  He reached for the handle to the apartment complex’s entrance and gave her a questioning look.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Ready,” she agreed, her smile flashing bright. Bright enough to almost hide the edge of nerves he saw lurking in her eyes and in the way her fingers twisted her purse strap. Given that she’d already come out on the wrong end of one encounter with this guy today, Percy couldn’t blame her.

  Giving in to the urgings of the devilish voice in his head, he slid one hand over the curve of her cheek and tilted her head up to meet his lips. Her gasp ended in a fluttering sigh as he paid gentle homage to her mouth. She leaned into him, her body soft and sweet. It was all he could do not to dive deeper, to take the kiss from tender to torrid with a thrust of his tongue. But they were on a mission. So he kept his tongue to himself and slowly pulled away to give her a reassuring smile.

  “It’s gonna be fine,” he promised.

  Andrea gazed into Percy’s eyes and gave a deep sigh. Oh, yeah. Everything was going to be just fine. Despite the nerves still jumping beneath the desire in her belly, she had total faith that he’d rescue Medusa and save her business. And that paying him for his assistance was going to be one of the sweetest, most emotionally expensive bills of her life.

  “Hey, you’re blocking the door.”

  Andrea jumped back, making room for the elderly woman with her standard poodle. The dog pranced, a red bow high on her black curls. The woman stomped past, a purple backpack matching her tightly curled hair.

  Grinning, Andrea met Percy’s laughing eyes. Her heart melted a little, both at their shared humor and at how sweet he looked holding the door open for the lady and her dog.

  “Thanks. Gotta get Duke here to the dog yard before he embarrasses us,” the woman muttered.

  Duke? Percy mouthed.

  Andrea barely stifled her laugh. She watched the prancing and stomping pair make their way across the lobby to an atrium door marked Pets: Tenants Only. Through the heavy glass, she saw a doggie paradise. Grass, play structures, benches for the owners to relax and a huge water fountain.

  “Wow. Most apartment buildings barely tolerate pets,” she commented as she followed Percy into the lobby. “But this place makes them welcome. That’s so great.”

  Just as the elevator door opened, she glanced out the window again. She gasped as her stomach dived into her toes.

  “There she is!”

  Without another word, not even looking to see if Percy was following, Andrea ran across the lobby. Her eyes never left the prancing dog who was playing queen of the bushes, running to and fro with three dogs chasing her.

  “Oh, my…” Andrea almost screamed. Medusa was running free. With male dogs? Now? Just as her fingers closed over the door handle, Percy grabbed her around the waist and swung her away from the door.

  “He’s out there,” he told her, not even winded after his sprint. “Let’s be smart about this, okay? We want the dog, not a fight.”

  “I don’t care about him,” she argued, struggling to free herself from the hard strength of his arms. “I’ve got to get her. She’s running loose. With male dogs. Oh, my God, this is a disaster.”

  “Calm down.”

  It was his tone, more than his command, that finally pierced the panic wrapping around Andrea. With a shuddering sigh, she quit thrashing and sank her body into his, grateful for the support.

  “I don’t want a fight,” she agreed. “But we have to get her. Now. Before one of those dogs gets too friendly.”

  “Shit,” he muttered, sounding embarrassed.

  “We have to,” she insisted. “Now.”

  “I know. I know. Just give me a second to plan it out.”

  Peeling her cheek off his chest, Andrea glanced up at Percy’s face. He assessed the patio with a narrowed gaze, a furrow of concentration wrinkling his brow. Totally willing to let him figure it out, Andrea followed his gaze.

  And saw a big yellow mutt corner Medusa.

  “No,” she yelled. Knowing her career didn’t mean diddly if that dog went through with his naughty intentions, she ripped herself away from Percy and ran across the room. She’d call the cops and let them write a report; hell, she’d take out an ad in the paper admitting a dog in her care had been stolen. Just as long as that male didn’t have his way with her charge.

  She was through the door and across the lawn, when a loud ringing filled the air. Dogs yipped, growled and barked. Dog owners called for their pets, their tones varying from exasperated to scared.

  “This is not a drill,” Percy’s voice yelled out from somewhere near the door. “I repeat, this fire alarm is not a drill. Everyone needs to exit the building now.”

  But instead of leaving, everyone freaked out.

  People ran around like crazy. Dogs ran in opposite directions, either panicked themselves or thinking thi
s was some kind of game. Andrea dodged bodies, both human and canine, as she sprinted toward the corner where she’d last seen Medusa and her would-be suitor.

  Gone.

  Heart racing, her breath coming in gasps, Andrea looked around frantically. Then she saw it. A tiny tuft of white-blond hair, knotted in the green leaves of low bush.

  “Medusa? Here, puppy. Come to Andy, sweetie.”

  Andrea dropped to her knees, bending low to see under the foliage. Relief surged and she gave a long, grateful sigh.

  “There you are, you poor thing. I’m here to take you home. Come to Andy, baby.”

  The dog looked furious. A breed that gave credence to the phrase “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” Chinese Crested dogs were pretty much naked except for the long tufts of fur on the legs, tail and top of the head. Medusa, however, took that rare look to new levels since the hair spiraling off her head and ears was woven into long white dreadlocks, giving her the appearance of an inside-out spotted cat at a Grateful Dead concert.

  “Oh, you poor baby,” she crooned, reaching into the bushes to pick up the tiny shivering mass. As soon as her fingers were within biting distance, though, Medusa snapped, sharp white teeth giving a vicious warning.

  Beady black eyes glared at Andrea with righteous fury.

  “Oh, baby, did he treat you bad?” Andrea murmured, keeping her words low and soothing. Medusa was temperamental at the best of times. And this was clearly not her best. Andrea dug into her purse to find a bag of organic dog treats. She pulled out a few pieces and tossed them onto the lawn. No point in risking her fingers.

  The dog gobbled up the kibble as if she was starving. Andrea kept crooning sweet nothings while Medusa was distracted with her hardened spinach, then slowly, as if approaching a live bomb, she reached for the dog.

  Medusa gave a tiny growl out of the side of her mouth. Then, with a scary look in her dark eyes, she lifted her head so her wild locks slid to one side, and sniffed at Andrea’s fingers.

  Her heart pounding so loud she thought her eardrums would explode, Andrea held her breath. Even the friendliest dogs were unpredictable in stressful circumstances. And Medusa wasn’t even close to friendly. Cringing and ready to yank her hand back at the first sight of tiny teeth, she waited. Medusa gave another low growl. Then, after a long, humanlike look of suspicion, she stretched out her neck and swiped her tongue over Andrea’s knuckles.

  “Good baby. Good Medusa,” Andrea sang as she scooped one hand under the dog’s warm belly, pulling her tight to her own chest. “That’s my girl. You poor thing. Did the mean man scare you?”

  Finally recognizing her rescuer, the dog started a licking marathon all over Andrea’s face. Struggling to get to her feet with a handful of gratefully wriggling and licking canine gratitude, Andrea held Medusa tight and stood up. Looking around, she could see Percy guarding the exit through the throng of people crowded around the door.

  Realizing she’d dropped her purse in her rush to get the dog, she bent over to grab it.

  Before she could, she saw the goon through the clearing crowd. Crap. She’d been so worried about Medusa, she’d forgotten to worry about him.

  Then he saw her.

  Fury tightened his already angry face. Looking like a bull about to charge, he growled.

  Run! She had to get the dog and get out of here.

  She ran. Like the hounds of hell were after her, she moved the fastest she had ever moved in her life. The grass was slippery under her feet as she sped across it.

  As soon as she cleared the exit, Percy slammed the door shut and locked it with a loud click. She had Medusa in the lobby. On the other side of the glass, a large, furious man looking like he wanted to kill them stood, shaking the handle and pounding on the door.

  “C’mon,” Percy said, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the exit. “That won’t hold him for long.”

  “Wait,” she cried, trying to pull away and go back. “My purse is still back there. I’ve got to get it.”

  “Your purse, or the dog,” Percy said, tugging at their entwined fingers to get her to hurry. “Which one do you want more?”

  Andrea glanced back at the door. The guy’s fist had shattered the glass so it looked like a spiderweb. He hit it again, making the wood frame crack. The few people left in the lobby stared in shock, then ran for the exit.

  “Let’s go,” she decided, holding the dog tight under her arm like a shaking, growling football. “Let’s go, fast.”

  CHAPTER 6

  KEEPING AN EYE OUT behind them as they ran from the apartment building, Percy held tight to Andrea’s hand, pulling her across the street.

  Damn. That guy was huge. He’d busted the door frame in two hits. Despite his current sprint, Percy wasn’t usually one to run from a fight. But protecting Andrea while fighting the same goon who’d tied her up and scared her…? As much as he wanted to introduce his fist to that guy’s huge face, he knew Andrea’s priority was getting the dog safely away.

  As he yanked open the Vette’s passenger door for her to dive into the car, he gave the apartment building a regretful look. He’d deal with the guy before this was over.

  He’d make sure of it.

  With that promise, he sprinted around the hood. As he yanked open his door, he saw the goon with fists the size of Texas come lumbering out of the apartment building. And looking seriously pissed. “Oops.”

  Jamming his key into the ignition, he peeled out as the guy shook his fist threateningly. Percy couldn’t resist offering him a one-fingered wave of triumph as he turned the corner.

  “Well, there ya go,” he said, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to try to shake off some of the adrenaline still zinging through his body. “Got the dog, saved the day. Chalk another one up to success.”

  He glanced over to share a grin and see how Andrea had held up in the rush out of there. Before he could read her face, though, the dog on her lap caught his gaze. Holy shit. He did a double take. It was just as ugly at second glance.

  “What the hell is that?”

  Andrea cuddled the growling dog closer, rubbing her cheek over its hairless little face. The tiny body trembled against her. He could tell it was trembling because it was naked. As in, no hair. Just pink-and-black spotted skin.

  Afraid he’d damage his car, Percy pulled over to the side of the road. With his forearm resting on the steering wheel, the loud rumble of the big block engine shaking the car in time with the dog’s shivers, he turned to get a better look.

  “That son of a bitch. What’d he do, shave it? We must’ve interrupted him before he could get the rest of it.” Percy squinted, wondering what the dog had looked like with all its hair. “Maybe he was figuring it’d be a disguise or something. Like a rat.”

  “Medusa is a Chinese Crested,” Andrea said stiffly. “This is what she’s supposed to look like.”

  “Scary ugly?”

  He understood Andrea’s heated glare. But the dog’s? Percy winced, pulling his sunglasses out of the center console to dim the impact. That was a turn-a-guy-to-stone glare coming out of those beady black eyes.

  “Why’s it giving me a dirty look?”

  “You just insulted her. What’d you expect? Puppy love?”

  “It’s not like she can understand.”

  Andrea gave him a dismissive look, then turned her attention to the rat with wings for ears.

  “Poor baby, she’s been through such an ordeal,” she crooned, her fingers rubbing between those bat-like ears until the dog quit its death stare. “You need to say something nice now to make her feel better.”

  “Something nice?” He’d have laughed, but Andrea looked serious. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in talking to dogs. Hey, they were some of the best listeners he’d ever met. But this thing?

 
He gave the animal—he wasn’t calling it a dog until someone showed him proof that it was one—another questioning glace. Long silky hair sprouted all around those big ole ears and off its legs like it was wearing ugly boots. It had a tail, and there was hair on that. But the top of its head looked like a mop. Instead of silky tufts, the long white hair was all bunched together in dreadlocks. Vintage Madonna meets Bob Marley.

  “Well? You have to at least say hello to her. She’s scared and needs to know you’re not a threat,” Andrea challenged. He switched his gaze to her, liking the look of her face a lot better. Then he noted the tightness around her eyes and the white tinge to her lips. She was scared. Some of that trembling was her fingers, he realized.

  Damn. With a grimace, he gave the dog another look.

  “Hi, Medusa,” he said. Then, because he prided himself on being a man who knew how to charm the ladies, present company excepted, and because he hoped it’d score points with the now-glaring Andrea, he reached over to rub one finger between the dog’s ears. “Aren’t you a special girl. And look at that hair. I’ll bet you wow them on your date Monday.”

  That was it. The best he could come up with.

  The dog gave a low growl, then lifted its narrow nose to sniff at his hand. Andrea’s quick inhalation, and the scary look in the dog’s eyes, was all the warning he needed to know that this wasn’t a good sign. But he’d run once already today. He wasn’t letting a mouthful of tiny teeth scare him.

  Even if they were accompanied by a glare that could turn a man to stone.

  So, teeth gritted against the probable onslaught, Percy turned the quick rub between the dog’s ears into a full-fledged pet. He even managed to hide his grimace when his fingers slipped from hair to naked skin.